Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 93002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
I started back down the hall, wondering if I needed to grab anything from my room before heading into work. I heard my name again, this time in a low voice, from the opposite direction as last time.
Ford, I realized, turning around and heading for the billiards room.
“I overheard your conversation,” he said bluntly. Not a surprise. Griffen’s office door had been open, and we hadn’t been whispering. “Will you tell me what the clue was?”
I stared at Ford for a long moment. Could I trust him? I knew he hadn’t killed our father. He was far too clever to have left such clumsy evidence behind—stashing the gun in his own closet and leaving the shoes that matched the footprints at the end of his bed. No, if Ford had killed Prentice, he wouldn’t have been caught. But that didn’t mean I could trust him.
On the other hand, even if he knew what the clue meant, he didn’t have the code that went with it. Only Forrest had that, and knowing Forrest, it was locked away somewhere safe.
I could use all the help I could get. I repeated the clue. Ford said it aloud slowly, twice, his eyes closed. “I don’t know anything about ciphers or code-breaking,” he said. “Less than nothing, really. But…is there any way your code could have something to do with Thomas Jefferson?”
“What do you mean?” I asked, intrigued.
“It’s just that…Jefferson had a mockingbird that sat on his shoulder. And the bird would sing when he played the violin,” Ford said, a hint of curiosity in his voice.
I squinted at Ford. “That’s the most random information I’ve ever heard. Why do you know that?”
Ford gave a shrug and held up the book in his hands. “I like biographies,” he explained. “They had a decent library in prison, and I did a lot of reading. Jefferson named the bird Dick, and it sat on his shoulder and sang along with the violin. And more than that,” Ford continued, leaning forward, his eyes suddenly bright. “Jefferson had a retreat he called Poplar Forest.”
“No shit,” I muttered, pieces falling into place in my brain. I sank into the armchair opposite Ford’s and did a quick search on my phone using the words Thomas Jefferson cipher. It felt like a stab in the dark, but I hit pay dirt.
I held my breath, scrolling through one web page, then another. When I’d learned what I needed to know, I looked at my brother. “Thank you. Thank you. It would have taken me a million years to put that together.”
To Ford’s obvious surprise, I threw my arms around him in a quick hug and dashed out the door. I was going to see Forrest sooner than I’d thought. But first, I’d have to go shopping.
Chapter Eight
FORREST
“Sterling Sawyer is here to see you.” Penny, the assistant I shared with Royal and Tenn, didn’t give any indication that Sterling’s visit was significant.
I knew better. Sawyers Bend was a small town, and Penny kept her ear to the ground.
“Send her in, please,” I said in the most neutral tone I could manage with adrenaline spiking my heart rate. I hadn’t heard a word from Sterling in seven days, and playing it cool was killing me. I’d picked up my phone to call her at least a thousand times, and every time, I’d put it back down. Excuses to talk to her filled my head. We could brainstorm on the clue. I could hold her magnifying glass. Mostly, I just wanted to see her, to be near her again.
I resisted the urge to play on our shared quest as a reason to see her. I’d been an idiot so far when it came to Sterling, but I was finished making stupid decisions where she was concerned. If I wanted her back, I had to be smart. Pushing for more was not the way to go. She knew I wanted her, knew my feelings hadn’t changed. And I was the one with the code. The second she figured out the clue to the key, she’d come straight to me. For now, I’d just have to wait.
I could be patient, and I had been, but every day of the past week had been an eternity. And now she was here.
I stood as she strode in, a small brown shipping box in her hands, her blue eyes bright with excitement. “Do you have it with you?” she asked the second the door closed behind Penny.
I pulled the index card out of my top desk drawer and set it in front of her on the far side of my desk. Sterling sat in the chair, perched on the edge, practically vibrating with tension. She snatched up the index card, her eyes flashing over my father’s writing, then set it back down and pried open the box in her hands.