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FOR NEVER HAVING been inside Big John's office before that morning, Piper seemed to be ending up inside of it more often than she would've guessed. Piper and Kie stood at each side of the desk, bordering John B where he sat at the chair. Kie drove because, from the cemetery to the Château, John B wouldn't take his eyes off the envelope. Still, for as long as Pope and JJ messed around in the kitchen—with food Piper knew, for a fact, was incredibly inedible—, John B couldn't seem to tear his eyes away. The envelope itself was addressed to someone named "Bird", but it was in Big John's jagged handwriting, and John B hadn't seen that, not really, in months. Piper wasn't sure how much she believed—if she truly believed there was a chance Big John was still alive—but this was something concrete, this was something that might help John B grieve and move forward. Piper meant what she said: John B, of all people, deserved closure.
"Mold is good for you. It's just a natural organism," JJ's voice wrapped itself around the walls as it followed Pope to the office.
Kie and Piper both said his name then, but Piper groaned in disgust, and Kie sounded more like a chastising mother.
He jogged over with a moldy sandwich in hand, and Piper physically had to restrain herself from smacking the back of his head while John B ripped the opening strip off of the FedEx package. JJ took a massive bite from the sandwich and gagged into his hand. It was almost like Darwin was right about natural selection.
Piper clapped JJ twice on the back to help him cough back out any crumbs that managed to fall down his throat, and Pope walked toward the desk to examine the map John B was pulling out of the package and unfolding.
"Woah. X marks the spot," Pope said, extending his hand out to point at an 'x' that was marked on the map. In fact, there were multiple markings. There was a drawing of a hurricane heading toward shore, the 'x', and coordinates. Piper, JJ, and Kie crowded around the desk. At twilight, the room only lit by flashlights and lamps, their faces had an eerie sheen.
John B drew his hand across the paper vertically and horizontally, stopping at the 'x' each time and mumbling, "longitude, latitude," for each motion. He tried to flatten the map down on the desk, but something was protruding upward, so John B patted the FedEx package underneath, and pulled it out from under the map. "Wait, there's somethin' else in here."
He pulled out probably the most ancient tape recorder Piper had ever seen.
JJ perplexedly watched John B roll it over in his hand. "What's that?"
"It's a tape recorder, dumbass," Kie answered.
John B pushed the play button on the side of the recorder, and Big John's voice came out of the speaker, tinny and scratchy. "Dear Bird,"
