Ink and Shadows(Secret, Book, & Scone Society #4)(73)

“We can’t remove anything from the apartment. Not yet. As far as repotting plants? We can make that happen, but it’s not a top priority.” McCabe gave her a worried look. “Are you okay?”

“It’s just hard to see this,” she said.

McCabe touched Nora’s shoulder in sympathy before leading her to the grow room.

Unlike the rest of the apartment, the indoor garden smelled like a farmer’s market stall on a summer’s day. As Nora moved between two rows of plants, she detected unique pockets of scent. The oregano, mint, and rosemary were the strongest, but all the scents were undercut by the loamy perfume of fertilized soil.

The mushroom table and coordinating stools Celeste had made for Bren were wedged into a corner near the window. In the photograph, the set had looked like a gray blob. Now it looked like a children’s theater prop or inspiration for a storybook scene. Nora could picture forest animals having tea at the mushroom cap table. A fox could serve the cakes while a raccoon filled the cups. They’d both wear daisy crowns, just as Bren and Celeste had done.

McCabe squatted down next to the table to examine the ribbing under the cap. “Reminds me of the mushrooms that pop up in my yard after a hard rain. I’ve always thought there was something magical about that—the way they seem to grow out of raindrops and dew.”

“Your grass was full of fairy umbrellas,” said Nora.

After admiring Celeste’s workmanship for another minute, McCabe stood up and moved the two stools to the opposite corner. He then eased the table away from the wall. “I really hope we don’t have to break this thing apart.”

“Me too.” Nora grabbed hold of the tabletop and helped McCabe lower it to the floor.

Though there was plenty of light in the room, McCabe switched on his flashlight and ran the beam over the circular base. The dolphin-gray concrete looked like the rest of the table.

Nora heard the sheriff’s grunt of disappointment and felt a stab of doubt. Celeste’s final words had been fragmented. They’d been a train with missing cars, and Nora didn’t know if she’d chosen the right cars to couple in their place.

“There’s a toolbox in the coat closet. I’ll grab it.”

After McCabe left the room, Nora ran her palm over the concrete. It had the rough texture of sandpaper. Except at the very center. That surface was smoother than the rest.

When McCabe returned, Nora asked him to hammer the tip of a screwdriver into the center of the circular base.

“If Celeste put the book inside from the bottom and resealed it with cement, we should be able to get it out without ruining the whole table.”

McCabe pressed the screwdriver to the concrete and glanced at Nora. “Fingers crossed?”

She showed him her crossed fingers, and he struck the screwdriver’s handle with the hammer. An indentation appeared, along with a smattering of dust. His second strike was more forceful. A zigzag of cracks radiated from the indentation. These caved inward with the third blow.

A chunk of concrete hit the floor. Setting the tools aside, McCabe stuck his fingers into the opening and broke off another piece. Nora joined in, and in a matter of minutes, the hole was big enough to accommodate a person’s hand.

McCabe passed Nora a pair of gloves. After donning his with practiced ease, McCabe held his flashlight up to the hole and bent over to peer inside.

When he sat back on his heels, he was smiling. His eyes sparkled and his face was bright with hope. “I’ll make the hole bigger. You need to keep your gloves clean.”

Nora’s heart thumped so loudly that she was sure McCabe would hear it. But he was tearing at the edges of the hole, widening it with an urgency he hadn’t displayed until now.

Finally, he lowered his hands and said, “Okay.”

Nora reached inside the table base. Her outstretched fingers met with a hard edge covered in plastic. She groped around until she could close her hand around the book. Then she pulled it from its hiding place and into the light.

Because it was zipped inside a dust-coated plastic freezer bag, Nora couldn’t see what the book looked like. But that was all right. For the moment, it was enough to feel its weight in her hands. To know that it was safe.

Nora would keep her promise to Celeste. Juliana’s book would not be stolen or torn apart. Its contents would not be misrepresented. It was not a work of the devil. Nor was it the spell book of a wicked witch. It was a family heirloom—a piece of history cherished by generations of women.

“Where do you want to examine it?” McCabe asked.

Holding the book close, Nora said, “Downstairs. On one of the shop’s glass counters. The lighting is much better there.”

A few minutes later, McCabe unlocked Soothe’s back door and held it open for Nora. “I have to make a quick call. Go in and start without me. I have a feeling you’ll forget about the rest of the world after you unwrap that book, anyway.”

Nora could have thrown her arm around him for being so thoughtful, but she was holding the book, so she settled for a quick smile.

McCabe was right. The moment Nora unzipped that dusty bag, the rest of the world fell away. That bundle of leather, paper, and ink became her entire universe. Breathlessly, she prepared to make first contact.





Chapter 17


A sensitive plant in a garden grew,

And the young winds fed it with silver dew,