Page 85 of Finding Yesterday

He squeezes mine back, holding it for a bit. Meeting my eyes, he says, “I’m glad you’re here in Blue Vine, honey.”

“I’m glad too.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

I’M IN DEEPcleaning mode at The Fine Bone. Since I’m closing the place, everything has to be put away and properly stored. The nice part about the restaurant being closed—the only nice part—is that Winston can be here with me while I work.

Besides cleaning, I’m also checking the traps the rodent control company set up. I hate them, but they’re a necessary evil. As Jack suspected, there was more than one mouse getting in, and that’s because there’s a crack in the foundation of the empty space behind the shelf.

So, one of the jobs I didn’t do last week was check it to see if we have any new friends. I’m guessing we don’t, but after everything that’s happened, I’m not taking a risk with guessing.

I flip the latches, and the shelf separates from the wall. After rotating it open, I flash a flood light into the space. Winston comes waddling over, I’m sure because he thinks there’s a pot of food at the end of this dark and musty rainbow.

“What’s the word, Mr. Winston? Smell any mice?”

He heads to the corner of the bottom shelf, snorting as he stuffs his snout deep into it.

“What’d you find, buddy?” I get down on my hands and knees to look, but I have to slide Winston away to see anything.

After flashing the light in the corner, I’m relieved to see that there have been no new mice. That means the measures the pest company took are working.

But thereisa hole in the wall, and now there’s dirt scattered across the shelf from Winston poking his snout in it.

After I bring the light closer, something glistens, so I reach in and grab it.

I’ll be damned. It’s another one of those cabinet knobs made from a ruby from the mine. When I brush the dirt away, I realize that it’s identical to the other one we found.

My mind racing, I have a thought.

It’s time to pay Edna a visit at the county records office.

Thanks, Mr. Winston.

* * *

EVERYTHING HERE ISthe same. Antique desks, worn marble flooring, high ceilings with pillars, and papers neatly stacked. It’s perfect.

“Hello, Ms. Edna.” I enter the foyer. I can’t imagine this place without her—she’s worked in this office since I can remember. She was so helpful to me as a teenager—theonlyteenager ever to come here, I bet.

“Well, good morning, Claire!” She smiles brightly. “I’m so glad to see you made it, I’ve missed helping you.”

Standing in front of her desk, I say, “And I’ve missed being here with you.” I look up, thinking about the last time. It was when I was doing research for a college paper on the history of downtown Blue Vine. “I’m looking for the old train station’s blueprints again. Can you help me?”

“Of course, dear. Finding things is much easier now.” She pats her graying, tight bun of hair. After several clicks of the computer, she says, “Those records haven’t been digitalized, so you’ll still have to go through the paper copies. They’re in the basement, section three, aisle twelve, row seven.” She scribbles on a card and hands it to me.

I take it. “Thanks so much, Ms. Edna.”

“Sure. Looking for anything in particular?”

“I’m wondering if the train station has anything to do with why Mama and Ms. Hannah went into the mine that day. It’s a long shot, but why not?” I give her a sigh and a shrug before turning to leave.

“Oh, Claire, now that you say that, there’s something I remember,” she calls out. After I turn back, she continues, “About your Mama. She came here looking for those blueprints too.”

My heart leaps in my chest. “Oh, wow, thatishelpful. Thank you.” I disappear down the hall and to the elevator. So, Mamawasplanning something that had to do with the old train station. If it was just a remodel of Hannah’s restaurant, like Jack said, why would Mama want the old station’s plans?

Down here isn’t pretty like it is upstairs. There are no windows, just rows of shelves and worn carpet. The smell of old papers hits my nose as I beeline it to exactly where I need to be. I know this floor well—I spent hours upon hours going through stacks of folders here.

I start in the Graham County laws section, making copies of whatever I find. I’m compiling a book for myself to study tonight.

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