I turned it over and looked at it closely. A million questions flitted through my head. There were no details except a location within a house. I looked at the envelope again. The writing had all but faded except the last part of Massachusetts.
So this was in the right state, at least. I read Grandpa’s note again. It said he’d found the letter. But where?
From my purse, I grabbed the compass Grandpa had given me when I was a child. It was a symbol to remind me to never lose my way in any adventure, whether it be life or a scavenger hunt.
The familiar excitement of finding something sizzled beneath the surface—an ultimate scavenger hunt.
Sydney
I needed coffee. I’d forgotten to get caramel creamer the day before. That, combined with the fact that I’d stayed up too late researching the damn letter and the coin, made me very, very tired.
I hadn’t found out anything except that Ayana meant “beautiful blossom.” By the way the letter had been signed, I thought it might be a nickname. But the letter gave me little to go on.
No names.
No address.
No date.
The only thing I had was a description of a hearth, which sounded upscale for the time period. From the wording of the letter, I assumed it was late nineteenth or early twentieth century.
But with regard to the coin, I had nothing. It was like there were no records of a coin or medallion like it ever being made.
Clear it from your mind.
I needed to focus on the clinic.
The moving company confirmed my things would arrive the next day. It was perfect timing to move into the house. I had to go through all of Grandpa’s things and decide what to do with everything. It all seemed too quick. Maybe for now, it would be fine to leave everything as is until it was time for the clinic remodel.
I unlocked the front door to the clinic and turned on the OPEN sign, letting out a bittersweet sigh. My first day in my own practice. A dream come true. I hated that the day was tinged with sadness because my grandpa should have been there.
In the tank along the wall, the Oscar fish swam back and forth. “Morning, Ragnor.”
I took a few pellets from the food bag and dropped them into the tank. Nearly three years old, Ragnor measured almost fifteen inches long. One summer morning, we’d found him on the front porch of the clinic, which happened from time to time when people wanted rid of their pets. Grandpa had taken him in, and Ragnor became our office mascot, of sorts.
The door chimed as Marie walked in with a basket of goodies. “Morning, Sydney. I made some chocolate chip cookies.”
The sweet smell of chocolate filled the air. “Morning, Marie. Thanks for holding down the fort while I was out.”
“Oh, pish posh. It’s my job. Are you sure you don’t need a little more time off?” Marie was in her late fifties and kept the clinic in perfect running order.
I took my white coat with the paw print above the left pocket off the hook and put it on. “I need the distraction. It will be good to get back into a routine.”
Seemingly satisfied with my response, Marie moved on to business. “I kept the schedule light for the next week while you get situated and moved in.”
“Perfect. That will help. Thanks, Marie.” Halfway to the kitchen to get a plate for cookies, I asked, “Did you know about the house on Charter Street?”
Marie put a hand on her curvy hip and gave me a wink. “Nothing gets past me in this office. Virg tried to hide it, but he was too damned excited. The whole town knew. Now let’s have a cookie for breakfast and celebrate.”