Twilight at Blueberry Barrens (Sunset Cove #3)(72)

“I have a small one in my purse.”

“You carry the entire contents of the Free World in your purse.”

Smiling, she went to dig out a pen and pad. The way his gaze lingered on her when she stepped back into the kitchen warmed her all the way through. “Here you go.”

He took the pad and flipped it open. She laid the pen beside it, then pulled up a chair beside him. “Is there a trick to it?”

“We’re going to look for the shortest words first. They are likely to be things like a or I and we’ll look for patterns. The most common letter used in English is the letter e, followed by t and a, so that will help us too. And we’ll look for double symbols that might represent things like a double l or other common double letters.”

“That sounds easier than I expected.” She looked down at the leather cover. “It looks well used.”

“I noticed that too. Let’s see if there are any engraved names on the back.” He flipped it over and ran his hand over the worn surface. “Nothing.” He turned it over and opened the front cover. “AB. Mean anything to you?”

She tried to think of anyone she knew with those initials. “Nope.” She leaned past him to turn a page. The last thing she wanted right now was to look at this thing now that it appeared to be nothing more than trash. She flipped the first page and began to read through it. “It’s all numbers.”

He straightened. “There’s a common code using numbers and letters that the Greeks devised. It’s called a square cipher.” He drew a grid consisting of five columns and five rows, then filled the reference along the top and bottom with the numbers one through five. In the boxes he jotted down the letters of the English alphabet starting with the letter a in the first box. “Each letter is represented by two numbers—the column on the left is the first number, and the row across the top is the second. So the letter s is represented by the numbers 43. The i and j are merged into one, and q is omitted as well.”

“You think it’s something that simple?”

“I suspect the owner of the notebook tried to muddy up the meaning enough that anyone who happened to glance in it would think it was gibberish. Let’s see if this works.” He grabbed the pen and began translating the words.

Her eyes widened as he wrote down words like target and shot. “We should call the sheriff. I think this belongs to the murderer.”

Drake’s jaw was like granite as he wordlessly flipped to the back and jotted down the translation of the final entry.

Location: Folly Shoals, Maine

Target: Heath and Melissa Emerson

Outcome: Death



Her vision blurred, and she fought tears. She turned to take Drake’s hand. His eyes were wide and shocked in his white face. His hand trembled.

“I’m so sorry, Drake.” She clung to his hand, trying to convey the depth of her sympathy.

His breath came in short gasps, and he pulled her onto his lap, then clung to her like a buoy in rough waters. He buried his face in her neck, and she let him.

He finally stiffened. “This proves Heath didn’t do it.”

*

The morning sun had begun to lighten the horizon when he parked in his hiding spot and walked the last quarter mile to Kate’s house. The air smelled of dew, and he zipped up his jacket against the early morning breeze. He liked this time of day when no one was out and he could train his camera on her windows without fear of being seen. He found his spot and settled in, then focused on Kate’s living room window. Any second now he’d be able to see her beautiful face and form.

There, the light came on and she drew open the drapes. He smiled. The white shorts she wore showed off her long legs, and the light-blue top hugged her figure. He liked it when she wore her hair up like today. He knew she’d done it just for him too. He could imagine pressing his lips against the curving sweep of her neck and up to her jawline. He quickly snapped pictures of her as she moved around the room fluffing pillows.

She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. But she belonged to him. He didn’t like her job being in such close proximity to a single guy. And those kids took up way too much of her attention. He’d be glad when Newham left town and went back to his own life. Just a few more weeks now, and he’d have Kate to himself. Maybe it would be time to knock on her door once he knew no one was around.

She rinsed her coffee cup, then exited the front door with her dog, pausing to drop an envelope onto the mat on the porch. Frowning, he focused on the white square. He couldn’t quite make out who it was addressed to, but he intended to find out. He shrank back into the bushes as she walked along the road to the cottage. She passed near enough that he caught a whiff of the vanilla scent she wore.

Once she was inside the cottage, he stared across at the front door. The windows of the cottage were positioned so no one could see her house from inside, but there was always the chance someone might come out. He decided to risk it.

He dashed across the road and up the steps, then grabbed the envelope and ran around the side of the house just in case. Panting, he peered around the edge of the house. No movement at the cottage down the road. Perfect.

He flipped over the envelope. His breath hitched in his chest when he read the block words on the front. TO MY GIFT GIVER. Could she actually have responded to his gifts? His hands shook as he ripped the flap off and pulled out the paper inside. Handwritten. She’d sent him a handwritten note.