“You are indeed.”
I don’t know why it surprised me to hear the sincerity in Derek’s voice. I knew he was crazy about my family and Robin, so that wasn’t the issue. Maybe it was because we’d never discussed marriage before. And why would we? We’d only known each other . . . I did the math and felt a little dizzy. We’d been together almost two years. Time had flown by. And when he bought the loft next door to mine and was the one to suggest that we merge the two together, I knew he was committed to me. I suppose I had always assumed that he simply wasn’t interested in marriage. Otherwise, surely he would have proposed to me by now. Although honestly, I’d never given it that much thought. I was perfectly happy with our relationship as it was.
Savannah came out of the kitchen with a bottle of champagne for the table, and we all celebrated the engagement in style. Less than a year ago, Robin, who had been living in San Francisco at the time, was being threatened by some guys in the Russian mafia, so she’d moved up here for a while to be safe. That was when Austin had made it clear that he wanted her to stay. She had. And they’d been living together ever since.
Despite the delicious food, wine, and celebratory atmosphere, we ended the evening early because everyone had plans for the next day.
The next morning, after a breakfast of coffee, scrambled eggs, and bagels, Derek moved to the desk in the family room and began translating the pledge and the note I’d found inside Journey to the Center of the Earth. I opened all the curtains to let the sun pour into the room and then pulled up a chair next to him to see how he was coming along. It took him less than ten minutes to translate what was scrawled in the rust-colored ink over the back flyleaf.
“They were blood brothers,” Derek explained. “Frères du sang.”
“Sang,” I mused. “Like sanguine. Bloodred.”
“Exactly.” He took a sip of coffee and then read what he’d translated. “‘We solemnly pledge this oath in blood to be comrades, friends, defending each other until the day we die. Together we will find the volcano that holds the portal that leads to the center of the earth, and we will share equally all the treasure we find there. So help us God. Signed, Anton Benoit and Jean Pierre Renaud.’”
I smiled. “I figured they were planning a trip to the center of the earth. That was the basis for the pledge.”
“That, and friendship.”
My smile faded as I remembered Guru Bob’s words. “Do you think Anton killed his friend?”
“I have no idea.”
“Jean Pierre’s body was surrounded by treasures of another sort.”
“Yes.” Derek was deep in thought as he perused the page again. “I think a talk with Robson’s cousin Trudy is our best first step in getting to the bottom of what happened to Monsieur Renaud.”
I checked the clock. “She’s probably at church right now, but we could go over there in an hour or so.”
“Good.”
He started to push away from the desk, but I stopped him. “I have one more thing for you to look at.”
He sat down. “Another note in the book?”
I opened the book and pulled out the paper I’d found wedged between the pages.
“Ah, an actual note,” he said, unfolding the piece of paper. “I thought you were referring to something else written in the book.”
“No. This looks like it was written by someone else.”
He stared at the squiggly diagram. A few seconds later, he turned the page on its side, and then flipped it to the other side. “It looks like a map.”
“A map,” I said, gazing at the odd design. “I didn’t think of that. I just saw the list of numbers and words on the side and hoped you’d translate them.”
“I’d be glad to.” He studied it for another minute. “You’re right that it was written by a different person, and I’m fairly certain that person was an adult, not a child.”
“I didn’t spend enough time studying it,” I said, taking the paper from him. I’d taken some handwriting analysis classes to help me with authenticating signatures in books, which was an occasional part of my job.
I handed the note back to Derek. “It’s definitely more mature. I wonder if it was written by one of the two boys, now grown up.”
“If not, the next question is, how did it get into this book?”
“Good question,” I said, frowning.
“These numbers here might indicate distance. Either in meters or footsteps. We won’t know until we try to follow what it says.”
“Where do we start?”
He grinned. “I haven’t gotten that far in the translation. Guess I’d better get busy.”
“Okay, I’ll wash the breakfast dishes while you figure it out.”