Claire,
I know you will find this because you love peppercorns more than anyone I know. But I don’t know when you will get to the bottom of the jar. So forgive me for choosing this curious way of communicating with you. A lot of bad things are happening. I want you to be safe--no one but you would look amongst the Special Extra Bold Indian Black…
I’m going to see Max tonight in hopes that he can sort things out. I don’t want to involve you, so the less you know the better. Let’s just say that there is something strange afoot at the Institute. Unless I resolve the—situation--I will have to leave for awhile. If you don’t hear from me within the week, meet me for coffee on the day you tumbled into my arms—you know the one—in the place you love the best.
In the meantime, be careful. Not everyone wishes you well, sadly, because you’re my wife. I could name names, but at this point, I’m not sure myself.
There’s a file on my computer at the Institute. I’ll try to remove it, but if I don’t, well, it’s up to you. You know the one, but I’ve changed the name. My old uncle passed there while enroute to his new post in China.
As I write this, you’re sleeping and the firelight is flickering across your shoulder blades. Your hair is the color of Balas rubies. I want to kiss you goodbye, but it’s better that you not wake.
I’ve never loved you more.
M.
Editor's Note: To see how Claire came to read Marco's message, go to her previous post, Claire Takes a Bath, and Finds a Forgotten Clue.