“Last night I had the monthly meeting of the Bozeman Art Collective group in my store. We usually meet in Nick’s gallery, but he’s curating a big exhibit and needed the space.” She took a deep breath. “Mia, Nick’s granddaughter, said something at the meeting that stuck in my brain all night. I woke up at two o’clock thinking about what she’d said. Then I remembered a documentary I’d watched a while ago—”
“Kelly?”
She frowned into the phone. “Yes?”
“Get to the point. My brain is having a hard time keeping up with my ears.”
“Oh, okay. Well, to cut a long story short, I’ve cracked the code.” She smiled into the phone, expecting accolades of praise and congratulations.
“What code?”
Her smile disappeared. “What do you mean, ‘what code?’ The code for the journal, of course. I had to look up a few things on the Internet, but as soon as I saw the articles about secret messages in quilts and the Underground Railroad it all started making sense.”
“Hang on a minute…what do you mean, the Underground Railroad? What has that got to do with the journal?”
“It’s Abagail. She was a slave and escaped on the Underground Railroad. The journal is about what happened to her.”
“The journal in your mystery box?”
Kelly frowned. “You’re not much of a morning person, are you?”
“It’s four o’clock in the morning. I didn’t get home until after midnight.”
“I didn’t know you’d been out so late. Do you want me to call back later?”
Tanner muttered something under his breath. “No, I don’t want you to call back later. I’m awake now.”
Kelly smiled. She’d known Tanner wouldn’t let her down. Mia and Avery wouldn’t have answered their phone. And there was no point calling her brothers—no one would have heard the phone ring. Their snoring would drown out a fog horn blasting through the house.
“Are you still there, Kelly?”
“Sorry. I was thinking about my brothers.”
“Your brothers? What have they got to do with the journal?”
“Absolutely nothing. But the journal isn’t the only thing I discovered. The quilt is more than a quilt. The code for the journal was hidden in the pattern.”
“How on earth did you find the code?”
“I’ve already told you…Mia said something about the pattern in a quilt telling a story. I don’t know how it happened, but it just clicked. I’m going to work on the journal until I have to go into work. Can you see Sam when you go to Fletcher Security? I want to make an appointment to show her what I’ve found.”
“I can do better than that. What time does your store open?”
“Ten o’clock. Avery arrives at twelve, so I thought if Sam was available I could see her during my lunch break.”
Kelly could hear Tanner moving around. “I’ll be at your place in fifteen minutes. Don’t unlock the back door until I get there.”
“But you don’t need…” Kelly stared at her phone. Tanner had already disconnected.
She looked at her pink sweater and orange tiger print pajamas. If Tanner was coming over, she needed to get changed. And after she was dressed, she’d whip up a batch of pancakes.
Translating the journal would take a lot of time. If Tanner was a little slow in the mornings she’d add maple syrup and bacon to his plate. At least that way he’d have one less thing to grumble about.
***
Tanner banged on the back door of Kelly’s store. He stomped his feet up and down as the cold seeped through his jeans. If she didn’t make it downstairs soon he’d call her on his cell phone before he froze.
He heard a click and the door opened.
Kelly stood in the glow of the hallway light. Her dark hair was all messed up and she was wearing a fluffy purple sweater and jeans. She should have been tired, but her eyes were as bright as new buttons. She looked happy, excited, and far too pretty for this time of the morning.
“You need a doorbell,” he grumbled.
“I don’t usually have company this early in the morning,” she said with a grin. “Come inside. The coffeepot is on and I’m about to make a batch of pancakes.”
He wiped his boots on the mat inside the door. “You don’t have to go to so much bother.”
“It’s no bother. I’m a morning person, so a little less sleep isn’t a big deal.” She looked pointedly at him.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not a morning person.”
“That’s okay. I can make up for your lack of enthusiasm. Wait until you see the journal.” She closed the door and raced upstairs.
He followed more slowly, still trying to get his head around seeing Kelly’s sweet, sunny, smile so early in the morning. He followed her into her apartment. “Are you always this happy at four-thirty in the morning?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “I try to be happy all the time. The way I see it, you’ve got two choices—you can be grumpy or happy. I choose to be happy.”
He flicked the deadbolt on her door. “Do you always leave your apartment unlocked?”
“Sometimes.”
“You need a security system. It’s not safe living here on your own.” He looked around the living area. The sash windows were probably installed when the building was first built. There were no locks or security hinges anywhere. “Before I go home I’ll make a list of what you need. I can install most of it myself, but you’ll need an electrician to connect the security system to the power supply.”
Kelly stuck her hands on her hips. “I know security is your thing, but I can look after myself. I’ve been living here for two years and nothing has happened.”
Tanner cleared his throat. He wasn’t usually impulsive, but he wanted to step forward and kiss the scowl off her face. “You, ah…you mentioned something about coffee?”
“Do you promise to stop analyzing my apartment’s security?”
It was his turn to scowl. “For now.” He’d work out what she needed and bring everything around at the weekend. Being independent was all right as long as it didn’t verge on being pure stubborn.
“Good.” Kelly poured him a coffee, then darted across to her dining table. “I’ll show you the quilt and the photocopied pages from the journal. While I’m making pancakes you can start working.”
“Working?”
“Translating the journal, of course.” She slipped her hands into a pair of gloves. “I’m using these whenever I touch anything in the box. There’s another pair of gloves beside the quilt.”
Tanner left his coffee on the counter and picked up a piece of paper. “This is the translation?”
“Yes.”
He read the first two paragraphs. “Abagail wrote this while she was on a cotton plantation?”
“It starts in Charleston and ends in Montreal. I skipped to the end and read her last few entries.”
“How did you decipher the code?”
The grin on Kelly’s face caught him off guard. He focused on the paper he was holding instead of his pounding heart. His lack of sleep was messing with his brain.
“Look…” She opened the quilt and pointed to a red square.
He leaned forward. “It’s a flower.”
“It is. Do you see anything slightly different about each of the flowers?”
“They’re all about the same size. The flowers are different shapes and the stems are…” His eyes narrowed. “They’re shaped like letters of the alphabet.”
“Exactly,” Kelly said excitedly. She showed him how she’d worked out the code and watched him decipher another entry.
“This is incredible.”
“I know.” Kelly was practically jumping on the spot. “Abagail’s story will touch so many people’s lives.”
He hesitated before telling Kelly what was as obvious to him as the nose on her face. “You can’t say anything yet.”
“I know. We’ll have to translate the entire journal first, but there
’s so much information on each page. Abagail talks about her life and what’s happening around her. She worked in the home of a cotton plantation owner. I can’t even imagine what she’s going to tell us.”
Tanner picked up another pair of gloves and moved the quilt into the box. “Are you sure Abagail was a slave? It must have been unusual for her to know how to read and write.”
“She talks about that a little further into her journal. Alexander Jackson’s wife, Mary, taught her how to read and write when she was little. Mary gave Abagail the journal.” Kelly handed him another piece of paper. “I’ve made a list of the people Abagail mentions. I’ll visit the library after work and find as much information as I can about them.”
He picked up a pencil and pulled the photocopied pages toward him. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“It’s the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to me.” Kelly went back to the kitchen. “Don’t worry if the spelling is a little strange. Some of the words make more sense when you say them.”
He bent his head and decoded the next line of text while Kelly made pancakes.
Working on the journal wasn’t the most exciting thing he’d ever done, but it was one of the most enjoyable.
And if the pancakes were half as good as they smelled, it could be the best morning he’d had in a long time.
CHAPTER SIX
Tanner stretched his arms above his head and yawned. He must be getting old if one late night exhausted him.
He checked the document on his laptop and hit the save button. If he’d been in the field on an assignment it wouldn’t have been so bad, but there was work he had to do in the office—work that made his eyes water.
He closed the document and opened another one.
Fletcher Security’s head office had been built inside an old flour mill. The red brick exterior hid the transformation that had taken place inside. Instead of heavy machinery and big, open spaces, the building had been split into three levels of high-tech operations.
Tanner was on the third floor, not far from the research and development team. Samantha Jones, the person he was waiting to see, managed the team.
“There you are,” Sam said from the doorway. “Toby said you were down here.”
“I’m catching up on paperwork.”
“That’s not like you.”
“It is since I returned from my last assignment. John needs two reports finished by lunchtime tomorrow.” He glanced at his watch. “Kelly shouldn’t be too long.”
“I’ll make myself a coffee while we’re waiting. Do you want one?”
“No thanks. Have you had time to open the email from her?”
“I read it half an hour ago. She’s clever.”
The shared office space on this floor was one of Tanner’s favorite places to work. As well as great views of the mountains and gardens, the coffee was always hot and if you were lucky, you’d find something to eat on the table.
Sam reached for a cookie. “Malcolm’s daughter is experimenting with different cookie flavors for Christmas.”
“What is it today?”
Sam turned over a card that had fallen onto the table. “Hazelnut and cranberry.”
Tanner’s cell phone beeped. He read the message, closed his laptop and headed across to the small kitchen. “Kelly’s here. Tank’s bringing her upstairs.”
He made Kelly a cup of coffee and added a napkin with a cookie on it.
Sam’s eyebrows rose. “Wow. I’ve never seen you move so fast.”
“It’s not for me.”
Sam grinned. “I never would have guessed.”
For someone who was used to dealing with dangerous situations and career criminals, Tanner was developing an appalling tendency to blush. “I don’t want her to think we don’t know how to look after our guests.”
“Are you sure that’s the only reason?”
“Behave yourself.”
Tank’s quick knock on the door wiped the smile off Tanner’s face.
“Look who I found downstairs.”
“Hi, Kelly,” Sam said. “It’s good to meet you.”
Tank’s laser beam vision spotted the plate of cookies. “Yum. Have you been baking again, Tanner?”
“Very funny,” Tanner muttered.
Tank looked at the coffee and cookie sitting on the table. “You shouldn’t have.”
“I didn’t. Malcolm’s daughter made the cookies. If you want coffee, it’s in the coffeepot.” Tanner pulled out a chair for Kelly.
“See what I have to put up with, Kelly?” Tank said as he reached for a cookie. “Some days I feel so unappreciated.”
Kelly laughed. “You could always come and work for me. Avery and I bake at least twice a week.”
“Can I wear my gun?”
“No. We don’t have many hardened criminals walking into our store.”
“I’ll have to pass on your job offer, then. Tanner might like a change in career. He could be your rare book expert.”
“Haven’t you got a job to do?” Tanner asked his pain-in-the-neck best friend.
Tank headed toward the door. “I know when I’m not wanted. Enjoy your meeting, Kelly.”
“I will. Thank you for bringing me up here.”
“You’re welcome. Remember to sign out when you leave. I’ll call you later tonight, Tanner.”
“Call after eight. I’m busy before then.”
“Shall do.” Tank saluted Tanner with his cookie and left the room.
Sam sat opposite Kelly. “Thank you for sending the information about the journal.”
“You’re welcome.” Kelly pulled a parcel out of her bag.
Tanner hoped it wasn’t what he thought it was.
“I brought the journal with me. We should have scanned the original document when I saw you at the weekend.”
Tanner frowned. “You carried it all the way here on your own?”
“It’s not as if I walked. I brought my car and left the journal inside its cotton wrap. It was perfectly safe.”
“It’s not the journal I’m worried about. I did some research of my own today. Abagail said she was owned by the Jackson family—the same family who were in the photo Avery found. There could be things in the journal that their descendants don’t want anyone knowing about.”
“The journal was written more than 160 years ago. Whatever happened is in the past.”
Tanner leaned forward. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that. Alexander Jackson was an influential man.”
“Who is now a dead, not-so-influential man,” Kelly said. “Avery watched the store while I went into the library today. I met a lady called Doris Stanley. She’s the president of the Gallatin County Genealogical Society. She offered to help me trace the Jackson family tree.” Kelly pulled three sheets of paper out of her bag. “This is what she found.”
Tanner wanted to bang his head against the table. “Please don’t tell me that Doris knows about the journal?”
“Only the briefest details,” Kelly said. “Doris has a heart of gold.”
Sam looked at Tanner. “Is this the same Mrs. Stanley who runs the Bozeman Community Facebook page?”
“The one and the same.” Tanner sighed. “If she smells the faintest whiff of a story she’ll never stop asking questions.”
Kelly placed the sheets of paper on the table. “Whatever you say about Doris, you have to admit she’s helpful. She went online and found a book about the Jackson family. The library has reserved a copy for me. In the meantime, Doris helped me find some other information about Alexander Jackson.”
Tanner looked at the paper. “And?”
“At the height of his business empire, Alexander Jackson owned 308 slaves in Charleston, alone. They worked on his family’s cotton plantation.”
Tanner scanned the information. “He had a brother. Where did he live?”
“That’s the interesting part,” Kelly said. “Anton spent most of his time in Boston. Alexander lived in Charleston with
his parents. When Anton died, Alexander became the next person in line to inherit the family’s cotton plantation and manufacturing business.”
“Lucky him,” Tanner said.
Kelly ignored his comment.
“Alexander moved to Boston and made a fortune. He convinced a group of businessmen to finance one of the largest cotton factories in Boston. Within ten years, he was one of the richest men on the East Coast.”
Sam looked at Doris Stanley’s notes. “I don’t know much about business, but that seems like an incredible achievement.”
“It was, but a lot of men made a fortune from cotton production. The good thing about Alexander’s success is that it makes it easier to find his descendants. Doris found the next two generations without too much trouble. Their names and birth and death dates are on the paper you’re holding, Tanner.”
“Was Celeste Madison part of the Jackson family?” he asked.
“I don’t know. So far we haven’t come across her name or her mother’s in our research. I’m hoping the book I reserved will tell us if she was related to Alexander Jackson.”
Tanner handed Sam the notes. “How long will it take to create a program to decipher the journal?”
“Maybe an hour. Kelly figured out the hardest part. Now that we know how to convert each of the letters into reliable text the longest part will be scanning each page of the journal.”
Kelly took two pairs of gloves out of her bag and handed one set to Sam. “It’s just as well it’s after five o’clock. I think we’ll be here for a while. You don’t need to stay if you’ve got something else to do, Tanner.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss this for anything.”
“I thought you were busy tonight?”
“I am, with you.” He took the gloves out of Sam’s hand. “We can scan the journal while Sam creates a code to decipher the text.”
A slow smile worked its way across Kelly’s face. “Lead the way to the nearest scanner, Tanner. We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
Sam glanced at him. The smile on her face told him exactly what he didn’t want anyone to know.
He liked Kelly, and for him, that was as dangerous as someone holding a gun to his head. Because it didn’t matter how much he wanted a relationship to work, it always ended in disaster.
Just Breathe (The Protectors Book 2) Page 7