Chapter Seven

I put on a brave face at work the next day, but Sunny wasn’t fooled.

“As the grands would say, you look like something the cat dragged in and refused to eat,” she said as I slumped over the circulation desk after lunch.

I waved her off with one limp hand. “It’s nothing.”

“Sure, tell me another one.” Sunny ran her fingers through her silky hair. “You want to talk about it?”

“Nope.”

Sunny shook her head. “Well, you know where to find me when you do.”

I thanked her and went back to compiling statistics from our integrated library system. It was a part of my job that I hated, which made it a perfect match for my mood.

Not long after I’d completed my task, with my mind still fuzzy with figures, I decided to head out to the archives. Perhaps another dive into the documents referencing the mountain lights story would take my mind off thoughts of Richard’s strange behavior.

Flipping through some of the folders I’d pulled for Mona and not yet refiled, I discovered numerous descriptions of the lights, along with a few other related interviews. One in particular caught my eye. It was a transcription of oral recollections of the 1879 disappearance of the two young women.

I leaned over the worktable, scanning the typed report. It contained much of the same details as other material on the topic, except for one difference—it included comments by an elderly woman from a town on the other side of the mountains.

The document was one that I hadn’t bothered to look at before, although I was sure Mona and her students had examined it. Within a few pages I realized why Mona hadn’t brought it to my attention. The woman who was quoted in the document had been a cousin of Violet Greyson and had met Ada Frye while visiting her cousin’s home. She swore that she’d been an ally in the girls’ plan to run away after the May Day festival and that she’d even offered to provide them with a place to stay once they made it over the mountain. But the girls had never shown up for their planned reunion, leading the cousin to believe that they had died during their escape. “Violet would never have failed to contact me, one way or the other,” the elderly woman had claimed, according to the transcription. “So I knew they was dead, for sure.”

I sat back and stared at the document. This was something no one had ever brought into the mountain lights story, and I could see why. It certainly didn’t support Mona’s or any other storyteller’s tales of the fae luring the girls into some mystical realm. If the girls had planned their escape from Taylorsford and their families in such detail, including setting up a safe haven with Violet’s cousin in a new town, they hadn’t gone out that night simply to chase the “fairy lights.” They’d had a destination in mind and an obvious determination to reach it. Somehow I doubted that they would have been distracted, even if they had seen lights or heard mysterious music. The way Mona told the tale, one could picture two young girls running off on a lark and being lured away by the fae.

Fact is fact, and fiction is fiction, and story is often a blend of both, I thought as I placed the document back into its folder. Although I found it fascinating, it wasn’t up to me to reveal this information. For all I knew, Mona planned to include it in her final research project. I might mention it to her, but I didn’t want to expose this truth before she had a chance to do so.

I left the archives and returned to the library, where Sunny remarked that I was finally looking human. Reinvigorated by my discovery, I was able to get through the rest of the workday without too much moping.

On my walk home from the library, the anxiety flooded back. I replayed the previous evening’s telephone conversation with Richard several times. Although part of me wanted to confront him, I was conflicted over whether to stop by his house. He’d told me in an earlier text that he’d be home by late afternoon, but I wasn’t certain if I was up to seeing him yet. I knew that when I did, I’d feel compelled to demand answers.

And you’re not so sure you really want those answers, are you? Not if they confirm your worst fears.

My decision was made for me when I reached my destination. Parked on the street in front of Richard’s property was a sheriff’s department car. Sprinting toward his renovated 1920s farmhouse, I fixed my gaze on the two deputies standing on the covered front porch.

“What’s going on?” I called out as I bounded up the cement steps of the porch. “Is he okay?”

“Yes, Mr. Muir is fine,” said a petite woman with short dark hair. It was Alison Frye, a sheriff’s deputy who reported to the man standing next to her.

Tall, broad-shouldered, and blond, chief deputy Brad Tucker had been dating Sunny for about a year, so I’d spent considerable time in his company and considered him a friend. But he was also a shrewd and determined law enforcement officer who was devoted to his job. Displaying his stern professional face, he met my concerned gaze. “We just finished questioning him.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. Richard is fine. Perfectly fine. “About what?”

Brad pushed his hat back and rubbed his forehead. “Amy, you know we can’t go into details about things like that.”

“Lacey Jacobs? I know she’s in his dance studio, but surely that isn’t anything …”

Alison Frye examined me, her hazel eyes narrowed. “Exactly. And he was apparently the last person on campus to see her before she disappeared. Speaking of which, were you in contact with Mr. Muir this weekend, Ms. Webber?”

Last person to see her? Wait a minute, what is this all about? I glared at Alison, biting back a sharp comment about her great-uncle and his guns. “We spoke on the phone on Thursday and Friday evenings. And then again last night when he returned home from a visit with his family.”

“You weren’t with him Friday or Saturday?”

“No, as I’m certain you’re already aware, he was out of town.” I met Alison’s laser-focused gaze. “He was spending time at his parents’ home from late Thursday until yesterday evening. But I’m sure he told you that.”

“He did.” Alison tapped a stylus against the screen of her cell phone. “But there seems to be some discrepancy …”

Brad shot Alison a sharp look. “That’s enough. We have Ms. Webber’s statement that she didn’t see Mr. Muir this weekend. That’s all we need.”

Alison muttered something under her breath as she slipped her phone back into the jacket pocket of her uniform.

“Any more leads on finding Lacey?” I asked, directing my query at Brad.

He shook his head. “None that I can go into to. Sorry, but this is an open investigation.”

I met his steely gaze. “I understand. I’m just worried about the girl.”

“As we all are,” Alison said, with a quick glance toward Richard’s front door. “Well, almost all of us, anyway.”

I wondered what she was insinuating. Knowing Richard, I was sure he was deeply concerned about the disappearance of one of his students. “Is that all you need from me? I’d like to go talk to Richard, if you don’t mind. As I said, I haven’t seen him for several days.”

Brad pulled his hat back down over his forehead. “Yes, that’s all. Let’s go, Deputy Frye. We’re done here.”

Alison cast me one long, dubious look before she took the stairs. Brad hung back for a moment while she headed for the patrol car.

“Sorry, Amy,” he said in a friendlier tone. “I have to follow where the evidence leads. You know that.”

“I know.” I patted his arm. “It’s okay. As long as Lacey comes home safely, nothing else matters.”

“I hope that’s true,” he said, his blue eyes shadowed by something that made my stomach flip. “Anyway, you take care of yourself, okay?”

“Always do,” I said, brushing a stray lock of hair from my face.

He smiled, but I noticed that it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “See ya,” he added with a tip of his hat.

“Sure thing,” I said to his broad back as he turned and left.

I waited until the patrol car pulled away before I pressed Richard’s doorbell.

“Hi,” I said when he appeared, wearing a white T-shirt and navy sweatpants. “Can I come in?”

“Of course.” He opened the door, but strangely, didn’t reach for me.

I swallowed the bubble of bile that had rolled up my throat. Normally Richard would have hugged and kissed me for several minutes after not seeing me for only a day. Now we’d been apart for a week and he was just standing there, showing no interest in even touching me.

Very well then. As I slid past him and headed for the center of the room, I noticed his pallor and the shadows, dark as bruises, under his eyes. “Everything okay?”

“Oh sure. Right as rain. Which is a strange phrase, if you think about it. What’s right about the rain? I mean, it’s necessary, but why would it be right?”

He was babbling. I waited in the middle of the room for him to close the door. “What’s going on? I know there’s something you’re not telling me.”

Not bothering to lock the door, Richard flung out both hands. “Please lay off, Amy. First I get the third degree from Brad and that pint-sized harpy, and now you’re interrogating me?”

I stared at him, blinking rapidly. “I’m not interrogating anyone. I just asked a simple question.”

A string of swear words flew from Richard’s lips. He stepped forward, dropping his hands to his sides with his fingers clenched. “I just don’t see why you must know every little detail about my movements when I’m out of town. I told you I was busy. That should suffice.”

My stomach felt as heavy as if I’d swallowed a handful of stones. “Sorry. I’ve just been concerned that something was bothering you and thought perhaps I could help. But obviously I was mistaken.”

I turned away to stare at the gleaming expanse of wood that covered the other side of the room. Needing a place to rehearse when he wasn’t on campus, Richard had turned a large portion of his open front room into a small dance studio, complete with a sprung dance floor, mirrors, and a barre.

“That’s not true, it’s just”—Richard strode over to stand beside me—“everything’s so complicated right now.”

“How can anything be that complicated?” I curled my fingers so tightly into my palms that my nails bit into the skin.

“Amy, please …” Richard circled around to face me.

“Please what? Look, it’s apparent that something has put you in an extremely foul mood. I’m not so sure I want to know what or why at this point.”

He furiously massaged his jaw with the back of one hand. “It’s all this suspicion, for one thing. First at Clarion, then here, from Brad and that other deputy …”

I relaxed by clenched fingers. “What do you mean, at Clarion?”

Richard closed his eyes for a moment. “The campus police also questioned me today. About Lacey Jacobs.”

“What about her?”

“Apparently I was the last person on campus to have seen her. Or at least to admit that they had.”

When Richard looked directly at me, I was devastated by the pain I read in his gray eyes. I tempered the anger in my voice. “Campus police thought you were somehow involved in her disappearance because of that coincidence?” I stepped closer to him. “That seems like a stretch, especially since you went out of town Thursday right after you saw her. It’s been proven that she went up into the mountains on Friday. Bethany Virts actually gave her a ride up to the Twin Falls trail, which means Lacey was fine at that point. So how could her disappearance be connected to you? Weren’t you at your parents’ the entire time? The authorities could certainly check that out.” I stared into his drawn face. “You were at your parents’ house, right?”

Richard looked away, but not before his face blanched to the color of bone. “I was in that area. But all the errand running meant I was driving around on my own quite a bit. To be honest, no one there can vouch for my whereabouts for hours at a time.”

“But you weren’t here.”

Richard turned back to me. “True, but it’s only a ninety-minute drive between Taylorsford and my hometown, so the authorities are still looking closely into my movements over the weekend.” He threw up his hands. “Apparently being the last person from Clarion to see Lacey, along with being her teacher, is a big deal.”

“Right.” I tapped my foot against the hardwood floor. “Strangely, you’ve never mentioned it, but I understand that she’s part of your studio.”

“She is.” Richard kept his eyes focused on the far wall behind me. “Lacey’s a strong dancer and she has a real talent for choreography, but she struggles with academics, among other things.” When Richard met my questioning gaze, his typical smile had twisted into a grimace. “Okay, here’s the real issue—I didn’t just see her in the studio on Thursday. She also stopped by my office after class to talk about her ideas for a piece of choreography. Or so I thought.”

“What did she actually want to discuss?”

“That’s the problem. I really don’t know. She walked into my office already teary-eyed and sniffling. I spent several minutes handing her tissues and trying to calm her down.” Richard ran his hand through his short dark hair, making it stand up in spikes. “I guess I wasn’t patient enough. I was already running late and still needed to make that drive to Mom and Dad’s, so I told Lacey I didn’t have time for her problems and she’d have to come back another day to discuss the choreography piece. Then she burst out sobbing and fled my office. I never saw her again after that.”

I studied his face, which now had the flushed look of someone battling a fever. “You think she wanted to share some personal problem? I mean, something that might have subsequently made her take a solo hike in the woods?”

Richard took a deep breath before replying. “I do now, which is what I told the campus police as well as the authorities here …”

A squeal of tires cut off his words.

I spun around to face the front windows. “Accident?”

“Better check.” Richard ran to the front door and flung it open.

I followed on his heels as he dashed out onto the porch, just in time to see a car make a hard U-turn where the paved road ended. The car’s tires squealed again as it sped away toward the center of town.

“What the heck?” Richard strode over to the simple white railing that enclosed his front porch. “Wait, do you hear that?”

I stepped up beside him, listening closely. A faint, high-pitched sound rose from the azaleas that lined the stone foundation of the house. “Some kind of animal.”

“It could be hurt.” Richard took the steps two at a time to reach the ground. He knelt down in the grass and parted several branches to peer into the shrubs.

“Be careful.” I leaned over the balustrade. “Injured animals can bite.”

“It’s just a baby.” When Richard drew back his arms, a small ball of black-and-orange fluff was balanced between his palms. “A kitten.” He glanced up at me. “I bet someone in that car tossed it out.”

“Who would do such a thing?” I raced down the steps to reach his side.

“Thoughtless monsters.” Richard gently cradled the kitten against his chest and rose to his feet. “It’s breathing hard. Could be hurt. I think I should take it to the vet to have it checked out.”

“I’ll come with you,” I said, meeting his questioning gaze. “I can hold it while you drive.”

“Okay.” Richard cast me an apologetic smile. “Sorry for being such an ass before,” he said, stroking the kitten’s back with two fingers.

“Let’s forget that for now. We need to work together on this. Give me the kitten while you grab your keys and wallet and lock up.” I held out my hands.

Richard carefully passed the tiny creature to me before sprinting toward his house.

The kitten was breathing heavily. Its soft sides rose and fell against my palms. I curled in my pinky finger and touched the tip of its little black nose. “It’s okay, baby, we’re going to help you.”

A tiny pink tongue darted out and licked my finger.

And, for the second time in ten months, I fell in love.