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Mommy
I didn’t know JJ or his mother, but my throat clenched as love surged through these words, and I knew I needed to return these letters to their rightful owner. Folding the letter back to how I’d found it, I kicked myself when I realized a dot of my blood had smudged the paper.
Nonetheless, I dashed to the counter and looked over the information from the estate sale. There weren’t any names listed with J as a contact, only some management firm.
My foot tapped with impatience as I logged onto the computer and attempted to look up the management group. Still, no man with a J on any part of the website or contacts. If I couldn’t find him, my sister could. I sent her a quick text to ensure she was still at Milo’s, and she sent a thumbs-up emoji back.
I let out a little growl, quickly gathered the letters, and put them back in the vase before moving the box into the back room so everything didn’t accidentally get sold in the morning.
After closing up the rest of the antique store, flipping off the remaining lights, and setting the alarm, I made my way to the car I’d borrowed from my parents until I made my way to Seattle to find a new one.
Another round of thunder clapped not far from the shoreline as I turned onto the main road toward Milo’s. Just as I entered the parking lot, the rain started dumping, and a shiver found its way through my spine even though it wasn’t a degree below seventy. I scurried into the pub overlooking crashing waves against the dock with boats bobbing to prove the weathermen wrong once more. This wasn’t a little storm.
“Ah, if it isn’t the elusive Evans sister,” the bartender called the moment I entered the pub.
I frowned as the entire place turned and raised whatever they were drinking in my direction. My cheeks flamed red, and I spotted my sister in a far booth with a book.
Not quite what I pictured Emily to be doing whenever she announced her Friday night plans at Milo’s.
I hid a little snicker and made my way over to Emily, who was one of the few who didn’t hear the bartender’s greeting.
“A little absorbed in the story?” I teased as Emily’s gaze flashed to mine.
“What are you doing here?”
“I told you I was coming.”
“No, you asked if I was still here.”
I shrugged and slid into the booth with my little bundle as she closed her book. “And all this time, I thought you were dancing on the bar and whooping it up with the bartender with drinks spilling out of your mugs.”
“You watch too much reality television.” Emily chuckled and slid her book away as the server brought over a basket of garlic cheese fries sprinkled with Parmesan.
“Want some?” she asked, pushing the basket toward me.
Every single thing I thought I knew about my sister got blown to smithereens, and I think she realized it. Emily always had a way of making us think she was a party animal, living it up on her Friday nights while the rest of us stayed home.
I pursed my lips together before heaving a sigh. “So, I need your help.”
Her brows pulled up. “With what… and why are you bleeding? You’ve only been alone for less than an hour.”
I chuckled. “It was a box cutter this time.”
Emily rolled her eyes with a grin. “Of course it was. I feel like there should be a list of tools you’re not allowed to use unless you have someone with you.”
“Hardee-har-har.”
“I’m totally not kidding.”
I set the folded bundle of letters with the twine on top of the table and let out a deep breath. “Well, I found a vase with letters inside and something else I can’t actually fish out of the ceramic without damaging it.
“Okay…What does that have to do with me?”
“Well, I read the first letter, and I know whomever they’re meant for needs to read them and keep them. The problem is that I only know that I’m looking for a man with a name that starts with J, and the company who managed the estate sale has no information with that name.”
“Your plan is to hunt down some random guy to hand him a pack of letters stuck in a vase?”
I nodded and stole a fry. “Yup, and I need your help. You’re a master sleuth when it comes to tracking people down.”
