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“She made the Coroa de Lágrimas and swore revenge on the House of Sousa. Chip picked up where she left off,” CJ adds.
“But I don’t think he intends for us to take revenge,” I say.
CJ shrugs in a way that makes me think he knows something we don’t. Because we teased or withdrew from him for insisting our parents weren’t entirely who we thought and aren’t dead, maybe he has a secret. He was closest to Chip, and yet our grandfather left me the diary. I add questions to my questions.
“But we will recover the crown if we can,” Magnus says.
“So, do you believe all this?” Harley whispers.
“It’s like we’re living our very own Indiana Jones movie.” The corner of my lip lifts with a smile. “With ice cream and a baby.”
“Thankfully, he’s sleeping through this. But I like our version better.”
“Me too, sweetheart,” I say in my best Indiana Jones imitation, then kiss her on the forehead.
Everyone has broken into side conversations as if we all need a break from the transcription of the diary. Isla curls up on the couch next to Royal and falls asleep. Magnus balances his elbows on his knees, deep in thought, while Lally and Harley clean up the snacks.
CJ gazes out the window into the dark.
I flip through the journal, wondering what we’ll learn next. If there even really is a lost crown of tears. There’s still more to go in Márcia’s portion of the journal and then Chip’s section. But I can’t help but feel we’re still missing something crucial.
Not the last piece of the map and not the third gem for the crown, or even the crown itself. It has something to do with the messages in the will—why a pen with a plume? A pillow for Magnus, and what on earth is the Salty Skeleton?
Harley
CHAPTER 15
With Luke happily with his uncles and cousins, I hurry to the Sip & Scoop.
By day, we’ve been doing demolition—though Hurricane Howie did most of that for us.
By night, we’ve been doing the painstaking work of translating the journal. We’re about three-quarters of the way through and have learned a few crucial things: family can be deceptive, pirates are merciless, and the crown of tears was made of gold and had three points, one with a pearl, the second with a diamond, and the third is a piece of red coral.
That’s the missing one. That’s what we’re looking for. But that’s not what I found this morning when I was going through the kitchen cabinet at Uncle Eddie’s.
In place of a front door, the Sip & Scoop has a gaping hole in the entry.
Before I can ask what happened, Ryan says, “I was lugging some of this material out to the dumpster, and the door just gave up and fell right off the hinges.”
“That’s not supposed to happen.”
“I think the framesplit.”
“If this place weren’t in such rough shape, I would accuse you of kicking it out of your way, but I’m glad it didn’t fall on you.”
“It’s almost like this place wants to fall to pieces.”
“Sorry, ip & oop. That’s not happening. You’re not giving up,” I call, pretending to be talking to the building. “We’re going to fix you up, start serving ice cream, and you’re going to like it.”
Ryan chuckles.
I bounce on my toes. “Not only are we going to serve ice cream, but I found it. I solved the problem.” I root through my bag to find the card.
“Which problem? We have about a dozen of those.”
I present the butter-stained, smeared, and well-loved recipe card. “I found the recipe for Aunt Martina’s coconut crunch. At first, I thought it might save the Plundering Pelican, but my sisters are working hard to do that. Plus, most people don’t order cookies for dessert at restaurants.”
“I’m kind of banking on them not being successful.” Ryan arches an eyebrow toward the restaurant. “They’re our competition.”
