WHAT LIES BENEATH THE GRAVESTONE

Chapter 17: The note

Grant's entrance into the Golden Hour Café was like a whispered secret, a subtle disturbance that rippled through the atmosphere, drawing the attention of all who dwelled within its warm, golden confines. Adela, upon spotting him, let out a soft, incredulous "Grant?" The name was a breath meant only for her and Jamie, a private whisper shared between old friends, yet it hung in the air like a delicate secret suddenly made vulnerable, exposed to the prying eyes and ears of strangers.

She turned, her movements slow, almost reluctant, as if she were about to face a past she thought she had left behind, like a traveler returning to a long-abandoned home. Her eyes, wide with a mix of surprise and trepidation, locked onto Grant's, a spark of recognition igniting a firestorm of emotions within their depths.

The silence that followed was profound, the kind that speaks louder than any words could, a heavy stillness that hung in the air like a challenge, a gauntlet thrown down by the universe itself. It was in this silence that Grant and Jamie locked eyes, their gaze heavy with unspoken history, a silent dialogue that was felt by everyone in its vicinity, like a palpable force that reverberated through every molecule of air.

With measured steps, Grant closed the distance between himself and Jamie, his movements deliberate, like a chess player making a calculated move. Jamie, intuitively understanding the gravity of the moment, stood up to meet him, his eyes never leaving Grant's, like a ship anchoring itself to a steady shore.

Grant's eyes briefly met Adela's, a storm of frustration and bewilderment passing through them, like a tempest raging across a turbulent sea, before he addressed Jamie, his voice low and even, like a river flowing smoothly over rounded stones. "Let's talk outside," he said, the words a gentle command, a soft summons to a private reckoning."

Adela's response was swift, her tone laced with a haughty edge, like a razor-sharp blade slicing through the tension-filled air. "Hey, Grant. A small favor doesn't give you the license to tail me," she said, her words dripping with disdain, like a slow-moving poison spreading its venom.

Grant's reply came quick, his voice a crescendo of frayed nerves, like a tightly wound spring on the verge of snapping. "What are you rambling about, Adela?" he asked, the question rhetorical, a clear sign of his growing irritation, like a storm cloud gathering on the horizon.

In an attempt to alleviate the tension, Jamie addressed Grant with a composed demeanor, his voice a soothing balm, like a gentle summer breeze on a sweltering day. "What's your reason for being here? And how'd you even know to find us here?" he asked, his words measured, like a diplomat navigating a treacherous minefield.

Grant's response was unwavering, his voice firm, like a rock standing sentinel against the crashing waves. "I knew you two met here before," he said, his eyes locked onto Adela's, like a laser beam pinning its target.

Adela's reaction was immediate, her eyes widening as she processed his words, like a flower blooming in fast motion. "Wait, how did you know about that?" she demanded, her voice a mix of confusion and accusation, like a prosecutor grilling a witness on the stand.

Grant, his patience wearing thin, like a threadbare fabric on the verge of tearing, let out a sigh of frustration, like a valve releasing pent-up steam. "Seriously? You texted him right in front of me," he said, his tone incredulous, like a teacher scolding a wayward student. "And after all that drama that unfolded the last time, I figured you'd steer clear of round two," he added, his words laced with a hint of sarcasm, like a bitter aftertaste lingering on the palate.

Jamie's face transformed from bewilderment to fascination, his eyes alight with a newfound interest, like a spark igniting a flame that would illuminate the dark recesses of a long-forgotten mystery. "The gravestone?" he repeated, his thoughts now racing with the implications of Grant's involvement and the secrets it might unveil, like a puzzle piece falling into place, revealing a hidden pattern.