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minutes in Bates Hall.
     
    When it arrived, I noticed how it looked exactly like the copy H had placed in the safe deposit box. Yep, this is the one. It was truly ancient, with an old brown leather cover with gold-embossed letters.
     
    As I opened it, I swear it was going to fall apart. Gently, I thumbed the pages and there was the name. Horace Willoughby. I turned to the beginning and began reading.
     
     
    CHAPTER ONE
     
    In the time of Spanish rule, as so had been the prevalent manner for several score, the town of Pinzon—the botanical splendor of the orange gardens deems to the visitor a sense of its ancient heritage—had never been with an eye toward commerce more significant than a coastal way station with a somewhat productive local mining and fishing reputation. The formidable deep-sea masts of the conquistadores that, needing a strong wind to travel, would sit motionless, where a vessel of today's invention forged on clipper lines launches forward by only a slight pick-up gale on her sails, had been kept away from Pinzon by the lush tranquility of its enormous shoreline.
     
    Oh God, this is torture already. Nikki was right.
     
    I wish I had ingested more coffee. Maybe snagged an Adderall. It's going to be a long afternoon. I took my jacket off and settled in.
     
    By the time five o'clock rolled around, I had a headache and my eyes were crossing. I left the book on the table as you're supposed to do, and I walked over to the Pru Mall to grab something to eat.
     
    Death at Sea is a long, complicated story told in a very confusing way. To sum it up, it's about a rich man named Rowland whose stash of gold is swindled from him by con men. Along comes Horace Willoughby, a young and handsome Englishman whose sole mission is to con the con artists and get the gold back for the rich man's daughter Antonia with whom he's fallen in love.
     
    That's it. Six hundred and thirty-one pages to get that story told. Could have been done in under two hundred. And it could have ended better. In the final scene, Horace Willoughby drowns while trying to save the gold.
     
    (Between you and me, I just skimmed it. Not that I could get through 631 pages in four hours, anyway. Just couldn't get into it. Language was too flowery the way they wrote back in those days.)
     
    So what does it mean? Am I supposed to be Antonia? Is H trying to get back gold for me that was stolen from my father? My father never had any gold, trust me. At least not my adoptive father. I have no idea who my biological father was.
     
    So let's say my biological father had gold stolen from him and H is trying to get it back for me. If so, why? Is he in love with me? That's ridiculous. He doesn't even know me.
     
    At the Pru Mall Food Court, I walked up to Pizzeria Regina. I ordered a slice of pizza and a Sprite. I think I made it just in time. My stomach was rumbling.
     
    I sat at one of the tables looking out over the little courtyard next to the Hynes. Spring was in full swing. People were everywhere. I took a bite of my pizza but didn't get to swallow it.
     
    I froze and my heart skipped a beat.
     
    Red Crew-Cut is sitting at a table here in the food court.
     
    I broke into a cold sweat.
     
    There he is. Definitely him. Sitting down facing perpendicular from me at a table across the way, eating something.
     
    Fuck.
     
    The world turned spotty all around me. The big food court seemed to tilt. I put down the slice of pizza in my right hand, then slowly grabbed my jacket and purse while standing up all in one motion.
     
    I kept my eye on Red Crew-Cut as I moved sideways to the nearest exit that opens to the outdoor steps that lead down to Boylston Street.
     
    I made it to the door just as he turned around and saw me. His eyes held mine for a split second. Fear shot through me. Adrenaline pumping now, I backed out the door and ran down the steps past the statue out onto the street.
     
    There were three cabs waiting outside the Hynes. I yanked the