Lost and Found: (A Ripple Effect Romance Novella) (6 page)

“Of course,” Janet said to the voice. “I’ll be right there.” She stood and ushered Blake and Lydia into the hall and closed the door behind her. “If you’d like to send me a letter, I’d be happy to forward it to Gladys’s family. Now if you’ll excuse me,” she said and hurried down the hall.

“Great,” Blake said as they started for the exit. “Now what would Nancy Drew do?”

Lydia watched Janet turn the corner and disappear. She stepped back and tried the door. It was unlocked. “She’d find a name,” Lydia said. “Watch the door.” Before Lydia could talk herself out of it, she was back in Janet’s office.

“Lydia, I’m not sure this is a good idea,” Blake said, but his words were lost as the door closed behind her.

“Baker. Baker.” Lydia whispered as she opened the first file cabinet. It was hard to tell what these files were. Invoices? Payment records? Whatever they were, they were mostly numbers. Lydia closed the drawer and moved to the next cabinet. The top drawer started with the last name Andreason and then jumped right to Calloway. No Baker here.

And then the phone buzzed. Lydia froze. “Janet? Janet, could you please pick up? I have a delivery here for you. Janet?” a voice said through the speaker.

Lydia thought she might hyperventilate. She should leave. What if someone caught her in here? But she didn’t want Blake’s trip to be wasted, so she moved quickly to the third file cabinet. It was locked. It was probably Janet’s purse or her private stash of chocolate.

She heard voices in the hall, but couldn’t make out the words. Shadows moved in front of the frosted window in the door, and the voices continued. She was trapped here anyway. She might as well check the last file cabinet.

It was unlocked. The voices in the hall stopped as she quickly leafed through the files. Acord. Ashby. Atwood. Ball.

Baker, Gladys.

Lydia pulled out the file and looked over the first page. She flipped through the remaining pages, looking for the name of any next of kin. Nothing. Surely there was a name of some relative in here. She went back to the first page and examined it more slowly. There it was. Emergency contact: Francie Davis, Boone, North Carolina. Relationship: granddaughter. With shaking fingers, Lydia took a picture with her phone. She straightened the papers and carefully put the file back in the drawer.

“Let’s go,” she said to Blake who was waiting just outside the door. She quietly closed the door behind her.

Blake didn’t speak. They walked into the lobby, careful not to rush. Lydia’s legs felt weak and liquid. “Thanks for your help,” Blake said to Candace.

“No problem. Y’all have a nice day.”

The warm, outside air felt good. It meant that with every step, they were further from criminal charges. Blake unlocked her door for her. Lydia collapsed into her seat. Blake slid in behind the wheel and drove the car out of the parking lot.

“What did you just do?” Blake’s voice was a tense whisper, and Lydia thought he might be angry.

“I just got her granddaughter’s name and phone number.”

“Lydia.” His voice fell off, and she couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or relieved. “I was joking about becoming a criminal.”

“I know you were.”

“Will she be able to tell you went through her things?”

Lydia took a ragged breath. “No. I was very careful. Who was in the hall?”

“A guy had a printing order. I talked to him for a minute and told him Janet was out of the office but I’d be sure she got it. It’s on the floor just outside the door.”

Blake pulled into the parking lot of a department store and put the car in park but left it running.

“Are you okay?” The concern in his voice made tears sting Lydia’s eyes.

“Look at me. I can’t stop shaking.” She held her trembling hands up in front of her, and a tear slipped down her cheek.

“You’re crazy,” Blake said and pulled her into his arms. He rubbed her back, slowly replacing her frayed nerves with a wonderful tingling feeling.

“I’ve never done anything like that before,” she said, her laughter accompanied by tears. Blake held her close as she calmed down. He smelled so good—citrusy and laundry soapy and manly.

“This won’t be fun if I have to bail you out of jail. No more Nancy Drew stuff, okay?”

“Okay,” she said into his shirt. When she finally pulled away, she dried her eyes. One of Blake’s hands stayed on her back, like it was reluctant to leave. “I don’t remember Nancy Drew ever saying how scary it was to be a detective.”

Blake laughed and smoothed her hair, his hand barely touching her cheek.

“Tell me where we’re going.”

It was difficult to think of something other than the feel of his hand, but after a moment, she answered. “Boone.”

“Where is Boone?” Blake asked.

“I have no idea.” Lydia’s voice still had a little tremor in it, and Blake wished he was still holding her in his arms.

What had she been thinking? Sure, he was glad they had a name and phone number, but he’d stood out in that hall for several minutes imagining her going to jail. For him. He hadn’t known what to do. Had he done the right thing by waiting and watching outside the door? What if Lydia had been caught? Should he have gone in after her and dragged her out?

What had happened to the bookworm he’d met at the airport yesterday?

“I’ll get gas up here on the corner and you can figure out where Boone is.”

“Sounds good.” Lydia started digging through her purse. “Would you get me a bottle of water?”

“Of course. Put your purse away. I’ll get it.”

“You paid for the skydiving and my tacos. I don’t want you paying for everything.”

“A water is a lot cheaper than paying your bail. I’ve got this. You just figure out where we need to go.”

“Boone is an hour north of here,” she said when Blake came back to the car.

“It’s already three. Maybe I should try calling her before we drive up there.”

“Good idea. See if she can see us today, or if we should drive up first thing in the morning. Her name is Francie Davis.”

Blake admired Lydia’s positive attitude, but he wasn’t sure if Francie would want to see them at all. He dialed the number Lydia gave him and the phone started to ring. He felt Lydia watching him as he waited for an answer. After five rings, it went to voicemail.

“My name is Blake Knowles. I’m trying to reach Francie Davis. My grandfather knew your grandmother. I’m in North Carolina and wondered if I could speak with you. Would you give me a call at your earliest convenience?” Blake left his phone number and hung up. Almost immediately his phone beeped with a text.

I can’t talk. I’ll call you back in about five minutes.

“I guess we wait,” he said and drank most of his water. His fingers tapped on the steering wheel, releasing a little of his nervous energy. Lydia was leaning back on the headrest, her eyes closed. She looked drained.

Eight minutes later, Blake’s phone rang. “Hello,” he said on the first ring.

“Hi. This is Francie Davis. I just got your message.”

“Thank you for calling me back. I came to Hickory to see your grandmother, but… I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” Francie said. “What did you say your name was?”

“My name is Blake Knowles. Your grandmother and my grandfather were friends.”

“Ah, yes.”

“I guess my grandfather spoke to her about a year ago about a box. I don’t know what’s in the box, but he wanted me to have it, and Gladys, I mean your grandmother, said she had it and that I should come to North Carolina and get it.” Suddenly Blake felt sick inside. What if Francie didn’t have the box? And if she did have it, maybe she wouldn’t want to give it to him. Would she question why it had taken him so long to come? How would he answer that? Sure, he’d been busy with his job, but that sounded like a hollow excuse now that Grandpa was gone.

It was quiet at the other end of the phone, and Blake wasn’t sure if they were still connected. “Francie?”

“Yes, I’m still here.”

“Is there any chance you might know something about the box? My grandfather’s name was Elliott Knowles.”

“Yes. I have it.”

Francie didn’t offer to let him come retrieve the box, and he felt uncomfortable asking for it. Then Blake thought of Lydia taking a risk to get him Francie’s name. He thought of his grandfather in the hospital, hoping he’d made plans to go to North Carolina to get it, and he knew he couldn’t fail. He took a deep breath and plowed on. “Would it be possible for me to come get it?”

He waited. It was probably only a few seconds, but the silence seemed to stretch on for minutes. He knew she was thinking, and something kept him from interrupting her thoughts. Finally, she spoke. “If your grandfather wanted you to have it, I won’t keep it from you.”

Blake slowly let out the breath he’d been holding. “Thank you. Like I said, we’re in Hickory. We can be there in about an hour if that works for you.” He looked at Lydia to see if he’d given the right length of time, and she nodded.

“I’m headed home right now. You can meet me there. Do you need the address?”

Blake repeated the address and Lydia entered it into her phone.

“Thank you, Francie. We’ll see you soon.”

Lydia put the address in her phone. “We need to get back out on the highway heading north.”

Blake followed her directions, thinking about the phone call with Francie. They drove more than ten miles in silence before either of them spoke. “It didn’t even occur to me until that phone call that I might be taking something important away from someone,” Blake said. “She said she’s willing to let me take it, but she sounded sad. I mean, think about it. This box and everything in it was her grandmother’s for many years, and here’s a stranger, out of the blue, asking for it.”

“You don’t have any idea what it is?” Lydia asked.

“No. I just know what Grandpa told me.”

“What exactly did he say?”

The air started cooling as they drove into the mountains, and Blake turned the air conditioner down a notch. “I’d missed my mom’s birthday dinner because of work. She said it was fine. She understood how busy I was, but I could tell she was disappointed. I stopped by their house the next Sunday to give her a birthday present, and Grandpa was there. He asked if we could go for a little walk. He said he was worried about me and asked me if I was busy with permanent things or temporary things. I told him my career felt like a pretty permanent thing.” Blake looked at Lydia. She’d turned in the seat and was watching him as he spoke. He found her attention comforting.

“Grandpa said sometimes it’s hard to tell what’s permanent and what’s temporary. He said because of his actions, something that should have been permanent became temporary. I asked him what he was talking about, and he said he had something he wanted me to have. Something he hoped would help me figure out the difference. And then he told me about Gladys and the box she was keeping for me.

“Almost every time I saw him, which wasn’t often enough, he asked if I’d made plans to go get the box, and every time I told him, soon. I’ll go soon. After he died, my dad gave me a folder from Grandpa. It has three letters from this Gladys woman that I’m supposed to read when I get the box and a letter from him to read after I’ve gone through everything in it. I’ve got the folder in my briefcase.” Blake sighed and shook his head. “It still took me another four months to get out here and try to get it. He’s probably so disappointed in me.”

“He might have been, but I’ll bet he’s not now. Look at you. You’ll have it in a little while, and you’ll be able to see why it was so important to him.”

“And I’m taking it from a woman who probably deserves it more than I do.”

They were quiet for a moment. “Tell me about your grandpa,” Lydia said.

“He was a very successful man. His family was poor, but he worked hard and put himself through college. He went to medical school in Boston then moved to Denver and took a position. He ended up staying there and eventually became the chief of staff at the biggest hospital in Denver.”

“I guess success runs in the family. How did he meet your grandma?”

“Grandpa was much older than she was. He was pretty much a confirmed bachelor. Most people who knew him thought he’d never get married, but when he was almost forty, he met Grandma at a hospital Christmas party. She’d come as another doctor’s date, but Grandpa couldn’t take his eyes off her. When he found out the other doctor wasn’t serious about her, Grandpa said he’d like to take her out. She was sixteen years younger than him, but they fell in love and got married the next summer. She died when my dad was nine. Grandpa never remarried.”

“How sad for him.”

“I know. As successful as Grandpa was, he always seemed a little sad. They were only married thirteen years.”

“He must have really missed your grandma.”

Blake felt tormented. His eyes were trained on the road, but his thoughts were a jumble. He thought of his grandfather in the hospital. He’d barely made it to see him before he died because Blake had been in a meeting that included two of the partners. Blake thought of Gladys, a woman who somehow fit into his grandfather’s life, even though his father had never heard of her. Blake thought of the Challis-Austin merger and how Pryce Van Wagoner had probably reacted to his extended absence. He thought of this unusual girl who was afraid to face her friend and tell her she was unadventurous, but who had raided Janet’s office to help him.