Makayla, having come to the window, watched with me as he made his way into the park and disappeared beyond the fountain.
“Now there’s a man you might want to investigate,” she said.
I looked at her incredulously. “Franklin? Why?”
“That man carries a secret like a Hollywood starlet toting a dog in a Chanel bag. Every day he heads out at lunchtime and is gone for exactly forty-five minutes. And he never reveals anything personal about himself, no matter what I ask him.” She shook her head. “He looks over his shoulder too much, just like he did today.”
I was bewildered. Franklin seemed like such a sweet, ordinary guy.
“Girl, you’re gonna have to hand that over to the police.” Makayla gestured at Marlette’s journal, which was sticking out from inside my bag.
“I know.” I clutched the straps tightly. “But you said yourself they’re not going to spend much time on Marlette’s murder. It seems a shame for them to have it and then just file it away.”
“So make a copy for yourself. You’ve still got a few minutes before you get back to the grind, right?”
“Smart and gorgeous,” I told her, waving good-bye.
The first thing I did when I got back upstairs was to follow Makayla’s advice by making a photocopy of Marlette’s journal. I stapled the pages together and stuck the bundle in the bottom of my bag. The original went into a large brown envelope with Sean Griffiths’s name on the front.
I left the door to my office open, hoping to catch Franklin when he returned from lunch so I could casually ask him where he’d been. In the meantime, I dialed the cell phone number on Sean’s card. Unfortunately, I only got through to voicemail.
Just as I was leaving a message, Franklin walked past without a glance in my direction. Shoot. A missed opportunity.
The rest of the afternoon flew by. I managed to get through both proposals and a good chunk of the email queries. I now had three letters in the possibilities folder, but I decided to give them a second read in the morning before passing them on to the appropriate agents.
Satisfied with a good day’s work, I tidied my desk and prepared to leave. Flora popped her head in my open door on her way out.
“Toodle-loo, my dear. I hope you had a productive day.”
“I did, thanks.” I slung my bag over my shoulder and walked with her. “Did you have a chance to follow up on that query?”
“Indeed, I did. The author and I are having an email conversation.” She smiled. “She was thrilled to hear from me and responded to my email within seconds. She is very receptive to my recommendations. I just love it when an author understands the need for flexibility.”
I held the door open for her. “Well, it was kind of you to spend extra time on it.”
“Oh, I think something good might come out of this.” She touched my arm. “Thanks to you.”
Basking in her praise, I watched Flora walk to the parking lot. Her vehemence this morning about the homeless seemed so contradictory to this round, kind lady to whom I just wished a good night.
Unbidden, three words popped into my head. Purple martin house. I suddenly remembered our conversation from this morning and what she’d said about Marlette, that he’d put bits of paper in the purple martin house at the children’s park. Right then I decided to take a detour on my way home. I had just enough time to make a quick stop at the park before my Monday evening appointments. But I didn’t want to sleuth alone, so I dashed back to Espresso Yourself to find Makayla locking up for the night.
“Would you like to do some investigating with me?” I asked her.
She grinned. “Free as a bird. What are we doing? Breaking into a bank vault? Getting our hands on secret files?” Glancing down at her fuchsia T-shirt and white jeans, she smirked. “I’m not dressed in my best cat burglar outfit.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Neither am I. Fortunately, we’re going to a public place to see if Marlette hid something in plain sight. It won’t take long. Follow me.”
The playground was on Dogwood, north of the town center. It was fairly new with brightly colored wood and plastic climbing equipment set in pea gravel, a flock of bird-shaped spring riders, and swings. Benches surrounded the perimeter, close enough for parents to keep watch.