I did a lot of killing when I was in the Marines, he thought. “Always been a big reader,” he said, “ever since I was a kid.”

“In Georgia, right? Do you still have family there?”

“My folks are there.” He supposed he could tell her about what had happened back in Atlanta, and what had set him on this path, but he hated that story. The only part he liked was that he now had Dorothy, the best kid in the world.

Natalie’s phone pinged, and she glanced at it. “Hey, that vase we found? My friend Tess is coming in the morning to talk about it.”

“Cool. Good news, I hope.”

“We’ll see.”

When Tess arrived to talk about the old Chinese vase, Natalie was still floating from her meeting with Trevor. She told her friend about it over coffee and sweet rolls, which had become the most popular addition to the shop’s inventory.

“I still can’t believe it,” she said to Tess. “He showed up out of the blue—out of a navy blue Tesla, actually—and introduced himself, and the next thing I knew, we were organizing a book event. This amazing opportunity just dropped in my lap. It’s almost too easy.”

“Too easy?” Tess cocked her head. “Since when do we complain about something being too easy?”

“I’m not complaining, just not used to it. The way my luck runs, I get suspicious when something seems too good to be true.”

“The way your luck runs, you’re due for something wonderful to happen. Maybe this is it.”

“I hope you’re right. Because this is pretty darn wonderful. He’s wonderful.”

“My kids love his books. I do, too, come to think of it. He’s incredibly clever. Funny, but there’s always a deeper message in the books. Let me know when you have all the details. I want to bring the kids down for the big book signing.” Her gaze softened and turned out the window. “My mom is in Morocco, so we’ll stay at her place in the Embarcadero.”

“Your mom went to Morocco?”

Tess nodded. “Tangier. She’s … this is going to sound ridiculous, but she went to reconnect with my father.”

Natalie frowned. “Seriously?” From what Tess had told her about the situation, Erik Johansen was a scoundrel of the first order.

“That was what I said to my mom.” Tess smoothed her hand lightly over her stomach. “I’m trying not to judge. Could be he had his reasons for making himself disappear and leaving two pregnant women behind.”

“Jesus. Go ahead and judge,” said Natalie.

“Right?”

“Every family has its secrets, I suppose.” Natalie showed Tess the picture of Julio Harper, the Buffalo Soldier in the Spanish-American War. “My grandfather’s grandfather. We found out through the owner of that Dewey Medal. It wasn’t really a secret—but definitely a surprise.”

“That’s amazing. Your granddad never knew?”