Hearts Divided (Cedar Cove #5.5)(46)

Chloe mulled over the style and the content of the essay tucked into her purse. However, she was no closer to deciphering the puzzle when she reached her grandmother’s home.

Winifred answered her knock almost immediately and smiled with pleasure. “Why, Chloe, come in, dear.”

“Hi, Gran.” Chloe stepped past Winifred and into the entryway, turning to look at her grandmother. “Sorry to come by so late, but I need your help.”

“Of course.” Winifred’s gaze sharpened and frown lines appeared between her brows. “Join me in the kitchen. I was going to have a glass of iced tea. You can tell me all about it.”

Chloe followed Winifred down the hall to the big kitchen, sitting down in a chair at the oak table by the big window. The table already held a crystal pitcher, a Wedgewood plate with several cookies and a tall glass. Winifred took another glass and spoon from the cupboard and sat across from her.

“I’ll pour,” Winifred said as she picked up the pitcher. “While you tell me what has you so worried.”

“It’s this essay, Gran.” Chloe removed the three-page document from her purse and laid it on the table between them. “Whoever wrote it clearly has issues with the American military, particularly the Marines, but there are also weird words, gibberish really, spaced throughout. I can’t make any sense of it.”

“Whoever wrote it? What do you mean? Isn’t the writer one of your students?” She finished pouring the iced tea, set a glass in front of Chloe and stirred sugar into her own.

“That’s another odd thing.” Chloe slid the stapled papers closer to her grandmother and pointed at the top sheet. “The writer didn’t sign his or her name. It’s anonymous.”

Winifred raised her eyebrows, bending forward to read the cover page. “Well, that certainly is odd. How does he expect to get credit for his work?”

“I don’t think he does. I don’t think the writer is one of my students.”

“Then why would he turn in the essay?” Winifred asked slowly, setting aside glass and spoon to pick up the papers.

“I don’t know,” Chloe said. “I’m sure this essay was with a group of several others that students dropped through the slot in my office door. There’s something about the gibberish that nags at me. I feel as if I should know what it means, but I don’t. It’s just letters strung together. I’m hoping you can give me some insight.”

Winifred began to read. Chloe sipped her tea, nibbled on a Hob Nob cookie and waited impatiently for her to finish.

Finally, Winifred reached the last page and looked up.

“Well? What do you think it means?”

“First, I agree with you. There’s something familiar about the letters in parentheses,” Winifred said thoughtfully. “I don’t think they’re merely random.” She paused, a faraway look in her eyes, her fingers drumming on the table. “Of course.” She pushed back her chair.

“What?”

“I’ll be right back.” Winifred hurried out of the room. Chloe heard her footsteps as she moved quickly down the hall, and guessed she’d gone to her office off the living room. Moments later Winifred reappeared, carrying a thick hardcover book, a pad of paper and a pen.

She sat down, handed Chloe the pen and notepaper, and opened the book to the index.

Chloe turned her head, twisting to read the title of the book. Codebreakers Through History. She straightened in her chair. “Gran, do you see a pattern? Do you think the letters are a code?”

“They might be….”

Chloe pulled the essay closer and looked at the first grouping of letters enclosed in parentheses. “Yildoc,” she read out loud. “You think that’s a word?”

“It might be. Ah, here it is.” Winifred leafed through the book, stopping to scan a page before turning to the next. “Yes,” she said with satisfaction. “I need you to spell out the letters for me, then write down what I tell you, Chloe.”

“Okay. The first one is Y-I-L-D-O-C.”

Winifred ran her fingertip down a list. “J.”

“The letter J?” Chloe asked.

“Yes. What’s the next set of letters within parentheses?”

“T-S-E-N-I-L.”

“That’s an A.” She waited for Chloe to jot down the letter and find the next parenthetical set of letters.

“J-A-D-H-O-L-N-I.”

“That’s a K. Next.”

“A-H-N-A-H.”

“That’s an E. Next.”

Chloe stared at the letters she’d written down. “Gran.”

Winifred looked up. “Yes?”

“We just spelled Jake.”

Winifred nodded abruptly. “Then I was right. Whoever wrote the essay used the World War II code based on the Navajo language.”

“So you’re saying a Navajo wrote the essay?”

“Not necessarily. The code was never broken during the war and was kept top secret. It wasn’t officially recognized by the Pentagon until 1992. But since then, there have been articles written about the Navajo codebreakers and how the code worked. I believe Hollywood even made a movie called Windtalkers about the use of the Navajo code during the war in the Pacific. Public knowledge about the subject has definitely increased over the past several years.”