Page 89 of The Romance Adventure

“And I always appreciate a bird’s-eye view.” He winks and then takes a bite of the Rice Krispies treat. I’m pretty sure he mutters, “Kulkoka.”

Throwing caution to the wind, I hurry back to my sister’s bookshop. Royal isn’t here, and for half a second, I consider going after him, but first, I need to look for something.

I tell Bean about my conversation with Mr. Edmonton.

“A bird’s-eye view. Ha ha,” my sister says, given the fact that her name is Robyn.

I grip her arm. “Wait. He somehow knows all the goings on in town. The plastic pink flamingos are part of a townwide messaging system.”

“We have our own coconut wireless.”

“But—” My thoughts race and I scramble around behind the counter, looking for the disk drive Royal gave me.

“What are you doing?”

“Mr. Edmonton mentioned his personal library. Do you have any books that have to do with the Driftwood?” I power up the laptop.

“Isla, I’ve cataloged every book in this store. I wish there were a book about the Driftwood, but that has yet to be written.”

“What about Coco Key? Anything to do with this area?”

I plug the disk drive into the device and while it populates the content, I scratch my head. “Why would Gerome Glandman want the resort? It’s a dump. No, he’s interested in the property itself. Think about the will. There’s something there. Something valuable.”

“Don’t you think Chip would’ve found it?”

“The Driftwood is like a ship on land, maybe we’re looking for⁠—”

Bean’s eyes light up. “Be right back.”

I click on the most recent folder, searching for the images Royal took with his drone. First, there are a few photos of him skydiving, and I can’t help but feel my heart plummet. Yes, he rescued me, but when I asked if he’ll be back, his reply, You still have news sounded more like a goodbye than a promise to return.

However, even if he doesn’t think his grandfather’s message meant something, I’m the accidental executrix. It’s my duty to see this through.

“If I were Chip Almeida, where would I hide my secrets so my grandsons could find them?” From above, the resort property on the peninsula moves inward in concentric circles like ripples formed by a stone dropping into still water—or a boat at sea. There’s the coastline running a ring bordering the water. Inland from that are sweeping lawns moving out from the building structures themselves—the villas and the main resort building. It reminds me of a fleet of ships moving across the Atlantic, Brigantines, Frigates, and Schooners filled with treasure.

I gasp softly as the overgrown outline of the mini golf course takes shape. “Start on the eighteenth,” I whisper. “The eighteenth hole.”

“Found it,” Bean calls from between the stacks of books. She carries a dusty, leatherbound book that looks older than Mr. Edmonton.

“Me too. Maybe. I found something, but what’s that?”

“A ship’s log. Mr. Edmonton salvaged things from old boats, planning on someday starting a museum. He and Chip would compare artifacts. This was the first item either one of them ever discovered.”

I squint as if hoping my sister’s flash of brilliance will become clear.

“The ship’s captain claimed this land. He was the original property owner, if you could call him that. According to Mr. Edmonton, Chip won the island in a bet from the pirate’s great-great-grandson.”

“Really?”

“Who knows for sure, but it’s worth looking into.”

“Speaking of looking, what do you see here?” I point at the computer screen.

“The beginnings of a jungle. A lot of overgrowth.”

I trace my finger around the miniature golf course as if I were connecting the dots on a grade school worksheet.

Bean’s mouth drops open. “Oh. That looks like a crown⁠—”