Jon set his awful coffee aside. "How can I help? What would you like me to do, sir?"
Trewe gathered a small stack of what looked like handwritten notes and handed them to Jon. "Mrs. Butler was receiving these, each with a handful of wildflowers, on a regular basis. We need a translation, if you're not doing anything."
Jon gathered the notes. "If this is Gaelic, there are likely books in the library ... local historians ... the Internet."
He glanced up. Trewe was gone.
Most villages and smaller towns had only a mobile library, but the village of Perrin's Point had a library. Unlike the Tudor Revival architecture of most of the rest of the village, the library was a square of yellow brick and few windows, and ugly as a bald goose.
As he made his way down a narrow alleyway to the build
