She swept her hair back behind her ears. “Is there something I can do for you?” Her irritation was apparent and her offer didn’t sound terribly genuine.
“I’m looking for a librarian here—Laney Lindstrom.” His gaze darted around the area. The woman at the information desk had said Laney would be up here but he only saw an old man sitting at one of the tables across the room.
She eyed him warily. “I’m Laney.”
He snapped his head back to look at her. Of course she was. “You’re Laney?”
“Yes,” she said tightly. “Can I help you with something?” Her voice had grown even more irritated than before.
He’d really stepped in it this time. It seemed like everything he did increased her annoyance with him.
Jack held out his hand to her. “Let’s start over. I feel like we may have gotten off on the wrong foot.”
She looked from his hand to his face, but didn’t return the handshake. “I’m sure we did, but I still don’t know who you are.”
Yeah, he had forgotten to mention that. “I’m Jack LaFlamme from—”
“Ambright College,” she finished. She scanned him from head to foot, then gingerly took his outstretched hand and shook it with the force of a jellyfish. “I didn’t recognize you without the beard. I left a message for you yesterday but you never called back. I didn’t expect to hear from you for a while because of Spring Break. Did you come all the way out here to talk to me?”
“Yes, my secretary said that you had information about a shipwreck off the coast of Agre Island. I called yesterday, but all I got was voicemail.”
“Oh.” She sighed. “The reception here is horrible. My phone never rang or registered that someone had called.” She picked a stray book up from a table and shelved it between a few other books on a nearby bookshelf, before looking backing at him. “But why didn’t you call me after you arrived in town instead of just showing up here?”
He shrugged. “It was late in the day when I arrived in Fortune’s Bay and I didn’t want to bother you.”
She eyed him as if she thought he was lying.
“Look, it sounded important, so when I couldn’t get ahold of you, I came out here.” He looked around. “Is there somewhere we can go to talk about the shipwreck?”
“Yeah, I guess.” She bit her lip and glanced back at the base of the bookshelf.
Things weren’t going well between them. He seemed to have offended her, but he wasn’t sure how. Maybe a gesture of goodwill would smooth things over.
He smiled at her and motioned to where she’d lost her locket. “How about if I try? My arms are little bit longer than yours and I might be able to reach it.”
She considered his idea and then shrugged. “If you can get it, that would be great. Otherwise I’ll have to figure out something to snag it with.”
He lowered himself to the floor where she’d been sitting, flattening his body to the ground. He twisted his arm around to reach underneath the bookshelf. Between chasing after dogs and fishing for lockets in a library, his trip had been anything but ordinary. He hoped that would extend to her information about the shipwreck.
“I must have looked pretty silly doing that,” she observed from above. “Because you look ridiculous.”
He grinned to himself with his face pressed against the shelf and stretched his fingers out, sweeping them under the bookshelf along the dusty floor. Finally, the tips of his fingertips touched something solid and metallic. He pushed his shoulder as close to the shelf as he could and managed to catch the locket with his index finger. He pulled it toward him, dislodging a family of dust bunnies in the process.
“Did you get it?” she asked anxiously, now crouching close to him in her skirt.
He wriggled away from the wall, the intoxicating scent of her rose perfume making him realize how close in proximity they were. He sat up and brushed the locket off before handing it to her.
Her face lit up. “Oh, thank you. I was so worried about it. It’s a family heirloom that my grandmother wore every day.”
“No problem. I’m happy to help.” He jumped to his feet and cleaned the remaining dust from his hands.
She tucked the locket into a pocket of the fashionable cardigan sweater she wore over a silk camisole and then looked up at him, her smile extending all the way to her eyes. He sucked in his breath. He’d thought she was pretty the night before, but when she smiled—there was something about her that enchanted him.
“Are you ready?” she asked, checking her wristwatch. “I can spare a few minutes to fill you in on the details, but we’ll have to meet up later if you want to see the book I found the notation about the shipwreck in. I wish I’d known you were coming.”
He nodded. “Of course. I’d be happy to make an appointment with you for later, but anything you can tell me in the meantime would be great.”
She jerked her thumb at a table surrounded by bookshelves in the corner of the library. The old man had packed up and left, leaving them alone on the second floor. “It’s pretty quiet in the history section. We can chat over there.”
“Lead the way.” He was chomping at the bit for information about this shipwreck and it would have been nice to see the historical text now, but he’d have to make do with a quick chat and a more extensive discussion later. Besides, as he followed her to the back of the library, he couldn’t help but think that she might be someone he’d like to get to know a little better.
5
“Dane Elwers Recovery, how may I help you?” a woman chirped on the other end of the line.
“Dane, please. Tell him it’s Jack LaFlamme calling.” He spun from side to side in the swivel chair in his room at the bed and breakfast. He hadn’t had much of a choice in lodging, but once he looked past the overwhelming quantity of floral patterns that decorated the room, he’d considered himself lucky. The room was bigger than he’d expected and he’d been pleased to find a work desk placed under the window.
“Please hold.” The line clicked and elevator music came on, then cut out just as suddenly.
“Jack, old buddy,” his friend’s voice boomed out from the phone’s speakers, “what’s up? I haven’t heard from you in a while.”
“I know, it’s been almost a year, I think. We’ve got to get together more often, but work is always so busy.”
“No kidding. I’ve had more clients this year than the last three years combined.”
“Speaking of which, I’ve got a favor to ask.” Jack scooted his chair forward.
“Sure. Anything for you. What do you need?”
“I may have a lead on a shipwreck.” He hesitated. “Dane, it could be the Livingston.” He couldn’t keep the excitement out of his voice. At this point, he’d be severely disappointed if it wasn’t the ship he’d been looking for, although he knew it was a long shot.
“Whoa. Really? After all these years?” Dane whistled. “That’s unbelievable.”
“I know. It’s probably not it, but there’s a chance.” Jack glanced at the notes he’d made from his conversation with Laney and his spine tingled. She’d provided some information about the journal, but once he saw the settler’s map, he should know more. Was he finally going to locate the Livingston? He shook his head to focus.
“Anyway, I need your services. Can you have a small dive boat and crew, ready to explore just north of Fortune’s Bay, in a few days, if I need it?”
“Of course. Just give me a call if you end up needing it and I’ll set it up.”
“Thanks.”
“So, how’d you hear about this site? Was it through the college? You’re still teaching there, right?” Dane’s voice was heavy with curiosity. Jack had been bending his friend’s ear about the Livingston ever since college.
“I am, but it’s a funny story. It wasn’t anyone from the college. I’m in Fortune’s Bay and the librarian here fancies herself a historian. She came across a reference to a shipwreck in an old text. She called me at my office because she had a cop
y of that book I wrote on shipwrecks in south central Florida. She wanted to talk with me before she explored the area herself.”
“A librarian told you about it?” Dane laughed. “And she’s going out to the site herself? I hope she doesn’t fall and break a hip.”
“She’s not exactly what you’d think of when you imagine a small-town librarian. She’s maybe thirty and pretty feisty.” A vision of Laney, with the memory of her rose-scented perfume, popped into his head and a peculiar feeling came over him. There was something that drew him to her that he just couldn’t shake.
“So, she’s more of the sexy librarian type? Does she wear tight skirts and glasses? Or chide you for talking to loudly?” Dane asked in a teasing voice.
“No. Well, yes, I guess. I hadn’t noticed,” he stammered. The air-conditioning unit kicked on, blowing the maps he’d stacked on the desk, and he scrambled to catch them before they hit the floor.
“Uh-huh. I’ll bet. The Jack LaFlamme I knew would know if he had or hadn’t seen a pretty woman.”
“Maybe fifteen years ago, but I don’t have time for that now. Not if I want to get tenure in my department. I’ll leave you carefree single guys to that.” He scribbled on a notepad.
“Hey, are you talking about me?” Dane joked. “I happen to be a well-respected business owner. Plus, I also happen to have a girlfriend. A serious one.”
Jack’s attention snapped back to the phone. Dane had a serious girlfriend? He looked out the window. Past the flowered curtains, all he saw were fluffy clouds and sunshine. The sky didn’t seem to be falling.
“Really?”
Dane laughed. “Yes, really. We met at the grocery store of all places. I asked her how to tell if an avocado was ripe. She took pity on my lack of cooking skills and invited me to dinner. That was about six months ago and we’ve been together ever since.”
“Wow. I’m happy for you.” It seemed like more of his friends from college were in serious relationships or getting married now. Some even had kids already. However, he’d never expected Dane to fall into the same trap. He’d always been the consummate playboy—dating a new girl every week. Although Jack had dated his share of women in the past, he’d always known that a life as a bachelor professor was in his future. It wasn’t all bad though. At least he was doing what he loved.
Dane cleared his throat. “Actually, I’d been meaning to talk with you about Mindy, my girlfriend.”
“What do you mean?” Jack leaned back in the swivel desk chair, almost tipping it over in the process. He steadied himself with the desk and focused on what his friend was saying.
On the other end of the line, Dane took a deep breath. “I’m planning on asking her to marry me next week.”
“Whoa.” Jack’s pen rolled off the desk and he bent over to pick it up, then idly flipped it back and forth between his fingers.
“Yeah, I know. I never expected it to happen to me either. Anyway, I was hoping that if she says yes, you’ll be my best man.”
A feeling of joy swept over Jack. He and Dane had been roommates, then friends since their freshman year of college. “Of course. I’d love to. And I’m sure she’ll say yes. How could she possibly say no to you?”
His friend’s voice turned nervous. “I hope she says yes. I’ve never felt like this before. About any woman. From the moment I saw Mindy, I knew she was the one.” He was quiet for a moment. “Have you ever felt like that?”
Jack flashed back to meeting Laney in the park when she’d been searching for Marshmallow. She’d been flushed and her hair a mess, but she’d been more beautiful than any woman he’d seen before. Even the way she fought back when he scolded her about losing Marshmallow had been sexy. And then when he’d seen her in the library, the same feeling had come over him. He didn’t often meet women who were both beautiful and smart—much less interested in shipwrecks. But thinking that was crazy. He’d only met her a few times and she pretty much hated him. There was no way there would ever be a future for them.
“Nope,” he lied. “Can’t say that I have. We can’t all be lucky in love.” In a more somber tone, he said, “but I’m happy for you, buddy. Let me know what happens, okay? I’d love to be in your wedding party.”
“Will do. And keep me up-to-date on the shipwreck. I’ll reserve a dive boat for you, just in case.”
“Thanks, man.” Jack tapped the End Call button and sat back in his chair. Everything in his life seemed to be turning topsy-turvy. He may have found the Livingston after searching for it for so many years and now, his old friend was getting married. He shook his head. Crazy. At least one thing was certain. At this point in his life, his primary focus was finding the shipwreck. Nothing else came close in priority.
* * *
“So, where’s this book you’ve been talking about?” A deep voice asked from the direction of the door.
Laney’s head shot up. Jack. If possible, he looked even better than when she’d seen him the day before—and he probably knew it too. He was the kind of guy that thought his looks would get him anywhere. She glanced at her watch. Five minutes past nine o’clock. Part of her had hoped he wouldn’t show up, but in truth, she needed his help.
“You’re late.” She glanced at him quickly, then turned back to her papers, trying to give him the impression that she couldn’t care less about him.
“Sorry, I don’t know my way around town yet. I got stuck behind a long line of college kids at the bakery and then I took a wrong turn on the way here. Did you know there’s a Bay Street and a Bay Court?” He held up a brown-paper sack and flashed her a mouth full of pearly white teeth. “Do you want a cinnamon roll?”
Before she had a chance to respond, he opened the bag and the scent of baked doughy goodness wafted across the room. Her mouth watered at the thought of the pastry. She’d skipped breakfast in her hurry to get to the library to do some research before her meeting with him, and at this point she’d kill for something to eat. However, the guy rubbed her the wrong way and she didn’t want to be indebted to him. As soon as he left, she’d scarf down the tuna sandwich she’d brought for lunch.
“I’m fine. Thanks.” Her traitorous stomach growled and he laughed.
“Are you sure? I bought two. And two coffees.” He offered her the drink tray he held in his other hand.
He’d worn down her defenses; she couldn’t resist the caffeine. She reached out for the coffee and sipped it, burning her tongue in the process. He sat down across from her at the long table and pushed a cinnamon roll at her, then took one out for himself.
“Eat.”
She eyed the cinnamon roll and then reached for it hungrily. She’d already accepted his coffee, she might as well take the pastry too. In for a penny, in for a pound. “Thanks.”
“So, tell me a little about this book that you found the map in. Is it that one?” He gestured to a particularly aged leather-bound book at the far end of the book-littered table.
She swallowed the bite of gooey cinnamon roll in her mouth and washed it down with a sip of coffee. “Yes.” She gave him a worried look. “But don’t touch it until we’re done eating. It’s quite old and fragile.”
He regarded her with a wounded expression. “Of course. I’ve seen my share of historical texts, you know.”
She focused her eyes on him. With his youthful appearance and carefree attitude, she’d almost forgotten he was a world-renowned scholar of Florida shipwrecks—the entire reason she’d contacted him in the first place. Had she been too hard on him? He flashed her another smile.
Nope. He may be smart, but he was still a conceited jerk that had made fun of Marshmallow.
He popped the rest of his cinnamon roll in his mouth and swigged his coffee, tossing them in the trash from a few feet away as though he were a basketball star. “Ready?”
Laney finished hers and walked over to the garbage cans to carefully dispose of her paper cup. “Yes.”
She picked up the book and handed it to him. “This was donated to us fro
m the estate of one of the settlers in the area.”
He picked the book up and opened it reverentially, gazing at the inscription on the first page. “This has to be from the early 1900s.”
She nodded. “It is. The man who wrote it dated his entries. He was one of the many sponge divers who worked in this area at the time. Back in the day, Florida had a booming sponge trade.” Flipping the page carefully, she pointed to the date. “The entry where he mentions seeing the shipwreck off Agre Island is about midway through the book, in June 1910. He stated the shipwreck looked like it had been there for a long time.”
He stared at the book in wonder. “So, this could be the Livingston.”
“Excuse me?” She cocked her head to the side, excitement rising in her chest. “Did you say you might know what ship it is?”
“Well, maybe.” He opened the book to the June entries and ran his finger down the edge of the page where the author had drawn a crude map of the area. “The Livingston was a British merchant ship that went down off the coast around here. I’ve been tracking it since I was in grad school, but the general thought was that the wreck would be about twenty miles north of Agre Island, so I’ve never looked any closer to that area. With the currents around there, who knows though.” He shrugged. “This may not even be its remains, but if it were, this could be the find of a lifetime.”
“Whatever it is, I don’t think it’s been recorded previously. At least not that I can determine from any of the materials I’ve looked through.” She gestured to the other books on the table.
“Why were you reading the journal anyway?” he asked as he pulled a more contemporary map of the coast closer to him to study. “Was this just a random find in the course of your duties here at the library?”
She shook her head. “I majored in history for my undergraduate degree and have always been a little obsessed with the history of this area, ever since I moved to Florida for college. Sometimes we get books like these donated to the library and whenever I have the chance, I read them.” She glanced at the map the settler had drawn. “But I’ve never found anything like this before.” A shiver ran up her spine. “This is like being part of something right out of the history texts.”
A Map To Destiny Page 3
