Chapter 23

  

Penelope woke the next morning and gave Joey a sleepy hug before getting out of bed. Her throat was dry from staying up late and talking for hours, so she drank a bottle of water while she looked out the window at Festa. Penelope had filled Joey in on everything that had been going on the past few days, while he updated her on how things were going back home.

“Where’d you go?” Joey murmured from under the down comforter.

“I have to get ready for work,” Penelope said, her voice raspy. She got back in bed and slipped under the covers, pressing herself into him. After a few minutes of bonus cuddling, Penelope reluctantly pulled open the drawer on the nightstand and retrieved her phone, sitting up in bed as she read the long list of messages that had come through during the night. The first one at the bottom of the list was from Jennifer. No work today (Monday). Arlena, Jackson, Dakota and I are under the weather. Flu. Please take precautions and stay healthy. Jen.

Clearing her throat, Penelope swallowed, feeling tenderness in her throat and trying to judge if she was also coming down with a bug.

“They’re all sick?” Joey asked, pulling the sheets up comically over his mouth and nose and widening his eyes.

Penelope swatted the sheet away playfully. “Unfortunately, yes. Your stay at the Forrestville Inn must be taken at your own risk.”

A thought coming to her, Penelope grabbed her iPad and searched for the Forrestville Helmsleys, the ones she had come across the previous evening.

“Oh man, this is awful,” Penelope said. “The sheriff prior to Bryson had a heart attack at his desk while looking at underage pornography on a state-owned computer.”

“What a scumbag,” Joey said, playfulness forgotten.

“Yeah, and his son was one of the ones arrested with that Bailey kid for vandalizing cars and trees.” Penelope continued to read through the article. She’d told Joey the night before about her encounters with Bailey.

“Good thing that Helmsley guy is dead,” Joey said. “He wouldn’t have had a fun time in prison. Where’s his kid now?”

Penelope sighed. “Looks like he’s in jail for some other crime in Indianapolis. Attempted robbery and kidnapping. Jeez.” She tilted the screen toward him so he could read along.

“But Bailey is out walking free,” Joey said. “These articles are all from other cities—this one’s from the Chicago paper.”

“I know.” Penelope reached back over to the bedside table and pulled out the thin tabloid she’d picked up in town the day before. “This is the local paper. More like a flyer, mostly ads.”

Joey took it from her and scanned the front page, then leafed through a few pages.

“Do you think you can do me a favor?” Penelope asked. She pulled up the photos on her phone of the missing persons flyers and showed them to him. He sat up and rested the newspaper in his lap on the comforter. “Can you look into these kids, I don’t know, more officially than I can? Particularly Kellie Foster. I think there’s something happening here.”

Joey looked at her, his eagerness to please her dampened by doubt.

“And you think it might tie in with Jordan’s death?”

“Maybe,” Penelope agreed. “The restaurant, the inn, the forest, they’re all so close together, and Jordan was such a big part of the community.”

“I can try, but I’m probably not going to find much more than what’s already known. If they’re registered on the national missing persons list…you’re looking at the info there.”

“No, I don’t mean we should try and find them. Wait, I take that back. I’d actually love to try and find them. I’m really curious about who they are, what they did here in town before they vanished, what they might have had in common. Is there a way we can do that?”

Joey pulled her close and kissed her. “Yes. We can ask questions. You’re good at that,” he teased.

“Hey,” Penelope said. “This is really important.” Her eyes fell to the newspaper and she picked it up. “That’s Jacob Pears,” she murmured, looking at the small photograph of the bald man in round wire glasses.

“Who’s Jacob Pears?” Joey asked, looking at the photo. “Besides editor-in-chief of this...paper?”

“All I know is he’s not a fan of Festa,” Penelope said, eyeing the picture more closely.

“Okay, you’ve convinced me. I want to help.”

“I know,” Penelope said. “Oh, Jordan’s funeral is later today.”

“I’ll go with you,” Joey said.

Penelope thought about the old church across from the police station on Main Street, and then about Bailey at the hardware store. She’d told Joey about her suspicions that Bailey was involved in the restaurant break-in and vandalism, and Joey agreed she didn’t have enough evidence to pursue the issue with the sheriff. He was concerned for Penelope’s safety and suggested she steer clear of Bailey.

“I’d really like to be there for Jordan and his family,” Penelope said. “And maybe we can find out something about Kellie Foster too.”

Penelope texted Francis, making sure the crew knew they had another unexpected day off, then popped her phone back in the drawer. “I’ll check on Arlena later, make sure she’s okay. I don’t want to wake her up if she’s resting.”

“Too bad she’s sick on her birthday,” Joey said.

“Yeah,” Penelope said. “The birthday celebration will have to wait, I suppose. For a few reasons now.”

“I can’t believe Randall and Max are camping in this weather,” Joey closed his eyes and a shiver passed over his body.

Penelope grimaced. “I’m still waiting for them to come in from the cold.”

“I’d be back inside after an hour,” Joey said. “Your work is done for the moment, right?”

Penelope put her finger to her chin and thought. “Yep.”

Joey pulled her back down next to him under the comforter and flipped it over their heads.