The wood complained with every step as Roxy thudded down the stairs. I stood at the top of the staircase, holding the banister to keep from swaying. I looked down to see her reach the counter and repeatedly hit the small gold bell until Sarah came out from the back.
“Hello ma’am—”
“Who’s been up in our room?”
“No one. Joan won’t even come until eleven tomorrow to start cleaning—”
“Then who, do you suppose, slipped this into the door?” Roxy slid the postcard across the counter.
Sarah scanned the card. “I have no idea—”
“Someone clearly intended for this to spook us, and I’d like to know who. Right now.”
“Ma’am, I have no idea. I’ve been in the back all night, and only locals live here—”
“Then which of those locals would have done this? Would you like me to complain to the owner?”
“I’m really sorry this upset you. I would move you to another room, but there aren’t any left.”
Roxy leaned on the counter. “I’d like to speak with the owner.”
“Ma’am, please, I need this job.…”
“And he’s going to can your butt if he hears someone has been harassing one of your customers while you were on duty.”
Even from my vantage point from above, I could see Sarah nervously brush back a strand of her hair. “Please, I’m so sorry.…”
“You’re from around here. Tell me who lives here.”
“I’m not local.”
“When we checked in, you said you knew everybody in town.”
“I do know most people in town. Or, at least, I’ve learned their names and faces over the past six months or so.”
Even though I couldn’t see her face, I knew Roxy’s eyebrows were rising. “Then I suggest you tell me which of these faces went by our room tonight. I’m a lot meaner than I look, and I’m aware, right now, with these dark circles under my eyes, I look pretty frightening.”
“I need this job,” Sarah blurted out.
“Well, I’d like to speak with your boss, Sarah … whatever your last name is.”
When the girl burst into tears, Roxy shook her head. “Oh, for God’s sake, here.…” She reached into her purse, bringing out some Kleenex. “Why are you so worked up—?”
“You don’t understand … if you go to the owner and he fires me, I have nowhere to go.” She wiped her eyes. “And I can’t tell you my last name because I don’t know what it is. Who’s going to hire someone who doesn’t know their last name?”
“Listen, I’m full up with drama, trust me. Clearly, this is getting me nowhere. But I’m serious. I will find out who left this postcard, and if I get another one, I will track down this owner and seriously chew some ass. Comprende?”
The girl nodded, and Roxy gave her the rest of her Kleenex packet. “I don’t suppose you have surveillance video of the hallways or who’s come in the front door?”
The girl shook her head.
“What does it mean, ‘Where the Water Falls’?”
The sound of my voice surprised both of them. I must have come down the stairs so quietly they didn’t hear.
Sarah exhaled in an attempt to compose herself. “I asked the same thing of the old timers when I first saw it. When the first settlers came here, they said the creeks were so shiny they looked like argentum, which I’ve since learned is Latin for silver. And when the snow melted, there were so many little waterfalls leading into the creeks that it became a way to try and lure others to visit in the spring.”
“And how many of these old postcards are conveniently lying around town?” Roxy waved it in the air.
“I haven’t seen one in a while. Listen, I’m really sorry—”
“We’ll figure it out.” Roxy took me by the arm. “But I’m dead bolting our door tonight!”
Roxy muttered all the way up the stairs and loudly shut the door as we entered our room. I went to stand before the window.
“Well, don’t know if you heard her say it, but that girl says she doesn’t know who left this,” Roxy said. “She said they don’t keep surveillance.”
I stared into the dark. “Ten minutes ago, I was wondering if I was wrong about everything.”
“Just to play devil’s advocate, couldn’t it be somebody worried about two old broads who could be stuck here in a snowstorm?”
“I don’t think anybody in this town is concerned about our welfare.”
I thought about telling her about the connection I thought I’d made to the Researcher’s poem. But the idea of explaining to Roxy the theory, and thinking about how she would certainly respond with sarcasm, made me very tired.
“Should you call Tom?” she asked, digging through her bag for the nightgown we bought at the airport.
“I tried as we were coming up the stairs. Couldn’t get a signal out. Can’t send a text either. Might be why there’s been no calls or texts. Oh God, I hope nothing’s happened that has Anne panicked. If she can’t reach me, and Tom can’t, it may prompt him to ask police for help tracking me down.”
“Lynn, I have to tell you, this scares me a little. I don’t like this note. Should we call the police? Go make a report?”
“And tell them what exactly? Anyone who hears what we’re doing would think we’re the crazy ones. Especially if they’ve seen the news.”
“I thought we were crazy too,” Roxy said, holding out the postcard. “Until this.”
I took the postcard from her. “Even if they can’t get ahold of me, and they try to trace us, I don’t care. I’m not leaving until I know if William is here.”
* * *
“I would say I’m hormonal, but that ship sailed long ago, so I guess I’m just hankering for some guilty pleasures,” Roxy said as the Suburban rolled down the street. “I’m going to need some Doritos,”
“It’s 8:15 in the morning,” I replied, wincing. It was still bright outside, even with the endless gray skies. I looked down at my phone. No calls or texts, either to my phone or Roxy’s. Clearly there was no service here. There was no doubt Tom would start worrying. We were running out of time.
“I don’t want to go back into that bar, even for decent food. So when you can’t have scrambled eggs, you have Doritos, and I saw some in the window of that general store. Climbers, was it? Why don’t you bat your eyes at that old man and get us a free bag to go with my free Diet Coke from yesterday?”
“That old man is probably younger than us.”
“Look, we’re already here. One perk of this town is you can be anywhere in two seconds.”
I slid out, feeling a bit ridiculous that we drove instead of walking. But from here on out, we would be driving the rest of the day, trying to map out a plan. As I once again stepped in the store, the tobacco smell reminded me of Daddy. Had he been in this town as well? Looking for me?
“Well, this is my lucky week,” the man said with a smile, still perched at the counter.
“Good morning. I hope you have coffee.”
“That, my dear, I have plenty of.”
“This isn’t for me.” I slid the bag of Doritos across the counter.
“Hey, whatever gets you through the day.”
“Can you make it two cups?”
“Don’t break my heart and say that you’re here with your husband.”
“Just here with an old friend.”
“Still on the search?” he asked, pouring the coffee.
“Back at it today.”
“Like I said—don’t get your hopes up. If the wind blows in a different direction, I’m usually the first to know.”
I studied the man’s face. “I don’t suppose you tried to warn me of the storm with a postcard stuck in my door last night?”
“Somebody warn you about the storm in a note? Around here, warning about snowstorms is as common a greeting as good morning and good night.’”
“Something like that.”
“You staying up at the boarding house? Pretty nice folk up there, doubt they’d do anything to scare somebody. When we get storms, it’s no sweet Georgia rain. The snow comes in and it pounds us. Generators keep us alive; sometimes we go days without power. I doubt you have to deal with that down south.”
“The accent gives me away?” I paused before signing my name.
“It’s a beautiful accent.” He held up the receipt. “Nice to meet you, Lynn … Stanson.”
“What’s your name?”
“Joseph, but I go by Joe.” He reached out and shook my hand. “Please let me know if I can be any assistance to you.”
“The coffee helps a lot. Are you from here?”
“Wish I knew,” he grinned. “Now, don’t you start thinking I’m one of those old guys with Parkinson’s or dementia. I can tell you the names of the starting lineups in the bullpens for the Rockies since the early nineties and every song on Johnny Cash’s first album. But anything from my childhood or teenage years … nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“Woke up in our little medical center on the edge of town with absolutely no idea who I was. Can you believe it? Memory never came back. I assume I was some messed-up kid. Maybe some drugs fried my brain, or I got into some hell of a bar fight. No one ever came looking for me, so I must not have been a real charmer. Anyhow, people in this town were really good to me, so I stuck around. Started stocking shelves here, got friendly with the owner, Mr. Climbers. When he got sick, he asked me to run the place till he got better. That was fifty years ago! So here I am. Just me and Moses.”
“Moses?”
Joe pointed out the side window at what appeared to be one of the largest pickup trucks in the world.
“That’s something else,” I said.
“Instead of parting the Red Sea, I part the snow. My other job is helping to clear the streets when the snow comes in. I’ll have a busy next couple of days, if what the radio says is true.”
“So,” I started hesitantly, “do you listen to the radio a lot? Aren’t there more accurate warnings on TV or online?”
“Spend about five minutes in Argentum and you’ll see we’re a bit behind the times. Internet service is for shit up here, and no company is going to invest in fiber lines for a small town with less than five hundred people. Plus, most folks here like living off the grid, it’s why they’re here. Our major news source is pretty much AM radio. We don’t even get the Denver TV stations.”
At least there’s one town in America that doesn’t think I’m insane, I thought.
“It’s been nice talking to you, Joe, but I really have to go.”
“You be careful Miss Lynn. You run into any problems, you know where to find me. Especially if you get stuck!”
I waved as I walked out.
“Jesus, did you give him your number?” Roxy said as I climbed in. “Give me that coffee and those Doritos, in that order. So, what did Mr. Handsome have to say?”
“I didn’t realize you were watching that closely through the window.”
“That’s a fine-looking man, Lynn, like you didn’t notice. I may be postmenopausal, but I’m not dead. Maybe he’s the one who left you the note.”
“I flat-out asked him.” I sipped at the coffee.
“Well, someone left her shyness back in Tennessee.”
“What are we going to do if we get snowed in?”
“We best get a move on and do whatever it is we’re going to do, and maybe drive back towards the interstate for a bit to try and get a signal to call Tom. Did Romeo in there have any suggestions as where to start?”
“Poor man, he doesn’t even know if he’s from here. He doesn’t remember—”
“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Roxy put down her coffee.
“He said he can’t remember anything from his childhood, had amnesia of some sort—”
“He really said that?”
“Yes. Why does that matter?”
“Because if you were eavesdropping properly last night, you would have heard young Sarah at the front desk say she doesn’t remember her last name. And she doesn’t remember where she’s from either. That’s why she freaked out when I demanded to know who owned the inn. She said she was afraid she’d lose her job if he found out, because who would hire a girl who didn’t even know her last name.”
Roxy placed her hand on my leg. “Lynn, my God. My God.”
“What?”
“You always thought that brain tumor caused you to lose your memory as a kid. You always said your first memory was waking up and not recognizing your father. You had to relearn everything. But your father’s letter stated you never had a brain tumor. What if, Lynn, you were just like them?”
I remembered Daddy’s words from his letter to Steven: I’ve always been plagued with guilt that she doesn’t know her own true story.
I felt hot all over, regretting the coffee. I tapped the power window to allow a crack, letting the icy air brush my face. Daddy had concocted the story. Faked the medical records. All to cover up the fact that his daughter had no memory and couldn’t explain why to anyone.
I lowered the window even more, taking several deep breaths, the air stinging my lungs.
“Lynn?”
“Let’s just drive.”
“I could be wrong. Let me turn down the heat—”
“I just need some more air. I promise to roll it up in a minute.”
We drove down the same few streets, seeing no one. Finally, we found one woman walking her corgi. She shook her head sadly at William’s picture. “He’s a handsome boy. A few of the kids play up at the old ball field around the corner; you might find someone there who has seen him.”
“You should have asked her if she knew her last name,” Roxy said as we drove away.
We arrived at the park and found it to be as deserted and neglected as the rest of the town. A tiny yellow bus was parked nearby, and a few kids ran and screamed on a weary-looking playground.
“Hang around here. I know you said Mr. Hot Stuff back at the store got all his news from crappy radio, and so far no one has recognized you or William, but let me take it from here. Looks like there are a few houses around the baseball diamond down there. I’ll look for signs of life. I’ll be right back.”
“I need to walk a bit. But I’ll stay close.”
We both exited the Suburban, and I watched as Roxy walked away. I huddled in my coat, wishing I had bought thicker gloves. I’d gone from hot to bitter cold quickly, and I shuffled along to keep up the circulation.
I brought out my phone to power it up. Maybe I could get cell reception out here. I needed to call Anne—
A laugh in the distance caused me to almost drop the phone.
Four boys on the other side of the park were playing a game of touch football. One of them had dropped his hat, exposing his red hair.
The boy turned around. For a split second, I saw his face.
William pulled his hat over his ears and laughed.