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I stepped forward. “More like codenames for people. I’ve figured out a few, but for the most part it seems to be some sort of shorthand to protect the not-so-innocent.”
Jack leaned his hip against the counter. “Are we in an episode of Revenge?”
I laughed. “Good analogy. I don’t think there’s that much murder involved, but we’re starting to wonder.”
Blake covered the diary with his palm. “It seems that people really want this diary.”
Unless there was something else even worse hidden in the house. But I didn’t want to think about that possibility. Imagining these men—or women or whoever the hell they were—digging around for my grandmother’s old secrets was awful enough.
The word why had become a continuous chant in my head.
Jack glanced down at me. “Where’d you find it, Nancy Drew?”
“I designed the stained glass over the back door. Sometime in the last five years, my grandmother replaced one of the panes with two pieces of Blake’s glass. She hid the diary in between the two panes.”
“Wow. Really?” Jack picked up the diary. “I guess it’s small enough.”
“They’ve been breaking into the beach house and systematically breaking all the decorative glass, so I went through the house for the last few weeks, double-checking every single corner.” I shrugged. “I found a book-sized pane that slid up. She must have been using it for years.”
“Well, damn. What’d the old biddy have on people? Blackmail? Sex, drugs, and rock and roll?”
“Be serious for half a second in your life, would you?”
Jack’s face sobered. “Look, son. I may make jokes, but I’m fucking serious about my friends. I’m just trying for a little levity in this crazy-ass story.” He shook his head. “You should have come to me weeks ago about this.”
Blake blew out a breath. “I thought you might be involved.”
Jack’s brows snapped down. “What? How could you—”
I stepped between them. “Look, Jack. You didn’t tell him you were watching me, for one thing.” I smacked his arm. “Eww, by the way.”
Jack bunched up his shoulders. “I wasn’t spying on you in your underwear, Gracie. Just making sure all you were doing was using the house as a studio.”
“Yeah, well, both of you were keeping secrets.” I waved a hand in the direction of my lover. “When he found one of your cufflinks at the house after the break-in, he went all Blake.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Blake asked.
I could tell he wasn’t pleased I was sharing what he’d told me about Jack in a weakened moment of total honesty. He would probably start glowering again anytime now.
Jack shook his head. “You have a very suspicious mind, Mr. Carson.”
“I get paid to have a suspicious mind,” he said with a frown.
“Now that we’re all on the same page, can you please help us figure out the memory stick?”
Jack flipped open his bag and pulled out a laptop. “It’s a secure set-up so no one should be able to see what’s on this except us. Does that satisfy your crazy side?”
Blake nodded. “Yes.”
I shook my head. He didn’t even deny it anymore.
Jack plugged in the memory stick. His fingers flew over the keys, then his brow furrowed. “Damn, grandma.”
I moved beside him and peeked at the screen. “What?”
“It’s password encrypted. Like hacker-protected.” He pushed the laptop back. “I’m good, but this is way above my paygrade.”
“Your paygrade is damn good,” Blake muttered.
