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Following the local tradition
To ensure no spoils.
She pointed to the first line. “I thought the promise of youth might refer to a fountain. You know—the fountain of youth?”
He nodded in agreement and decided to pick up the next part. “The lesser known of three royals. So, we know that there is a Buckingham Fountain on Columbus Drive, and the Crown Fountain on East Randolph Street. So, I figured the lesser-known royal fountain might be ours. Victoria Fountain in our own Beechwood Park.”
“I thought so, too,” said Piper in a way that just seemed slightly odd.
He sat back. “So, we both agree on this one.”
“We do.”
“Does anything about this feel strange to you?”
He could see the hesitation on her face. The waitress appeared back, setting down the tea, coffee, and two slices of cake.
Dawson looked down at his piece. The slice of angel food cake was larger than average, with a fresh cream and apricot jam filling. “I haven’t eaten something like this in years,” he said with regret.
Piper picked up a fork without delay. “It’s the calories. But I’ve decided that today is a write-off and no calories count.”
“Well, that’s an interesting point of view,” he said with amusement. “And one that I’m happy to embrace.” He took a forkful of cake and delighted in the explosion of taste. “Wow, that is good.”
Piper licked her lips and took her own bite, a wide smile spreading across her face. “Yes, it is. I’m not sure why angel food cake fell out of favor with me, but it’s definitely made its way back in.”
She started to pour her tea and he picked at his cake as he watched her. Her hair was down around her shoulders, and she was wearing a light blue shirt that brought out the color of her eyes.
“Is everything okay?” He could sense the weirdness in the air around them, and he didn’t like it. He hadn’t felt like this around Piper since that first day. “You might not have realized this”—he hoped he said with humor—“but I’m a straight-talking guy and I like things to be up front.”
She stopped pouring her tea and peered into her cup at the color, frowning before giving the water in the pot another stir. “I went to see Mr. McNally today.”
Dawson’s coffee froze halfway to his lips. “You did?”
“I did. Did you know we weren’t supposed to do that?”
“Do what?”
“Go and see any of the attorneys on our own.”
He frowned, trying to figure it out. “I had no idea. Is this in case they spill some secret to us?”
“I think it is—even though neither of us would ever ask. And I didn’t,” she added quickly. “I didn’t ask him anything about the clues.”
“Not even how many there are?”
She groaned. “Not even that.”
“So what did you ask?”
“I wanted to know why they are messing with our lives. It’s all very well to ask us to solve clues to prove we’re worthy of the greenhouses and land we’ve been left. But the ball? The costumes they sent to us? It just seemed intrusive.”
Dawson finally took a sip of his coffee before setting it down. “I hadn’t really thought about it much, but I guess it could be looked at that way.”
“And anyhow—what’s the reason behind this? The outcome that they are looking for? I wanted an answer.”
“And did you get it?”
Her fork was poised above her cake again. “In a way…” Her words tailed off and she looked wistful.
