Page 31 of Sins of Leo

“I thought you implied you’d found something. So far all I’m hearing is a whole bunch of dead ends.”

“I wasn’t done. Since the doorway itself proved to be a bust, I focused next on the foliage. And that’s where I finally hit pay dirt.” A second screen lit up with a flowering plant. “Say hello to the passion fruit vine, a plant native to South America.”

“Isn’t it grown elsewhere too?”

“Yes, but given its need for a warm climate, that eliminates many countries. Canada, most of the U.S., Russia, parts of Europe. But here’s the thing, those who grow it outside of South America do so in a garden. I doubt this door is hanging around someone’s backyard.”

“South America is a big place.”

“It is, and my next clue only narrows it down slightly.” Aquarius zoomed in on a section that displayed a flower different from that sprouting on the vine. “If I’m correct, this bloom is a Blue Chilean Crocus, native to Chile, and quite rare to find in the wild.”

“So the door’s in Chile.”

“If the drawing is accurate, then that would be my guess, yes.”

Leo paused in his picture-taking to remark, “Lots of jungles in Chile.”

“There are.”

“Any way of pinpointing which one I should be searching?”

“No, but if your lady friend’s father sent this to her, then she might know where he was situated. Unfortunately, I’ve run into a dead end trying to find out his last known location.”

“How hard can it be? Check the newspapers. Ruth says he went missing, so surely there was mention of it.”

“Not that I’ve found. You’re talking about something that happened like twenty years ago. Could be there was mention at the time, but as media companies go bust or restructure, articles and archives do get lost.”

“Or scrubbed,” Leo suggested.

“Also a possibility. Given the sudden interest in the image and journal, could be someone actively removed all mention of Dr. Octavius Warmstone.”

Leo glanced at the looping handwriting in the journal and grimaced. “Meaning we’d better hope this book tells us where he went. Can you have your program flag pages that mention Chile or a door so we can focus on those?”

“I can, but you could also ask your lady friend. She might recall the name of the location her father was last seen alive.”

“I doubt it. She was just a kid at the time.”

“Can’t hurt to ask.”

Aquarius had obviously never met the stubborn Ruth.

“I’ll see if she remembers anything.” But not right that minute.

While Aquarius took over the manual scanning of the journal, Leo hit the gym. Five hundred squats, three hundredchest presses, and a whole lot of running on a treadmill later, he felt exhausted enough to deal with Ruth.

Until he walked into his apartment and some yummy scents hit his nose. Freshly baked bread. Something hinting of meat and spice that made his taste buds water. But what really recharged his spent body? Seeing her with her flour-smudged face, flushed cheeks, and welcoming smile. He went instantly hard and, to cover his shock, blurted out, “What smells so fucking good?”

CHAPTER 9

At Leo’s exclamation,a humble Ruth muttered, “It’s just stew and bread.”

“Hope you made enough for two, because I am famished.”

“Have a seat then, as I made plenty.” She turned from him, oddly tickled by his eagerness.

Ruth usually only cooked for herself, as she rarely invited people over, not because she hated folks but because her small circle of friends, most made while in college, had dwindled. As her friends married and started families, their gatherings had gone from a few times a month to a couple times a year to almost nothing. It didn’t bother her much. She knew how to entertain herself; visiting outdoor markets, going to plays, reading and movie-watching. However, seeing Leo’s eager face as he sat at the table that had appeared with a pair of chairs—Tower’s doing while she had her back turned—made her flush with pleasure.

How long since someone complimented her efforts? How long since she’d dined with someone other than an actor on television?

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