Page 19 of The Secret of Emerald Cottage

Chapter Eleven

Brec studied Sloan Kennedy with a critical eye while the deputy sheriff calmly asked Aunt Lilly a host of questions, and couldn’t help but wonder why he felt so ambivalent toward the man. Kind of like he felt about Chase Griffin, he supposed, but then he already knew why that was. Deep down he’d always resented how Griffin had been one of his aunt’s favorites as a boy, now grown into a loyal man who’d become her “self-appointed caretaker,” as Molly so succinctly put it.

The son she never had.

Brec bit back a scowl as he upended his iced tea, more frustrated with himself than with Griffin or the calm and mild-mannered sheriff who only wanted to help. You’re a moron, McGill, you know that? Unfaithful. Uncaring. Ungrateful.

And jealous?

The thought took him by surprise because yes, he was jealous of Griffin, a fact he’d reluctantly reconciled long ago. But Kennedy had absolutely nothing for Brec to be jealous of. After all, it wasn’t like he was close to Aunt Lilly. For blimey’s sake, they just met today.

Slowly savoring his dessert, he assessed the deputy through narrow eyes, noting the gentleness of his manner with his aunt. He seemed a decent enough bloke, he supposed. Honest. Hardworking. Handsome.

The truth suddenly hit him right between the eyes as Kennedy responded to one of Molly’s questions with a smile that was definitely not cool, calm, and professional.

More like really, really warm.

A splinter of jealousy prickled, annoying Brec even more because the last thing he needed—or Molly for that matter—was a repentant player like himself hitting on her.

“Don’t you think so, Brec?”

Brec jolted, Molly’s question jerking him from his reverie. He sat up in his chair with a blast of heat at the back of his neck. “Sorry. Come again?”

The faintest shadow of a smile played on her lips as she repeated her question. “Detective Kennedy asked about any valuables that might provoke a break-in, and other than the typical appliances or computers a thief might take—which they didn’t, thank God—Miss Lilly mentioned your Uncle Hal’s doubloon collection.”

Brec blinked, the word “doubloon” suddenly conjuring up wonderful memories of summers past, playing pirates with various boys who’d vacationed at Lake Loon. A pinprick of warmth seeped into his heart, prompting a trace of a smile as he thought of his twelfth birthday, when Uncle Hal had secretly gifted him with one of his treasured Spanish coins. “Now, mind you, this is the real thing, Brec, not a toy,” he’d whispered, glancing around as if fearing Brec’s friends might hear from the deck outside, where they enjoyed ice pops from Aunt Lilly. “A genuine piece of eight, so, keep it in a safe place, you hear?”

Yes, Brec had heard. Loud and clear, he’d heard. His great uncle telling him that not only was he honoring him with a piece of history, but a piece of his heart as well, from his beloved collection. That very piece of eight now hung in a frame in his apartment in Dublin, a cherished memento.

“Now, don’t tell me you don’t remember,” Miss Lilly said with a spoonful of trifle, rolling it around in her mouth like a lollipop. “Goodness, Li’l Pelé, you and Harold used to pore over that collection like it was pure gold.”

“Well, a lot of it was, Aunt Lilly.” Smiling, Brec set his empty bowl aside with a shake of his head. “Not that you cared, as I recall. Uncle Hal said you didn’t give a hoot about his collection, which is why he liked talking to me about it.”

“Still don’t,” she said with her nose in the air, but Brec didn’t miss the sudden glaze of affection in her eyes. “Sweet mother of pearl, that man about bored me to tears talking about escudos, doubloons, and pieces of eight till all I wanted to do was give him a piece of my mind. But sweet glory, how he loved those silly coins.”

“Was the collection valuable?” Kennedy glanced from Brec to Miss Lilly, indents creasing the bridge of his nose.

Miss Lilly waved a dismissive hand. “Harold said it was, especially that confounded Brasher Doubloon he was always goin’ on about, calling it our insurance policy. But I’d always tell him the only insurance policy we needed was the good Lord.”

“Uncle Hal told me once it was worth a pirate’s ransom,” Brec interjected, thinking that a rare coin collection might be a temptation to anyone who knew about it. If it was here, which Brec doubted. Who would keep something that valuable in their house? “Have you ever had it appraised, Aunt Lilly?”

“Shoot no!” A tiny shudder shivered her small frame as she buffed her arms, her expression suddenly sobering along with her tone. “Hard enough to walk into Harold’s office once a month to file and clean”—her lips compressed as her gaze lapsed into a hollow stare over the inky waters of Lake Loon— “much less dig around into his drawers and safe spots.”

“Wait.” Brec sat straight up. “You’re not saying the coin collection is here, in the cottage, are you? I mean you keep it in a safe-deposit box at the bank, don’t you Aunt Lilly?”

She turned then to look at him, her fatigue suddenly evident in the mournful slope of eyes laden with wrinkles. “Yes, Brec, I’m sayin’ it’s here, in Harold’s office, because I couldn’t bear to part with it any more than I can bear to look at it now.”

Brec’s frantic gaze darted to Sloan, remembering the deputy’s reluctance when Molly and he had begged him to keep certain information from Miss Lilly. To spare her the angst of learning Uncle Hal’s office had been turned upside down even more than the rest of the house. Violated beyond recognition, as if that room more than any other, held the key to their search.

Credenza, desk, chairs, all overturned, drawers flung about and broken, pictures taken off the walls and utterly destroyed, spewing broken glass and frames everywhere. It would break her heart to know—to see—what evil had been done to the only remnants she had left of the man that she loved. They both knew her heart would be decimated, just like the shrine she cherished, for a soulmate waiting so patiently on the other side of eternity.

Reading the regret in the deputy’s eyes, Brec gave a short nod, painfully aware they had no choice but to tell Aunt Lilly the truth. He met Molly’s worried look with a somber one of his own before turning to his aunt. “Aunt Lilly, we didn’t want to tell you this before, but Uncle Hal’s office was ransacked as well as the downstairs. That said, we need to know if the coin collection was stolen, so can you tell us where it’s hidden?”

She blinked several times before shuffling to get up.

“No, ma’am.” Brec rose to bend a knee before her, hand gently kneading her fragile shoulder. “You’re exhausted, Aunt Lilly, and in no frame of mind to face that right now, so please—let me carry you up so Molly can help you get ready for bed. Then Molly and I will straighten things up first, and we can all evaluate the office in the morning after you’ve had a decent night’s sleep, all right?”

Eyes glossy with pain, she finally offered a weary nod.