OUTSIDE DR. STEPHENS’S office, his second visit on his list, Rath checked his messages as he processed what he’d learned. His phone showed no messages from Langevine. He called again. The receptionist had a young girl’s voice, jittery and apologetic. “I don’t know why he hasn’t called. I gave him the messages. I’m sure he will.”
Rath ended his call, and his cell phone buzzed immediately. He picked up.
“Both my girls were pregnant,” Grout said.
“Five to seven weeks along?”
“So, yours too,” Grout said. “That makes two in Vermont: Saint Johnsbury and Montpelier; and two across the river: in Littleton and Concord.”
“We don’t know if Mandy was.”
“All these girls though. And all called a Family Matters? I’ll see if Sonja’s gotten anywhere with lists,” Grout said.
Rath hung up, staring out the windshield into the dark night, feeling hopeful. He brought Rachel’s text up on his phone to buoy him.
I’m sorry to be so lame. I’ve just been swamped. I’ll call you soon. I promise. Love you, Rachel
A nagging feeling overcame him again. There was—
His cell buzzed: Dr. Langevine.
Rath answered. “Yes.”
“Mr. Rath. My sincerest apologies in not getting back in a timely manner. It’s been quite the day. I understand you wish to speak to me about something rather pressing.”
“Right away. It’s Ms. Wilks. In person would be best. Right away. Where do you live?”
“I’m the last place at the end of Ravens Way, but I’m in my office. A hike for you.”
“I’m on my way,” Rath said.
Ravens Way, Rath thought as he drove. It was a private community atop Canaan Ridge, the only one of its kind in the Kingdom, and hopefully the last. Against militant local protest, six 20-acre plots had been clear-cut to make room for custom homes ten times the size of the average local home. Granite countertops, heated indoor pools, tennis courts, wine cellars, and lanais had replaced wintering deeryards and a wetland that had included trophy brook trout beaver ponds. Swaths of forest had been leveled to afford the homes an emperor’s view of the valley. The folks below who had looked up at the ridge for generations to witness the year’s first snow or turning of the leaves now were treated to a view of gargantuan trophy homes dropped into treeless voids, two-story windows reflecting glints of sunlight in an obnoxious wink. Dr. Langevine’s place, at the end of the road, likely commanded the grandest view. Rath was glad he did not have to stomach a visit to the place.