“Excuse me?” Jean-Paul said, turning around in his seat. “What is it you two are whispering about, hmm? It sounds très intéressant. A newspaper clipping? You will figure what out?”
“What?” Sapphire piped up, looking at Jack and Miranda in the rear view mirror. “Jean-Paul, what are you going on about? What gossip are you getting into?”
“There has been some quiet talk in the back between our friends, about some newspaper clipping or other.” Jean-Paul’s eyes fairly glittered with interest. His mustache twitched as he pursed his lips. “I was just wondering if we could all hear this story? It is not polite to keep secrets, after all.”
“Hey, don’t pry!” Sapphire said, and swatted his shoulder.
The van swerved as she did it, and she quickly put her hands back on the wheel to bring them back into their lane.
After a moment for everyone to catch their collective breath, Jack cleared his throat. “Why don’t we all just enjoy the rest of the journey back home in peace. I think Miranda was trying to get some sleep, actually.”
“You tell ‘em, Jack,” Kyle said. “They don’t need to pry.”
“It’s okay,” she told them both. “Jean-Paul is just worried about me.”
“So am I, honey,” Sapphire put in quickly. “Um. I think. Is there something to be worried about?”
Behind her Kyle made a rude noise, and she could practically feel him rolling his eyes. “Oh, this woman would drive a saint to drink.”
Miranda wanted to remind him that he had never been a saint, ever, not even when he was alive and writing restaurant reviews as a food critic.
All eyes were still on her. She realized that there was nothing for it but to share her burden. Her friends knew there was a problem now, and they were curious people to begin with. Jack gave her an apologetic look for ever bringing it up here, even if he had been whispering. It didn’t matter. This was something too big to keep to herself.
For a place like Moonlight Bay, that was saying a lot.
“Well,” she started, “um, just before we left for our camping trip I got an anonymous letter. Well, it wasn’t a letter, actually, but it was anonymous.”
“Go on,” Jean-Paul said, having swiveled almost completely around in his seat to face her.
“Well, you know my neighbors, Isabel and Deirdre?”
“Of course. The nice old lady, and that vicious shrew of a niece who lives with her?” Jean-Paul said derisively.
“Hey, that’s not nice,” Sapphire objected immediately.
“Maybe not,” Kyle muttered, “but it’s true.”
Miranda couldn’t argue. She adored Isabel, and felt sorry that her health had taken such a turn in her old age. At the same time, Isabel’s niece Deirdre was an annoying busybody. Living on the same street with them was a challenge at best.
“So, where do the nice old lady and the vicious niece fit in?” Jean-Paul asked.
“Deirdre had an envelope handed to her that was addressed to me,” Miranda explained. “Inside the envelope was an old newspaper clipping. It, um, had a personal connection to me.”
“Oh?” Jean-Paul hummed. “Well. Now I am intrigued.”
“Me, too,” Sapphire chirped, “and I’m never one to gossip.”
“Oh really?” Kyle jumped on that. “Then there must be two Sapphire Moon-Flowers running around out there. You have a twin, Sapphire?”
Miranda gave him a look, and he stopped, but he folded his arms across his chest to show he didn’t appreciate being hushed.
“Go on, Miranda,” Jack encouraged her. “It might help to talk it all out again.”
She doubted that, but she went on anyway. “Well, years ago my Aunt Connie disappeared, and no one has ever known what happened to her. The article in the envelope? It was about Connie.”
“Bizarre,” Sapphire said, summing up exactly what Miranda thought about the whole affair. “And this was after that tour boat captain… what was his name? The man who came to your door and said he knew Connie?”
“Josh Bates,” Miranda answered, trying not to shiver when she thought of the bizarre little man who had appeared out of the blue, claiming a friendship to her missing Aunt Connie, or about how his boat had caught fire and sank, or about how he was now missing. Maybe even dead.
“Yes, Josh Bates!” Sapphire said, snapping her fingers as if responding to Miranda’s own thoughts. “That was him. Josh Bates. Well. So we have him arriving out of the blue, and then this article about your aunt, and so now you’re naturally thinking he’s involved somehow?”
“Sapphire,” Jack said abruptly, “stop!”
“What? I wasn’t prying. Miranda knows I have only her best interests—”
“No, no!” Jack said insistently, “I mean stop the car!”
