“I can’t help it.” Shelly laughed and swatted Ivy’s shoulder. “Is that so bad?”
“I hate to say it, but I hope you never lose that.” Ivy meant it, though she still poked her sister. “Come on. We might as well face whatever it is.” She gestured for them to follow.
Ivy turned back to the grand old structure, scrutinizing it for any visible signs of disaster. Unable to contain herself, she burst through the front door, her heart hammering against her ribs again. “Reed?” she called out, her voice echoing through the foyer.
“In your office.”
Ivy rushed down the hallway toward the library where they worked. The others were close behind.
Wearing jeans and work boots, Reed stood in front of her desk, his usually calm demeanor heightened with anticipation. He held something in his hand.
She rushed forward. “What is it?”
Reed held up an old slip of paper, yellowed with age and torn at the top. For a moment, his attention was drawn to Libby, and he smiled at her before continuing.
“Hope you don’t mind my snooping around in here, Aunt Ivy. I had to see if this lined up.” He aligned what he’d found below the paper she’d tacked to the corkboard until the torn edges meshed.
“They fit,” she said, even more curious now.A perfect match.
“Like Cinderella’s shoe,” Shelly added in awe. “What does it say?”
Reed handed the paper to Ivy. “You should read it.”
She took the paper from him with trembling fingers. Reaching for the reading glasses on her desk, she cleared her throat, preparing to read the faded fountain pen script. “Itsays, ‘Funds on deposit for the Summer Beach Library and Art Museum.’”
Her breath caught. “Oh, my goodness,” she whispered.That string of numbers.She looked up to those surrounding her. “This is proof that, once upon a time anyway, funds were designated for Amelia’s vision.”
Shelly’s eyes widened. “Could they still be there?”
“Highly doubtful.” Ivy smiled wistfully, her chest warming at the thought. “That was such a long time ago. I don’t know why this makes me so satisfied, but it does. It confirms another dream of Amelia’s that I want to fulfill.”
She lowered the paper. Not justwantto fulfill; no, she felt utterly compelled to. Perhaps by the presence that still lingered here.
Not that she would admit that, especially to Shelly.
Poppy dipped her chin. “That’s because Amelia Erickson had noble ideas for this area she loved.”
Libby spoke up, her eyes flashing with excitement. “This aligns with her quote from that article I found.”
Ivy nodded slowly, recalling her conversation with Nan and Arthur weeks ago. Twice confirmed now. Three times if she counted their discovery.
There was no doubt in her mind. Though decades in the process, Summer Beach would have its library someday.
Amelia Erickson would see to that.
And so would Ivy.
17
Bennett squinted against the bright sunlight as he lined up his putt. The eighteenth hole of the Summer Beach Municipal Golf Course lay before him, a deceptively simple-looking par three hole. The Pacific Ocean created a stunning backdrop beyond the green that rivaled the exclusive Torrey Pines golf course south of them. A breeze carried the scent of salt water and freshly cut grass, rippling the sleeves of his polo shirt.
“Don’t choke now, Mr. Mayor,” Clark Clarkson called out, his booming voice tinged with friendly mockery. “Your entire political career could hinge on this twelve-footer.”
Bennett shot the police chief a wry smile. “Thanks for the added pressure, Clark. Just what I needed.”
He took a deep breath, steadied himself, and swung. The ball rolled smoothly across the green, curving slightly with the contour before dropping satisfyingly into the cup.
Bennett executed a quick bow. “And that, gentlemen, is how it’s done.”
