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Three more.

“Make a plan.”

I couldn’t breathe. All the blood rushed from my head. “Dad,” I said. “There are hundreds of these if you collate all the letters.”

“It’s a cipher,” he said.

“If Sidney had his copy of the book and the letter writer had one, they could communicate like this. It’s brilliant. He’s using references to page, line, word, or verse. It’s a similar system to quoting from the Bible. It’s the most well-known cipher system there is.”

“Order lunch,” Dad said. “Dinner too. Have it delivered. This could take all night.”

Chapter

Thirty-Two

I know you have every reason to doubt me. But you have to trust someone. I pledge my loyalty to you. Forever. You are my brother. My father. The Holy Ghost. I will follow you anywhere. Do anything you say.

Teach me. I will serve you until the end of my days.

I understand what you’re doing. No one else does. You are an artist.

It is a gift you give these women. One they may not deserve but they are the chosen ones. Your touch is a benediction. A sacrament. They are privileged.

You’re resourceful. One day, if you ever have the chance to find me, I will give you riches beyond your imagination.

You’re not that far from me. Just six hours if you drive here. Let me help you.

Your letter brought me hope. I know you can do what you said. You can find your freedom. I’m at your bidding when you do. Just tell me what you need.

I understand. I will do exactly as you said. Five thousand dollars. The satchel will be at the Coin Laundromat on Victor Drive in Lima. Locker 194. Your code is Seven, Seven, One, Two, Third, Second. Keys inside. Red Civic. Rusted.

It took all night to decipher. Some words used the cipher system alone. Some words were actually written out, like laundromat or others that didn’t actually appear in the text of The Traveler’s Guide. I wasn’t sure I had all of it, but what we had was mind-bending. There was a code within a code in some places. Word groupings that only made sense if you read them phonetically. Know One for no one. Lock her for locker.

After two hours, my father’s mind started to go. It happened more frequently later in the evenings when his medication began to wear off and he got tired. Sundowning, Dr. Ricci warned me.

He slept in his office, I slept in mine, but by six o’clock the next morning, I knew I had an idea of the full scope of the messages our mystery writer sent to Derrek Sidney in jail.

“It’s time,” Dad said. He’d changed into a clean set of clothes he kept in his office drawer for occasions like this. I’d done the same, but my spare wardrobe consisted of yoga pants, a tank top, and a hoodie. Dad also kept enough toiletries to stock a hotel room. His constant practice of pulling all-nighters at the office was one of the things that drove my mother away. Today, it was a godsend.

“Mercy,” Dad said. “We have to call law enforcement. This is real. This is proof that Derrek Sidney had someone helping him when he made his escape. This person is, at the very least, an accessory to murder.”

“I know,” I said. I’d been reluctant to let go of this. Now, I had control. I knew when we brought in authorities, they’d want every scrap of evidence I’d compiled. It would become their case, not mine.

I called Geneva. It went to voicemail. She was probably still asleep. I had no idea what to say in a message, so I just told her to call me as soon as she saw the notification.

“I’m calling Mac,” Dad said. “He’s an early riser. Jurisdiction on this is fuzzy. The threats to Geneva happened here in Helene. The murders themselves were in Down County.”

“Sidney’s escape from custody wasn’t. That was Putnam County, Ohio.”

“We start with Mac,” Dad said. “I trust him.”

“I know. And I trust you.”

Thirty minutes later, Mac Henderson stood over the conference room table and gaped at the array of letters spread all over the table. I’d filled nearly every inch of space on the whiteboard with tiny scrawled words as I deciphered each piece of code. To him, I knew it had to look like a scene from the movie, A Beautiful Mind, with all my charts and notes and arrows running everywhere. Running on pure adrenaline and caffeine, Dad had to remind me to slow down so Mac could keep up.

“This is incredible, Mercy,” Mac finally said.

I pulled out the map we’d marked with all of the postmark locations and chronology. When I pinned it to the wall, it really looked like a bullseye with Helene at the center.