The Ruth Valley Missing

by Amber West

  “I’m sorry I don’t have much to offer you both, but I am still just getting myself settled. I do have some juice downstairs if you would like to stay for a glass.” I stood there hoping I made the offer sound unattractive, but sincere.

  “That would be—” Father Michael began to answer but was quickly cut off.

  “Thank you but that isn’t necessary. We have other duties to attend to.”

  “Of course. Some other time.”

  I followed them down the stairs, the scent of lavender oil traveling with us, and watched the large cross around Sister Marjorie’s neck sway as they both made their way out of the door and down the walkway. As they walked away, Jack came walking up, pausing to exchange a few words with the visitors then continuing up to my doorway.

  “Making friends?”

  I shrugged. “I’m not so sure. I don’t think the nun liked me.”

  “Awww, she’s all bark. She used to run a school for troubled youth in her younger years. Good woman, just very stern is all. I doubt it’s personal.”

  “I hope not. The priest seems nice.”

  “Yeah, he’s alright, I guess.”

  “So...do you have the papers?”

  “Yes,” Jack smiled, holding up a small stack of documents. “Here and ready for your signature.”

  “Great. Come on in. I’ll go find a pen.”

  Jack stood in the doorway, then looked across the lawn and hesitated. “That’s alright. You can get them to me later. I need to get back up to the house to take care of a few things.”

  “I’ll bring them by later then.”

  “Good.” He walked away somewhat abruptly, leaving me with the stack of documents in my hand, as well as the envelope from Sister Marjorie. I shrugged, stepped back inside, and set the leasing documents on the counter. I opened the envelope and walked upstairs as I read the “Volunteer Application”. The questions ranged from interests and schooling to current relationship status and medical history. It was oddly personal, although I could find justification for each question if I really tried.

  Still, it was odd.

  I set the application on the bed, and walked over to the bathroom to run a bath as I continued to clean the bedroom. Had I made a mistake moving here so far from what I was used to?

  I frowned as I contemplated the possibility that this move could be a bad decision. It wasn’t one that couldn’t be undone, but still. I went into the bathroom, undressed, and lowered myself into the deep claw foot tub. As I leaned my head against the edge of the cool porcelain, I noticed a little skylight above, the sky outside heavy with dark clouds. I closed my eyes as rain began to fall, hitting the roof with a gentle rhythmic beat. It was the most peaceful I’d felt in ages.

  Maybe this wasn’t a mistake. Odd didn’t have to mean bad, right?

  I opened my eyes and looked out into the bedroom at the Ferragamo wingtips sitting on the floor, a reminder of what I left behind. No, I think odd was going to be just fine.

  Chapter 10

  “Hiya, Jameson! You gettin’ settled in?”

  Emma greeted me, overflowing with enthusiasm, as I entered the diner. It drew a bit more attention to my presence than I wanted, but the warmth was appreciated.

  “So far, so good.”

  “I have a booth right over there if you like.”

  “Actually, I was wondering if you would mind if I took some pictures?”

  I held up my camera bag, as if its bulky existence was enough of an explanation.

  “I’m sure that’s fine. What for?”

  “It’s just a hobby. I like to take pictures of, well, pretty much everything. The diner is so cute, I was dying to take some photos last time I was in. Probably would have if I hadn’t been so distracted by that meatloaf.”

  Emma giggled. “Well, go right ahead. Let me know if you need a cup of coffee or anything.”

  “Actually, after I take a few photos, I’d love a piece of apple pie. It’s not too early for that, is it?”

  “As far as I’m concerned it can never be too early for pie or too late for bacon.”

  I laughed as Emma headed behind the counter. I knew I liked her.

  It was mid-morning, so there were only a few people in the diner, which is what I was hoping. I stood next to a stool, opening my bag and attaching a lens to my camera. I stood looking around, deciding what to shoot first. The light coming in the diner windows made the chrome accents all around me sparkle. I walked around, framing shots and quietly snapping away. I took photos of all the seemingly mundane things around me; flatware, tables, salt and pepper shakers, Emma’s yellow uniform as she leaned against a red booth.

  When I felt I had everything I wanted, I slid into an empty booth. Before I could even set my camera down, Emma came up with a plate of warm apple pie.

  “Did you want some coffee with your pie?”

  “That would be perfect.”

  She was back in a flash with a mug full of coffee and cream on the side. She took a quick look around, then slid in the seat opposite me, sitting on her leg and leaning forward.

  “So, are you a photographer?”

  I laughed and shook my head. “I wouldn’t say that. I’ve sold some work, but it’s really just a hobby. This town has so much character, I feel like I’ll have my face behind the camera all the time.”

  “You think so?”

  “Definitely. Don’t you?”

  Emma crinkled her nose. “It’s alright, I guess. I just don’t imagine thinking much of it when you’ve lived in a big city.”

  “Well, you know, grass is always greener. Except in this case, my grass was grey alleys that smelled like urine. So, the grass really is greener here.”

  Emma covered her mouth, her eyes wide, then giggled. “You’re funny, Jameson.”

  “My friends call me James.”

  “James it is then,” she said, stretching out my name as if to emphasize her choice to use it.

  “Will you bring the pictures you took by sometime?”

  “Of course.” I grabbed my camera and took the lens cap off, aiming it at Emma. As I did, she tilted her head to one side and gave me a big smile, showing off the dimples in her rosy cheeks. “That one is going to be super cute.”

  She clapped her hands together and hopped out of the booth. “I gotta get back to work. Holler if you need a refill on your coffee.”

  “Thanks.”

  I sat eating my pie and staring out the window, deciding where to explore next.

  “Is this seat taken, Miss Quinn?”

  I looked up at the muddy green eyes staring down at me, surprised to see Father Michael standing there.

  “No,” I swallowed, wondering if there was any special etiquette when eating with a priest. “Please, sit.”

  Emma came over with a mug of coffee before he could ask. “Thank you, Emma. How’s your family?”

  “Good, Father. Mostly. Momma has a cold, but she is getting better. The sisters came by to see her a few days ago.”

  “Good, good.”

  Emma slipped away as Father Michael sipped his coffee.

  “So, Father, what can I do for you?”

  “Michael. Or Mike, actually. I’ve given up on getting most of the locals to be less formal, but there’s still hope with you.”

  “Well, in that case, Mike, call me Jameson. Or James, if you prefer.”

  “Sounds like a deal.”

  I smiled, feeling slightly less unnerved at sitting across from his black and white collar, but still wondering why he was here. As if on cue, he continued, “I just wanted to apologize for our unexpected visit the other day. The church here is great, very involved, but sometimes the methods can be a little, abrupt, I guess? They mean well, though. Just didn’t want you to be scared off.”

  “Thank you. Sister Marjorie did seem a little intense, and I have to admit, that volunteer application is pretty involved.”

  “You are still planning on volunteering?”

  “Definitely. I’m go
ing to bring the application by later this week.”

  “Great.” Mike sipped his coffee then nodded towards my camera. “That’s a nice piece of equipment.”

  I patted my camera like a treasured pet. “It was a special treat for myself.”

  “Well, there are plenty of beautiful spots around here to put that to use. I’ll have to see about getting you a tour of the church.”

  “I’d love that actually.”

  Mike looked at the camera as he finished his coffee, staring. “I can’t stay but I’m glad I caught you. Feel free to come to me anytime if you need anything.”

  “Thanks.” I lowered my voice and added with a smile, “Mike.”

  He smiled as he slid out of the booth. “Thanks, Jameson.”

  He waved goodbye to Emma and a few other patrons before exiting. Emma sidled up to my table, setting my bill down and said, “Isn’t he just the nicest man ever?” Emma giggled and leaned closer, lowering her voice. “It’s a shame he decided to be a priest.”

  I had to laugh seeing the look on her face, as if she was shocked at her own words, a look she followed with more giggles and a quick exit to the kitchen.

  I understood what she meant. Mike was tall, unkempt hair, with an almost rakish quality, not at all what you’d expect for a priest. He had a friendly smile and an easy way about him that was very attractive. But he was Father Mike, so thinking about him in those terms seemed wrong.

  I shook my head and focused on a more acceptable indulgence sitting on the plate in front of me.

  Chapter 11

  “I come bearing paperwork and baked goods.”

  I stood in the rear doorway of Jack’s house, leasing papers in one hand, a plate of brownies in the other.

  “Well, that wasn’t necessary. But most definitely welcome. Come on in.”

  Jack pushed the screen door open eyeing the brownies while I walked in and set them on the countertop. “Was just about to make myself some tea. Would you like a cup?”

  I nodded.

  “Go have a seat in the living room. I’ll be there in just a sec.”

  I walked ahead into a spacious yet cozy room with a large stone fireplace. There were brown leather couches, weathered looking and inviting, and throw pillows in rich jewel tones; purple, green and amber. Against one wall stood a darkly stained armoire, the door slightly ajar, so I snuck a peek at the contents. What I mistook for an armoire appeared to be a gun cabinet.

  “Sugar and milk?”

  I jumped and stammered, attempting to hide what was surely a guilty look. “That’s fine.”

  “I figured as much.”

  Jack walked over and set the two mugs he had managed in one hand down on the table, then the plate of brownies from the other.

  I settled into one of the couches, as Jack settled into the large arm chair. He grabbed his tea and took a sip before speaking. “Didn’t mean to startle you just then. Though I can see how it would be easy to startle when you are busy snooping.”

  “Sorry,” I felt the heat of embarrassment rush into my face. “The door was open.”

  “Just giving you a hard time. It’s mostly hunting rifles. Some of them I still use, others are practically antiques, passed down through the family.” I nodded, having nothing to add since my knowledge of guns didn’t extend past what I saw on TV and in the movies. “You settling in okay?”

  “Yes. I really like it actually. The place is cozy, and it’s so peaceful here. I can’t believe the place was empty.”

  “Yeah, you got lucky. Had a gal living there for a bit, but she up and left all of the sudden.”

  “She didn’t even give you notice?”

  “Nope. Nothin’. But it worked out for the best I guess. She wasn’t too social. Didn’t fit in so well around here. Speaking of which, how are you getting on with folks in town? Made any friends?”

  “I haven’t met too many people yet. Emma from the diner is really sweet. I like chatting with her. I was thinking of inviting her to go take photos with me one afternoon.”

  “Well, that’s awfully nice. Her mom hasn’t had the best of health and her dad skipped out on them some time ago. Be nice to have someone new looking out for her.”

  I smiled. It was nice to be considered thoughtful, even if I was just happy to make a new friend.

  “Other than her, I haven’t really had a chance to get to know very many people.”

  “People around here tend to socialize around food and church.”

  “Yeah, well, I was kinda horrified last Sunday, so I didn’t stick around to meet anyone.”

  “We’ll fix that. There’s a big barbecue and rummage sale this weekend, on Saturday. Most everyone in town will be in and out. It’s a bit more relaxed so you might find it easier to meet some folks.”

  I was never big on crowded affairs, but in my brief time in the town, I knew that being considered part of the community was important. This did sound like a good opportunity to make up for my previous first impression. Plus, a rummage sale promised interesting photographic opportunities, and maybe even a new lamp.

  “That sounds fun. I’ll definitely be there.”

  “You can ride with me if you like. It’s a nice stroll during the day, but the evenings are getting a bit cold for it.”

  “Thanks.” I felt a moment of awkwardness, wondering if I had simply accepted a ride or a date. Since asking for clarification would have been more awkward, I ignored it. “So, you’ve been the sheriff here for very long?”

  “Seven years.”

  “You know, the lack of crime is one of the reasons I wanted to move here. Do I have you to thank for that?”

  “Nah. Well, maybe a little. The town, as you may have noticed, is very close knit. Everyone looks out for each other. I’m just here for the occasional moments when the rules need extra enforcing, like someone hunting without a permit. Or a cat gets stuck in a tree.”

  “Isn’t that the fire department’s job?” I joked.

  “We have a volunteer fire department, so they aren’t exactly on duty much of the time. I don’t mind, though.”

  “Sounds like you like it.”

  “Who wouldn’t?”

  “What do you do when you aren’t being the town enforcer?”

  “Oh, you know, the usual out here. Hunt, fish, read. Speaking of which, have you seen the bookstore in town? Great little place.” He paused and leaned forward, “As a matter of fact, they are looking for someone to help out there, if you are looking for work.”

  I hadn’t given much thought to work yet. I knew that I would be fine without work for a while, but not working at all might draw more questions about my finances than I wanted, so a part time job might be just the thing. Plus, I couldn’t imagine a book store in this town keeping me super busy.

  “I’ll have to go check it out.”

  “Just tell them I sent you.”

  I finished sipping my tea, when the grandfather clock began to chime. Jack stood up, so I followed his lead.

  “Well, I hate to be rude, but you better be going. People around this town will talk if they hear you were up at my place past nine.”

  I couldn’t imagine how anyone would know that I was here, as set back as the house was from the road, but I didn’t want to offend, and the thought of curling up with a book before bed did sound nice.

  “Oh, right. Thanks for the tea and everything.”

  “Of course, James. What are neighbors for?”

  In my apartment in the city, they were for ignoring as much as possible, or for yelling at through a paper thin wall. I liked the idea of them being good for tea and conversation.

  Chapter 12

  I walked into the quiet church, the late afternoon sun casting light through the stained glass onto the pews below. It was a gothic style cathedral, reminding me of St. Patrick’s in New York, only smaller and, I would imagine, not nearly as old. I was hoping someone would be around to give my application to, but brought my camera in hopes of exploring a bit.


  “Hello?” I called, but found only silence.

  No sense in wasting great light, I thought, as I pulled my camera out of its bag. I wandered around, snapping photos of the windows, and spots in the church where the colored light danced on wooden pews. As I snapped my way to the front, I noticed an archway with steps leading down. I followed them slowly, as the lights in the stairway weren’t the brightest. At the bottom of the stairs in the darkness was a door. I peeked through a small window to see a hallway on the other side.

  “Jameson?”

  I whipped around to see Father Mike standing behind me. Why did everyone in this town have to sneak up behind me?

  “You scared the...” I paused, taking in my surroundings before continuing, “life out of me.”

  “We definitely don’t want that.”

  I felt a shiver as he reached for my shoulder, turning me away from the door.

  Just a draft, I thought.

  “Does that hallway lead somewhere?”

  He nodded. “Come with me. I’ll show you.”

  He started back up the stairs, with me following. He led me through a side entrance, to the outside, and along a path leading behind the church. The grounds were well kept, and although it was fall, you could see where the various trees and bushes would flower and fill the garden in the spring. We walked a bit further and Father Mike pointed to a long stone building, some yards ahead.

  “The church was built with an underground hall leading from the convent to the cathedral. If you followed that hallway, you’d end up in the Sisters’ living quarters.”

  “Oh. Then why didn’t you just walk me through the hallway?”

  “The Sisters’ are very private about their living space. They reflect in silence and don’t like to be disturbed. I didn’t want you inadvertently upsetting them.”

  “Thanks for that. They probably already think I’m awful for the whole cell phone thing.”

  Father Mike stifled a smile. “Yes, well, I’d be lying if I said it hasn’t come up.”

  “Well, maybe this will put me in their good graces.” I took the folded envelope out of the back pocket of my jeans and handed it to him. “My volunteer application.”