Page 57 of Seabreeze Library

“Must be nice,” Shelly whispered.

Ivy put a finger to her lips. “Shh.”

After a long moment, Viola came on the phone. “Ivy, darling. How lovely to hear from you. It’s been too long, my dear. How is the renovation proceeding?”

“Very well. Thanks to you and your generous friends, thenew Seabreeze Inn will be a centerpiece of the community. The construction crew is jack-hammering the driveway as we speak. I hope you’ll come for the grand reopening.”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” Viola said. “Amelia Erickson would be so pleased with what you’ve done with the place.” She paused. “I know Gustav is, or so he professes.”

Ivy could hear Meredith in the background scolding her. “Aunt Viola, people will think you’re losing your mind if you keep talking about spirits.”

Viola laughed. “Why, that’s the fun of it. Everyone needs a little eccentricity to be interesting. Say hello to Ivy, darling.”

The phone shuffled between them with sounds of buttons inadvertently pressed. “I think it’s on speaker now,” Viola said loudly. “Can you hear me?”

“We hear you,” Ivy said, and Shelly chimed in. They traded pleasantries before Viola asked, “Now that you’re tearing apart the old beach house, have you discovered anything else hidden there?”

Ivy grinned at Shelly. “That’s why I’m calling. We made a discovery recently that’s quite puzzling.” She explained the architectural plans and the possibility of funds on reserve in a dormant bank account.

“I did some investigating,” Ivy continued, her words spilling out. “I learned there are still unclaimed Swiss bank accounts dating from World War II. Even before. Do you or your attorney know if the Erickson estate had any such accounts?”

Viola was quiet for a moment, and Ivy’s heart sank. Then the older woman spoke slowly, as if choosing her words carefully.

“We wouldn’t have been privy to that financial information, my dear. Only as it related to the purchase of the house.” She paused. “That said, I know of a fabulous young attorney who works for a firm that deals in such matters. The firm has helped families locate lost property from that era. Quite remarkable work.”

Ivy’s pulse quickened.

Meredith spoke up. “Aunt Viola is referring to my son Andrew. He works for a law firm in Los Angeles. Recently, he has been assisting clients who are Holocaust survivors and descendants. His team managed to recover bank accounts and artwork stolen many years ago. Swiss banks have very specific procedures. He’ll know what to do.”

“That’s impressive.” Ivy raised her brow at Shelly.

Meredith said, “I’ll put you in touch with him. Expect a call soon.”

“That would be incredible, Meredith. Thank you.” Ivy’s voice tremored with gratitude.

“Our pleasure, dear,” Viola said. “Do keep us posted. How wonderful it would be to see Amelia’s dream for a library and art museum come true.”

After they hung up, Shelly burst into a grin. “Viola came through again. You got this.”

Ivy shook her head as that strange panic set in again. “Not yet.”

Instead of celebrating a premature win, she considered how all this sounded.Money stashed away for decades simply falling into her lap.This was more than a mere slim chance; this bordered on delusional.

Suddenly, she felt more than self-conscious. She felt ashamed. And she prided herself on being practical, except when pushed to desperation, like when she moved into the old beach house.

Shelly stared at her. “What’s wrong with you? A minute ago?—”

Ivy cut her off. “It’s probably nothing more than an old note about an account long closed.”

Shelly’s expression fell. “Just when I thought you had finally embraced the outrageous.”

Ivy’s seagull landed on the railing again, much closer this time, and blinked at her. As it did, a strange sensation rippled through her. She leaned forward, speaking to it. “Maybe you are the spirit of an old mariner, or in this case, a fervent art collector.”

Shelly wrinkled her brow in concern. “You’re talking to birds now?”

Rubbing the back of her neck, Ivy grinned at her, giving in to her sister’s optimism. “Okay, who cares if we’re delusional?”

“That’s right,” Shelly said, brightening. “At least we’re having fun.”

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