“Wow.” Journey didn’t tell Myra that Reno had already told her some of this information. “So, we’re protecting the legend and lore of Lincoln’s memory.” She didn’t think preserving a lie was worth giving up so much money. “Although, I guess if the truth were known, it might not be worth what they think.”
Myra pooh-poohed that idea. “I don’t think it would matter. Abraham Lincoln wrote the letter and that would be the only important thing to most people. The reason we’re still hanging onto it is pride. The men in our family would rather possess a piece of history than the money.
Journey didn’t really care. “What about Reno?”
Myra didn’t say anything for a few minutes. “I can’t say stranger things have happened…but I believe you. You were always hard-headed. Always did exactly what you set out to do whether it was good for you or not. I think you wanted this man so much that he didn’t have a choice but to come to you.”
“I think you’re giving me too much credit, Aunt Myra.”
“Well, tell him not to leave until I get there. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
“When do you think you’ll come?”
“I’m not sure. All depends on what the nurse says at his next check-up.”
“Okay. I love you. Bye.”
When she hung up the phone, Journey sank into Reno’s arms exhausted. “That was awkward.”
Reno laughed. “She had to know sooner or later. When we get ready to go back, you wouldn’t want to just leave her a note.”
“No, I guess not.” Journey giggled. “Wow, what were you doing before that fiasco?”
“Digging in my saddlebags. I found the lawyer’s calling card.”
Taking the rectangular paper from him, she read the inscription, “Kenneth Wallace, Esquire. Attorney at Law. Washington D.C.” Journey turned it over in her hand. “Looks almost new.” She grinned at his bored expression. “Ah, the joke’s getting old. Okay, let me see what I can find.”
They went to the sunroom where she’d left her laptop. While Journey surfed the internet in search of anything on Mr. Wallace or his descendants, Reno opened various essential oils to check their smell. “Huh. I like this one.” He sniffed again, then read the label. “Jasmine.”
Journey looked up briefly from the keyboard. “Oh, I’ve should’ve known. That’s an aphrodisiac.”
“Do tell.” He took another big whiff.
“Hey.” She gave his arm a playful whack. “Be careful. I don’t think you need too much inspiration.”
He penned her with this incredibly sexy smile. “You’re right. All the inspiration I need is you.”
She felt the blush rise on her cheeks. “Stop it. You’ll get me all worked up and I need to concentrate.” Journey tapped a few more keys, then whistled. “I think I found something.”
“What?” He abandoned the oil collection to roll his chair nearer to her. “Kenneth Wallace, Attorney at Law. The firm is Wallace, Rice, Fields, and Abercrombie. Serving the greater D. C. region since 1859.”
“What do you want to bet this Kenneth is a great-great-whatever of the original Kenneth?”
“Fingers-crossed.” He held up his hand with two fingers entwined. “Send him an email.”
“I am doing that…now.” She opened the box. “What do you want me to say.”
“Tell him about the journal and that you’re a descendant of Saul’s. Say that he’s mentioned in the journal as Cole Black’s attorney-of-record and that you have some questions about the trial.”
“Good.” She did as he asked. “If he’s the right guy, let’s hope they kept all their old files. What do you hope to find out? A clue about the drummer boy’s identity?”
“Yes. If I can find out the boy’s name and place of birth, I can have a head-start on locating him as soon as I go back. Also, I’d like to know if they uncovered any evidence I might could follow up on. Anything to help me prove Cole’s innocence.”
“All right.” She added a couple more lines. “Any available files on evidence that we could view.” She hit one more key. “Done! We’ll just have to wait and see what happens.”
“Great.” He stretched out his long legs to cross the cowboy boots he wore at the ankle. “What else can we do?”
“You tell me. Lou is working her magic, there’s not anything we can do in that area – unless you want to ride back to the canyon to see if anything will happen.”
Reno didn’t discount her suggestion. “I’d rather go when it’s dark. I guess because it was night when I came.”
“I understand, we’ll go a little later.” Journey reached in front of him to grab the roller bottles and blank labels that she’d left undone earlier. “All of those stories and statistics that Lou shared with us, they made me think. Undoubtedly if this happened to you, something similar happened to a few of those thousands of missing she was talking about.” She met his gaze with a questioning look on her face. “I just wonder where they went?”
“I don’t know. Hopefully when Lou comes back, she’ll have some answers and good news for us. Reno stood to move closer, watching her write on the labels in her version of calligraphy. “That looks nice.”
“Thanks.” She patted a box of her oils. “When we figure how this works, I want to take some of my oils with us. So many of them are antibacterial, antifungal, and antiviral. I know medicine is hard to come by where you’re from, it’ll help to have something with me to fall back on.”
“Good idea.” He couldn’t help but look forward to taking her
