Jacqui stared out the window as they approached. The actual mine was hard to see until you got close, Khizar knew. Right now, it was all outbuildings where equipment had been stored, and single-story office buildings where Bill’s overseers had run day-to-day operations.
He’d had an apartment in one of those building, too. Khizar thought they should start there, even though Bill’s clue seemed to direct them to the mine itself.
John let the vehicle roll to a stop next to one of the main buildings. The entrance to the mine was in front of them, and the building with Bill’s apartment was off to the right-hand side.
Khizar suggested checking Bill’s apartment first, and Jacqui agreed. John took a quick look around the area before they got out of the car, then stayed there while Khizar and Jacqui looked through Bill’s apartment.
There wasn’t anything personal left in the three small rooms. The furniture was still there, along with a few dishes, but Jacqui didn’t find any pictures or letters or anything that might have been her great-uncle’s.
Khizar could see that she was disappointed, so he pulled her in for a quick hug before they went to check the mine itself.
There was a wooden doorframe around the mine’s entrance. Khizar remembered Bill’s note to them.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” he asked Jacqui.
She nodded.
“Check the door. We may not have to go into the mine at all.”
They each took a side of the entryway, peering closely at the door and the surrounding frame. Khizar didn’t see anything, and when he looked over at Jacqui, she shook her head.
Next, Khizar ran his hands over the wood, using his fingers to feel for hidden divots or bumps in the frame. Jacqui followed suit, checking the door itself.
When he got to the beam of wood overhead, he felt something. Just a small indentation in the wood, but if he pushed there, he thought something shifted. He pushed a bit harder and felt something come loose and slide to the left.
“Jacqui, I think I’ve got something.”
She left the door and came to stand by him. Khizar slid the hidden compartment open completely and reached carefully inside it. When he pulled his hand away, he held a small metal cylinder.
Jacqui stared at it, and he gently handed it to her, wrapping her fingers around it. She pried open the end of the cylinder and turned it upside down. A rolled-up piece of paper slid out into Jacqui’s hands, and she gave the cylinder back to Khizar, then took a deep breath.
Unrolling the paper, she read aloud:
“Dear Jacqueline,
I assume you’re reading this after I’m dead and gone. I’m sorry we didn’t have the opportunity to get to know each other.
You’ll be wondering why I didn’t offer to take you in after your parents died. To explain that, I should probably start at the beginning.
My brother—your grandfather—and I had a fight when we were young men. It was a stupid fight, though it didn’t seem so at the time. I left home and found a job as a miner, which sounded a lot more glamorous than it turned out to actually be.
But, deep in the earth, with my hands in the dirt, I found myself. It’s the only place I’ve ever truly felt comfortable, the only place I think I’ve ever been myself.
Long story short, I got lucky. And then I spent the next few decades learning everything I could, so I got smart, too. At least about diamonds. I never got smart about family. Too stubborn and too set in my ways.
So, even after my brother died, I stayed away. I didn’t even know he had a son, not until after your parents were killed in the car accident. Because of my wealth, I would occasionally get people claiming to be long-lost relatives. One of my lawyers dealt with that, and in tracking down one false claim, he discovered your parents’ obituary.
I came to Milwaukee thinking I could bring you home to live with me. But when I saw you with your new parents, I couldn’t do it. You were happy and healthy, and they loved you. I knew your life with them would be so much better than growing up following me around diamond mines.
I’m so used to not having family, and I didn’t see any need to burden you with the knowledge that you have a random great-uncle. Maybe one day when you’re older, but I doubt it. I’m an old man already, and I suppose I’m still too set in my ways.