Natalie got up in the middle of the night, thinking she heard someone crying outside. A plaintive, mewling sound. The wind blew through the house with a dull whoosh. She got up and stood on the back porch, but there was no one out there, wailing away. It was just the rain.
The house’s roof dripped raindrops. The trees greeted the rain by tossing their arms enthusiastically, leaping and waving like drunken puppies. Strong, towering trees getting steadily more inebriated until—soaked to the core—they sagged and bowed and stumbled loosely in the wind.
Luke must’ve heard the back door open, because he came downstairs and stood next to her on the porch. Together they watched the chaos swarming around them—lightning and thunder, the wildness of nature that couldn’t be contained.
It welled up inside her—an unnamable, unfathomable sadness. Life was tender and sweet and bitter. Even the good stuff was sad, because it had to end at some point. Some people drank or took drugs to numb themselves from all the emotions that stuck to life. Some people would rather be numb than covered in burrs.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Luke said beside her. He wore pajama bottoms and a T-shirt, goose bumps rising on his exposed flesh.
“Powerful.” She furrowed her brow.
“Before I fell asleep, I started reading Lily Kingsley’s file.”
She glanced over at him.
“Lily was twenty-two years old, a violin soloist who attended the Brock Conservatory. Just like Morgan. Her mother, Clarissa, was a former violinist. According to witness reports, she was a free spirit who wasn’t afraid to hitch rides. Last seen leaving a bar on the outskirts of Chaste Falls six months ago. No kidnapping demands were ever made, no witnesses came forward. Her body has never been found.” He crossed his arms. “An ex-boyfriend was a primary suspect for a while. There was also a pervy neighbor in her apartment building, a middle-aged man Lily had an altercation with about leaving his garbage in front of her door. The police cleared both suspects. One interesting fact—Lily was interested in witchcraft, and she looked a lot like Morgan. Blue eyes, long dark red hair, slight build, very pretty. Also of note, a few years before she went missing, she had Morgan’s father as a teacher at the conservatory.”
Natalie turned to him. “We need to find out if Lily had any injuries to her hands. Maybe she went to the clinic where Russ works as a volunteer.”
“That would be significant,” Luke said. “But circumstantial.”
“The circumstantial evidence keeps piling up, though,” she said. “Whoever slipped Morgan a date rape drug has to be local. He knew about the parking lot behind Blondie’s. He has to be familiar with the area. He has to know drug dealers or have access to illegal drugs.” She turned to him, anguished, and said, “Russ could’ve gotten GHB through his work in the emergency room. We need to see those surveillance tapes from Hunter’s party and find out how soon he left the party after Morgan did. He told me he went straight home, but what if he followed her into town? We need to track his whereabouts that night.”
“Okay, I’ll get on it first thing,” Luke reassured her. “In the meantime, what about your other suspects?”
“I still have questions about Lawrence Chambers and Hollis Jones. Also Morgan’s ex-boyfriend needs more scrutiny…”
“Couldn’t it be someone who’s not even on our radar?” he suggested.
“Sure. Maybe the zombie at Blondie’s. But Russ is being evasive, and the question is … why?”
“Regardless, you need to verify the alibis of Chambers, Jones, and the ex-boyfriend. We need to eliminate them if we want to narrow our focus.”
“I’ll call Dressler in the morning,” Natalie said. “Have him find out if Lily Kingsley ever made an appointment with Russ at the clinic. We also need to find out if she participated in the Monster Mash contest last year, or years prior.”
“Do you think there’s a connection with the contest?”
“Could be.” Her shoulders lifted with a sigh. “Russ was a judge this year. I don’t know about last year.”
“So your current theory is that Russ Swinton may have caught up with Morgan at Blondie’s, where he slipped her a roofie, but before he could abscond with her, she ran away and hid in the dumpster?”
“Something like that.”
Luke studied her silently.
She watched his calm, even breath clouds.
“Let’s go back inside and get some sleep.”
Back on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket, and listening to the steady sound of rain on the roof, Natalie managed to fall asleep.
In the morning, she opened her eyes and watched the sunrise bleed through the curtains. The fog, the rain had departed. She saw leaf shadows on the ceiling. She saw a pile of logs stacked next to the fireplace. She saw an old ax—he split his own firewood. She noticed an unplugged floor heater.
“Good morning,” Luke said, coming in from the kitchen. She’d forgotten how good he looked in a T-shirt and jeans. “How’d you sleep?”
She yawned and stretched. “Never better.”
He watched her with thinly veiled amusement. She liked his straight white teeth and forgiving smile. She studied his brushstroke eyebrows and the faint violet shadows beneath his intelligent eyes. “Coffee?” he offered.
She pulled the comforter up to her neck. “Yes, please. Strong, with lots of cream and two sugars, please.”
He smiled and said, “Sure, have a little coffee in your cream.” He went back into the kitchen, and a couple of minutes later, he brought her a cup of coffee.
She sat up and took a sip. “Mmm. Good.”
“Distance is hard on relationships,” he said. “It’s sad to lose touch with a child you’ve known for years, and then suddenly they’re gone, and communication becomes difficult. It’s as if you’re talking through two tin cans connected with string. It’s especially hard when you can’t see their facial expressions or sense their shifting moods. Losing touch is literal—you lose the touch of a hand, the touch of a smile. Eyes touching. It’s a big loss.”
She put down her mug. “So what’s the solution?”
“After Audrey took Skye away to California with her, I didn’t speak to my daughter for quite some time,” he confessed. “I kept meaning to call, but she lived three thousand miles away, and I couldn’t get the time difference straight in my head—do I call three hours ahead, or three hours behind? Whenever I got a few minutes to spare, I’d pick up the phone, but it would either be too early or too late. Finally, Skye called me and said, ‘Listen, Dad, anytime you think about calling me, just remember what an ass you are. An “ass” is the same thing as a “behind.” Got it? It’s three hours behind in California. Just think of it that way, and everything will be cool.’” He laughed, and his body relaxed—and he looked suddenly more handsome than she’d ever seen him.
“That’s awesome,” Natalie said with a smile.
“So I told her, ‘You’ve managed to insult me, while at the same time simplifying my life.’”
Natalie rested her gaze in the comfortable depths of his eyes.
“The point is … the next time you feel Ellie slipping away, just remind yourself how easy it is to reconnect. It’s as simple as picking up the phone.” He smiled warmly at her. They used to be so close. She craved that closeness now.
At the same time, it made her nervous and created a jitteriness in her soul.
“I should be going,” she said.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded and smiled. “Thanks for the hospitality.”
“Next time don’t forget my birthday card.”
“Deal.” She smirked, then collected her belongings—shoes, bag, jacket.
He walked her to the door, where they paused on the threshold. “Natalie,” he said. “Let me know how you’re doing, okay?”
She looked at him quizzically.
“I mean … how you’re handling it. I’m here to listen.”
Her phone rang, and they both inched backward, slightly startled.
She fumbled in her bag for her phone. “Jeesh. What? Hello?”
“This is Hunter. We need to talk.”