Jack tore open the letter to readYou know you’re not smart enough for this, nephew.
Jack nearly screamed with rage. This time, he recognized the handwriting to be Tio Angelo’s. He remembered it from decades ago, when his uncle had left him instructions for what to do and where to sell each day. Jack always burned the letters, knowing that it was essential not to leave any evidence behind.
Now, his uncle had discovered who he was and where he was—and how close he was.
Jack tore out of the bar and ran all the way to José’s place. But when he reached it, the windows were dark, and the door was locked. He had a horrible feeling. Peering through the window, he realized that everything had been taken from the cabinets. The table had been shoved to the opposite wall, and no photographs hung on the fridge or on the walls. Even the photograph of José and Angelo had been removed from the hall. Jack began to shake. It was clear that he’d made a mistake along the way, that he’d clued José or Angelo in on his identity. But when? How?
Grief tore through him. He walked the streets of Mexico City, unable to believe that he’d gotten so close only to fail. He alsofelt terrible about José and his family, who’d maybe had to leave their home to get away from Jack. He hoped the toddlers weren’t panicking about the change of scenery. He hoped that José’s wife wasn’t too frightened.
Again, he went to a phone booth to call Addison. But this time, the phone went straight to voicemail, as though she’d somehow managed to block all numbers coming in from Mexico. He felt as though every door to his previous life had been slammed shut. There on the street, alone in the middle of the night, he felt tears come to his eyes. He didn’t know how to control himself.
Chapter Eleven
Present Day
There on the sofa of the house in Madequecham Beach, Jack finished his story about his time in Mexico and how complicated it had gotten after summer ended. “I felt sure I could get closer to Angelo again,” he said, feeling tremendously tired, his words slurring together. “I couldn’t figure out how to leave Mexico City, knowing he was somewhere around there. I felt like a failure. I checked everywhere I’d delivered anything for his little company. I tried to interview people I’d had contact with. But nobody would get me closer to him. Nobody would clue me in. Not for any money. I even tried to pay them. Not for anything.”
Charlotte was quiet, cupping her elbows. She looked forlorn. Jack wondered if she respected anything he’d done the past few months. If she knew about Addison and the kids, she’d probably accuse him of abandoning them. He’d begun to think that was what he’d done himself.
“That day that Dad came to Hawaii to warn me about Tio Angelo, I lost my head,” Jack said. “I lost track of everything. And I don’t know how to get any of it back.”
Charlotte reached for his hand and touched it gently. “We’re going to help each other pull it together again,” she said. “It’s a long process. Maybe it’s naive, but I think rebuilding the White Oak Lodge and opening it next year will be healing for all of us.” She wet her lips. “Do you want to go see it?”
Jack was surprised. It was maybe an hour before nightfall, and a soft, cold rain speckled the windowpanes. But Charlotte was already on her feet, pulling her thick coat over her shoulders. Jack followed her lead, just as he’d done back in their twenties. Right now, because she knew his story, he felt closer to her than he felt to anyone.
They got into Charlotte’s car and drove the familiar route to the White Oak Lodge. Radiohead was on the radio, and Charlotte and Jack sang quietly before throwing themselves into the chorus. Jack laughed, surprised that they both still knew all the words. It had been ages since he’d heard the song. But when it cut out for a commercial break, Charlotte turned down the volume until the car was completely quiet.
“I think you should know about Mom,” she said. “Maybe I should wait so she can tell you herself. But I don’t know. I don’t feel right about keeping it from you. I’m so done with all these secrets.”
Jack felt a sickly chill come over him, one not unlike his illness in the hotel room in Mexico. He knew before Charlotte said it aloud that it was cancer. Somehow, a part of him had known ever since he’d seen Francesca on-screen at the bar in Mexico City. She hadn’t looked well. He listened as Charlotte explained the current strategy—the chemo Francesca was slated for and how they planned to support her. She also mentioned that Francesca had hidden it from all of them, maybe becauseshe’d wanted the family to get back together again before she could admit everything to herself. “Mama has always been a mystery to me,” she finished.
Jack was speechless and brokenhearted. He couldn’t believe that his strong, formidable mother had cancer. She’d always seemed like the sort of woman who wouldn’t accept that kind of thing. But an illness like that didn’t care who you were when it came for you.
When the White Oak Lodge came into view, Jack gasped with surprise. Although he’d seen it on television, nothing could have prepared him for this next iteration of the lodge and all the work his family had done to refurbish it. Collapsing out of the passenger side, he walked tentatively to the front porch, which still needed fresh paint but was well on its way to being fully in operation. He slid his hand down the railing.
As a game unto himself, Jack thought back to when he’d been seventeen, when his father had done everything in his power to keep Jack out of prison. But if Jack had gone to jail—as a minor, probably, although he wasn’t always sure about every element of the legal system—he would likely have gotten out by now. He would have been able to rejoin his family. He would have had a completely different life. Regret banged through him. But it wasn’t like any of that had been in his control.
And then, the front door screamed open to bring a pack of strangers outside. They were all in their forties and fifties and dressed in hard hats and corduroys, and they spoke all at once, interrupting each other, as though they’d spent the day frustrated. They seemed intelligent and also sure that they were smarter than their peers. It took Jack a second to realize they were talking about the Whitmore treasure, where it had come from, and what it all meant.
Coming up behind them was a woman in her late thirties with dark hair down her shoulders and a beautiful, if nervous,smile. Jack would have recognized that face anywhere. It was Nina, his youngest sister and the one who’d been sent to live with their Great-Aunt Genevieve after the fire. This, Jack knew, was because Nina’s mother was someone else, Chloe Essex, and Francesca hadn’t been willing to raise the girl after Benjamin was gone. Jack’s heart went out to her. He felt frozen and speechless.
“Jack?” Nina had stopped following the other scientists and stood, gaping at him. A frigid wind blustered between them.
Jack took a small step toward her. But Nina burst with energy and leaped to hug him. She was stronger than he’d bargained for, and he nearly fell down. Too surprised to do anything else, Jack laughed till tears filled his eyes.
“It worked. Francesca’s call,” Nina whispered, squeezing him harder. “I can’t believe you came back.”
Charlotte walked over to meet them, her arms crossed as she watched the scientists discussing the tunnels beneath the lodge and the hope for more treasure within.
“Friends of yours, Nina?” Charlotte asked.
Nina groaned. “They’re friends with my ex-husband. Daniel obviously isn’t welcome here at the lodge, not now, so he sent some of his cronies in to check things out. I assured them that there’s nothing else beneath the lodge, but they’re committed to finding that out for themselves.”
“Daniel must be losing his mind,” Charlotte affirmed.
Jack’s head rang with questions. It was hard for him to fathom that Nina had grown up and gotten married, let alone become a full professional person.
Nina went over to the other anthropologists to tell them that she needed them off the property for now. Charlotte hung back with Jack and murmured, “I’m sorry. I didn’t think anyone else was here today.”