Man, he liked making her laugh. Which was trouble. All of this—the way the computer screen cast a soft glow over Elisa’s features, the way her eyes sparkled as she leaned in close to hear his whisper—was so much trouble.
Elisa nodded to the computer, seemingly oblivious to his churning thoughts. “So these are the online records, right? Don’t we need the actual property books for the next clue?”
“If Grandpa hid the clue in one of the physical books, like we’re thinking, then yes. But we have to figure out which book to check first—unless you want to start turning random pages.” Noah jerked his head toward the bookshelves on the other side of their cubicle, laden with dusty tomes and spreading the entire width and depth of the room.
Elisa shuddered. “No thanks. If we take that long, Cade might end up in the ER with a stroke.”
“Heard that, too.” Cade paused in the doorway, a dark silhouette in the shadows. “Can we wrap this up? That’d be great.”
“You can’t rush genius, sugar.” Elisa flashed a grin and Cade smiled back before resuming his pacing.
Noah was going to owe the clerk of court a new mouse. “Where were we?”
He knew where he still was, personally. Back at the library courtyard, leaning in for a kiss a decade in the making before Elisa had to go and figure out the next clue so fast. Couldn’t her brilliance have waited about five more seconds? Not that five seconds would have been enough. It hadn’t been when he was eighteen, and he was fairly certain nothing had changed in the last twelve years.
But maybe sneaking in even five seconds of a kiss would have stopped her subsequent declaration of not needing one at all.
“We decided we weren’t turning random pages.” She tossed back her hair, and her honey vanilla scent provided relief from the competing odor of musty books, old carpet, and the faint remains of air freshener. “So, wheredowe start?”
“I’m thinking with instrument numbers, which is the number assigned to an individual record.”
“What kind of record?” Elisa asked.
“Well, here, there will be records for civil suits, property deeds, mineral deeds, gas contracts, and so on. But everything is also cross-filed via book and page.” Noah opened the search bar and pulled up a conveyance record, attempting to remember how his job worked and not the way Elisa’s warmth penetrated his right side. “See how they’re formatted? Newer instrument numbers are usually seven digits, but older documents will have much shorter instrument numbers.”
She leaned closer to the monitor. “Goodness gracious.”
“Yeah. It’s a lot. And on top of that, book and pages could be any combination of length of numbers depending on what year it was filed. So an older document will have a smaller—or shorter—book number because they go in numerical order.”
She gestured behind them. “So somewhere out there is a Book 1?”
“Somewhere. And as the books get more current, the book numbers obviously get higher. This parish currently has books into the two hundreds. But the page number could be a single digit, double digit, or triple digit.”
“This could take forever.” Elisa’s eyes opened wide.
“Please don’t let it,” Cade called from the hallway.
“Bro, you think there’s a vending machine in the building?” Noah stood and pulled his wallet from his jeans. “Here.”
Cade reappeared in the doorway, eyebrows perked in interest.
“Load up.” He passed Cade a ten dollar bill—probably the last guy on the island who needed it, but Noah would pay a lot more for a few uninterrupted moments. They had to focus, and it was hard enough to do that as it was.
Cade folded the cash, his gaze landing on Elisa. “Want anything?”
“I’m all set. Thanks, though.” She smiled sweetly.
Noah sat back in his chair, landing a little harder than necessary. “Get her some M&Ms.”
Elisa grimaced. “I just can’t eat the blue?—”
“I know. They’re not part of the original color pack.” Noah let his eyes meet hers briefly. “I remember.”
He felt her gaze hover on his profile, but he forced himself to stay focused on the computer as Cade’s footsteps fell away and the lobby door eased open and shut. Finally, they could work.
“How do you remember that?” Elisa’s hushed voice was barely audible despite sitting two feet away from him. “I think I ate M&Ms with you, what? Twice that summer?”
Three times. He swallowed. “I remember a lot of things.” Could replay that entire month of July like a home movie in his mind if he flipped the right switch.
