Page 44 of The Last Letter of Rachel Ellsworth

“Yes.” He gestured. “Let’s go look around.”

It was a large supermarket with an Indian flavor. Veronica browsed the produce, finding fruits she’d never seen, and giant versions of others. She picked up a hand of ginger that was more like an arm, and next to it, a reddish root that turned out to be turmeric. She’d seen it in Boulder, of course, that center of all foodstuffs and cooks who loved to dazzle their guests with the new and most challenging and interesting items around. The root was a beautiful color, and smelled sharply astringent. “I wonder how to change the grated amount for the powdered. It makes me want to try it,” she said. “Just to see what it’s like.”

Henry’s hands were tucked lightly in his jeans pockets, the photographer’s vest giving him a dash of adventure. In the neon lighting, his eyes were more green than light brown, like a cat. “I am not called to cook anything, but I’d be happy to eat if you want to experiment.”

“Sadly, I have no place to cook right now.” She eyed a pile of tidy garlic, and some red onions, her brain tossing together possible meals even if she couldn’t cook. “You don’t like cooking?”

“Not really. I mean, I’ve never really learned.”

“Maybe you should take some lessons.”

“Maybe,” he said.

She grinned up at him. “That sounds very definite.”

“Cooking seems so fussy, all the ingredients, and the temperatures and the different pans and cuisines.” He lifted his camera and took shots of the scene, the piled-up ginger and turmeric, the apples and grapefruits. He held the camera lightly in big hands. They were well tended, with oval nails, neatly filed.

She brushed the noticing away, slightly embarrassed.Celestine,she thought, referring to the spicy sex maven in that Kristy MacColl song.

“It is complicated,” she agreed.

“There are some open-air markets in Mumbai you would enjoy. We’ll have a kitchen there. I’ll have to look them up.”

“I would totally love that.”

After a long, easy circle around the store, Veronica had a few things in a basket, and pulled a card out of her phone case to pay. It was rejected.

She tried it again. Same result.

“Maybe your bank blocked it because you’re in a new place,” Henry suggested. “Let me.”

“Oh, no, you don’t have to. It’s just—”

“My pleasure,” he said, and met her eyes. “You can cook for me sometime.”

The words were light, but his hazel eyes seemed very bright.Stop. He’s just being nice.“Okay.” She let him pay.

Her phone buzzed.

Will be about an hour,the message from Mariah read.You guys look for the address, and we can eat when I’m done.

Veronica relayed the message. “We can find lunch when she’s done.”

According to her phone map, the address was a few blocks south of their current location. “What are we supposed to do when we get there, though?”

Henry shrugged. “This is the next clue. We have to follow it.”

“The Case of the Mysterious Address,” Veronica said, thinking of Mariah’s reference to the girl detective. “Just call me Nancy.” She frowned. “I can’t think of her sidekick’s name.”

“I’m no sidekick, lady.”

Veronica laughed. “Fair.Veronica and Henry and the Case of the Mysterious Address.” Despite the gloomy day, her spirits felt light. “Do you have any theories about what this whole mystery is about? You knew Rachel pretty well.”

“She never talked about her time in India. To be honest, she was opaque at the best of times.”

“It’s hard to get a handle on what she had in mind, just from her notes and this scavenger hunt.”

“I bet. Did you get any of the letters from Jill?”