Jack met my gaze, a slow smile making its way across his face. “Or the hands are arrows pointing downward.”
I followed his gaze toward the clock, remembering how each time we’d found the Frozen Charlotte, she’d been faceup halfway under the clock’s base. “I think there’s something on the bottom of the clock we’re supposed to see.” We moved behind the clock where it had been pulled away from the wall by Rich and his son, Brian. Etched on the pale wood on the bottom of the clock case were faint lines that had been dug into the surface with a sharp instrument. We could barely make them out.
“Wow. We searched the entire clock for more diamonds but never thought to look here.” Jack squatted closer to better see the indistinct scratches.
“Hang on. I have lead pencils and tracing paper in my craft drawer in the kitchen. I’ll be right back.”
“Of course you do,” Jack said as I stepped over the clock and ran toward the kitchen, returning in less than a minute as the clock continued to chime.
“For the record,” I said, handing him the supplies, “being organized can sometimes come in handy.”
“I never said it can’t.” Jack held the paper over the scratches, gently rubbing the pencil on it until enough of an image had been revealed. He stood, holding the paper so we both could see.
“I don’t understand.” I leaned in closer. “It’s a drawing of the clockface on the gravestone.”
Jack sat back on his haunches. “So, if I were a captain in the Confederacy and I came into possession of a legendary diamond, I’d want to hide it in a separate location just in case the first stash was found. But he chose not to hide it and instead put the cut gems on full display in a collar for a dog belonging to his illegitimate daughter.”
“Maybe he meant for them to be her legacy, and that was the cleverest way to hide them from both sides and ensure she remained in possession of them.”
“But she died before he did. In the fire of 1861.” Our eyes met as we reached the same conclusion. Jack spoke rapidly as if trying to keep pace with his thoughts. “So he hid them in her monument, not expecting to be killed before he could retrieve them after the war.”
“If all of this is correct, there’s no guarantee they’re still there,” I said. “If John told someone, or someone followed the clues he left behind like us, they could be long gone.”
“Or not,” Jack said, his eyes sparkling. With a sudden shout, he picked me up and spun me around. “Either way, it’s one heck of a way to end my book, don’t you think?”
I nodded as we both became aware that the clock had finally stopped chiming and the Frozen Charlotte and her coffin were gone.
CHAPTER 35
Jack and I sat on the garden bench under a blanket, pushing the bundled-up twins in their newer and bigger swings. They had grown so much over the past eight months that my father decided that, as part of the garden refurbishment, he’d gift JJ and Sarah with swings that should take them at least through their preschool years. I hated to think of them growing up that quickly, but as Nola began her senior year at Ashley Hall, we’d come to accept the inevitable.
Two things that hadn’t changed were JJ’s attachment to his whisk, currently clutched in his hand, and Sarah’s constant chattering even when she was by herself. I wasn’t sure how, or if, either thing mattered to their futures, but I wasn’t going to worry about it. Jack and I would take it in stride together.
My phone beeped and I looked down to see another text from Rebecca. Despite her hopes that the shower would change her marriage, it had not. She blamed it on my desertion, as if I’d planned Nola’s abduction by a murderer and the ensuing house fire. Still, she texted me several times a day from her new house on Kiawah Island, asking me for advice on mothering her infant daughter, Tiffani. I’d tried to dissuade her from saddling her daughter with that name and spelling, but like everything Rebecca, she wanted to do it her way. Including her sensational divorce, in which she’d taken Marc for everything that hadn’t been confiscated by the Feds when he’d been arrested in a surprise Sunday morning takedown the week after the shower. Jack and I had happily lent Rebecca the funds needed to hire the best lawyers. It was the least we could do, I told her. Because we were family. I put my phone on silent, not wanting to spoil this perfect morning with Jack and our children.
“Hello? Anybody out here?” Suzy Dorf came through the garden gate, latching it behind her. My stomach no longer clenched when I saw a text from her, and now I even considered her a friend. Although still overly inquisitive and sometimes downright nosy, she’d proven to be a strong ally in our battle with Marc Longo.
Jack stood, offering his seat on the bench, but she refused. “Really, Jack, sit back down. I only wanted to stop by for a minute to give you this.” Suzy handed us a copy of the morning paper. “I thought you two should be the first to see it.”
I leaned over Jack’s shoulder and read the bold-faced headline.
LOCAL BUSINESSMAN MARC LONGO FOUND GUILTY OF RACKETEERING, TAX EVASION, AND ART THEFT
I looked up, unable to stop smiling. Marc deserved everything he had coming to him, and I couldn’t find a scrap of sympathy for him.