Rath set off across the hospital lot in the fog.
At the Scout he fished his keys out of his coat pocket.
“Frank?” a voice said behind him.
Rath spun. Fog swirled.
For a moment he wasn’t sure it was her. She’d cut her hair, or perhaps tucked it under the crocheted hat askew on her head.
“Hey,” Madeline said and fidgeted with her hat.
“You left the Dress Shoppe,” Rath said stupidly.
“It lost its charm after that girl you asked me about, the girl I helped in the store, was found dead in the trunk of a car. How’d you know I left?”
“I stopped in for more clothes.”
“For Rachel?”
Rath was surprised she remembered Rachel’s name. Though it had only been a few weeks since he’d seen Madeline, it felt like months. She’d left a couple messages on his voice mail shortly after the date. He’d never returned the calls.
Madeline wiped rainwater from her eyes, glanced at the hospital as an ambulance siren yelped behind Rath. “What brings you here? I hope nothing—”
“I had to meet someone. Work.”
“A case.”
Rath nodded.
“It must be hard, working with missing and dead people and violence all the time.”
“I hadn’t done it for years until the girl who was in your shop went missing. That was extenuating circumstances.”
“Extenuating circumstances for this one, too?”
“So it seems.”
“I hope it works out better this time.”
Rath wanted to say he had listened to her voice-mail messages, in fact saved them, and was sorry he’d not gotten back to her, time had gotten away and other matters had taken priority. He wanted to say he had been sorry not to see her in the shop. Instead, he twirled his key ring around his finger, the keys jangling. As if this were a cue, Madeline said, “I hope Rachel likes her clothes. It was good to see you. Quite a coincidence.”
Before Rath could say anything, Madeline had turned and disappeared into the fog.
Yes, Rath thought, quite the coincidence.