Stubborn and in Love (Book Three)

25.

Melody's POV

The next day I spent analyzing the poem over and over again, pacing around the room trying to connect the dots.

Jack wasn't of much service, partly because this was designed for me to figure out, and partly because he kept nipping at my neck trying to get me back into bed.

His lips ran over me endlessly, rendering my senses useless.

"Jack, I'm really trying to focus here."

"Mhm, that's nice."

"I'm serious. We only have two more days before we leave London, and one of those is going to be spent at the wedding. We haven't got much time."

"Maybe...you should give up...and come back to bed..."

I sighed into his kisses, he always knew where I needed them most.

"Jack, we really shouldn't..."

"Fine, if we must wait. I'm heading out for a walk, you should take a break too."

"I promise, just a few minutes longer."

"Sorry I couldn't be much help," he said while grabbing his jacket.

"You never are."

He flashed a bright smile, left a kiss on my forehead, and headed out the door.

I counted to ten to make sure he was gone, then with a quick reach into the bottom drawer of the desk, I pulled out my pocket planner from its hiding spot.

I counted, I counted it again, and then I counted it one more time just to be sure.

My head spun, causing me to lean back into my chair.

Things just never seem to get less complicated.

Jack's POV

Okay, so I told Melody a little white lie.

I wasn't really going for a nice stroll around the gardens, I had bigger fish to fry than that.

I had a hunch, and Chief Dooley would be turning in his grave if he knew I didn't follow it. I pulled out my small black notebook from my pocket and analyzed my notes.

Subject under suspicion: Mason Sousa.

-Mystery job to pay for schooling and expensive attire

-Spends endless time on the phone

-Prefers blondes

-Leaves Wolf Lodges early and comes back late, no explanation besides 'sightseeing'

I tucked my notes away into my pocket and slumped onto a nearby bench. Was I going crazy? He just seemed like some cocky college kid, but on closer inspection I could tell he was hiding something.

There was no way I could know for sure, unless...No. I couldn't.

Could I?

It was the only way to know for sure. Daniel would kill me if I got caught, but it was a risk I was willing to take.

I checked with the front desk and found Mason's room number. Before heading down the long corridor to his suite, I peeked my head around the bend to make sure I was alone.

I'd made sure to snag Melody's lock picking kit when I left this morning and removed them from my pocket. A minute later the door opened with a loud pop and allowed me to venture inside.

His room was dark, the air saturated with the smell of booze and cigarettes.

He'd turned the respectable room into a fraternity house just in a couple of days. For someone who dressed so well I couldn't believe he didn't take better care of his items.

I didn't know which pile of clothes or shuffle of papers to look through first, so I chose one corner of the room and worked my way around.

Nothing of interest from what I managed to uncover, just some crinkled shirts and newspapers littered on the desk.

I finally gave up looking and was headed out the door when my foot hit a small box on the ground, sending it skidding across the wood.

The box felt smooth on my rough hands, and it was neatly tied with a piece of twine.

With one pull of the string it came undone, revealing the contents of the box. Inside were a bunch of letters on silky letterstock.

One read, "Getting on a boat soon, just a few loose ends to tie up here. Yours, S."

So this was what Mason was hiding? A silly school relationship? The rest of the notes were filled with gushing compliments and lovesick contemplations.

Always the letters were signed "S".

Carefully I tucked the stack back into the box, tied the twine again, and slid it back onto the floor. I doubt he would notice they were touched considering the state of his other belongings.

Who was the woman, and why was she trying so hard to hide her identity?