In the meantime, no more gifts—alcohol or otherwise—had showed up on the deck, and that evening after I’d been shopping for food, I decided to concentrate on the cabin updates. It didn’t take long to fix the front door hinges, take up the bedroom carpets, and prime the tiny bathroom and kitchen for their first coats of new paint. At around eight o’clock I heard a vehicle come up the dirt track, my senses going into overdrive until I saw Ethel’s car.
“Thought I’d come and see how you’re doing,” she called out, waving at me. “Bill said he’s working you to the bone, but I see you’re still standing.”
“It’ll take more than that,” I said, thankful I’d had the foresight to stuff the beer cans in a bag and drop them in the recycling on the way to work. I didn’t need Ethel spotting twenty-four empties and drawing incorrect conclusions. “Did you stop by the cabin yesterday?”
“No, I’ve been rushed off my feet at the café. This weather has brought more customers than usual, not that I’m complaining. How are you settling in?”
“Very well, thanks.”
“Music to my ears. I hope you’ll stay in Faycrest. We need people like you.”
“Me?” I said as we walked up the front steps.
She patted my arm, gave me another smile. “Hardworking, trustworthy and... My gosh.” Ethel pointed to the rolls of old, dusty, blue carpet I’d stacked outside the window. “You’ve taken it all up already? Don’t tell me you’ve painted, too, because it smells like it.”
“Only primed so far.”
“You’ve been here five minutes.”
“It helps when you have no internet. I never knew how much time I wasted on YouTube. Glass of water?”
“Please. I don’t deal with the heat so well anymore.” Ethel fanned her face with a hand. “Have you heard a bad storm’s brewing? Can’t come soon enough if you ask me. At least it’ll clear the air. You’ll let me know if there are any leaks, won’t you?”
“Once I’ve fixed them.”
Ethel laughed. “You see? Hardworking and trustworthy. I hope you’re not finding it too cutoff out here?”
“Not at all.”
“You’re sure? I mean, I know we’re not far from town, but you can’t tell, looking out of the window. Always seemed I was in the middle of nowhere. Al would’ve lived here, if I’d let him. In fact, he did once or twice when the old chump was in the doghouse.”
“Uh-oh. Sounds serious.” I chuckled and filled two glasses with water. The way Ethel talked about her husband made me think how my parents’ relationship would have been, had they grown old together. Or mine and Grace’s...
“Ah, well. It’s bound to happen once in a while over forty years.” She took the drink from me. “Thank you. I thought you might be lonely out here, being used to the city and all.”
“Not really.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, honestly, I’m too busy.”
She looked at me, wrinkled her nose and let out a sigh. “Alright, Josh. You’re not taking the bait and I’m not getting any younger, so I’m just going to have to come out and say it. Do you recall me mentioning Felicia?”
“Your goddaughter? Yes, of course,” I said, unable to hide a look of surprise.
“I was wondering if you two would want to go for dinner.”
I laughed at her directness until the implication of the suggestion hit me. “I’m not sure—”
“Before you say anything else, I’m not matchmaking. Trust me, I know you lost your partner and I’m not that uncouth.”
I quickly batted the images of Emily away. “I’m not ready for anything—”
“Of course not, but you and Felicia are about the same age, and...well, to be perfectly honest she could do with going out once in a while. She’s only ever at the clinic, or at home. I can’t remember the last time she did anything else despite my offers to babysit.”
“Well, I—”
“I think you might enjoy each other’s company, that’s all. And don’t forget Felicia can fill you in on the schools around here, so you’d know what to expect for young Logan.”
I leaned against the wall, crossed my arms as I felt my pulse quicken. This could be my shot at getting Felicia’s DNA, and with a bit of luck, I’d be back in Albany for good by the weekend. Taking her for dinner under false pretenses was wrong, but my entire reason for being in Faycrest was hardly saintlike. How much difference could adding another lie to the steaming pile really make?
Ethel held her hands up, palms facing outward. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have suggested it. It was just a thought. Forgive me? I—”
“Nothing to forgive and you’re right. I could do with the company.”
“Marvelous,” she said, handing me a piece of paper. “Felicia’s number. Why don’t you phone, text or do whatever it is young people do these days? She’ll be glad you called. Now, let’s have a look at those paint colors.”
After we’d said our goodbyes, I stayed on the deck until the sun went down, the cold nibbling at my fingertips, and all that time, the piece of paper with Felicia’s number felt as if I’d filled my pocket with embers.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Bill filled the next day with back-to-back landscaping appointments that kept my mind busy, and my time limited. By midafternoon I still hadn’t called Felicia, and when I finally pulled out her number, Bill offered to go over the yard sketches and estimates I’d put together for Emily after I couldn’t get to sleep the night before. Thirty minutes later I was on my way home, but changed my mind and continued past the turnoff to the cabin and toward Emily’s house instead.
I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel, telling myself the strange fluttering I felt in my stomach was indigestion from the pulled-pork sandwich Bill had split with me for lunch, and which had almost been the size of my head. Truth was, I could have been a kid on a trip to the fairground, and I found myself changing into my pair of clean shoes when I parked the truck. I rang the bell, attempting hide my disappointment when Tyler opened the door.
He looked slick in his dark suit, black shirt and tie, his hair newly cut, his stance assertive. The role of police consultant suited him, and I had no doubt he commanded the room, had people literally on the edge of their seats, listening to his every word. From what I’d read, the number of cases he took on where they found the missing kid alive was incredibly high. Knowing I might have his son, was doing this tenth-rate detective crap, filled me with exactly zero self-confidence. If Logan was Alex King or Hunter Rhodes, I might well face Tyler in an interrogation room, or at the very least he’d be watching my every move from behind a two-way mirror. Quite frankly the thought scared the shit out of me.
“Yes?” he said with a frown.
“I’m Josh Andersen. I work for Bill Langham.”
He held out a hand, his grip the kind that oozed authority, and flashed a smile. It made him look completely different in an instant: the kind, generous next-door neighbor, a person you could trust, someone to rely on. “Tyler Rhodes. Pleasure.”
“Same. Uh, is Mrs. Rhodes at home?”
“Not yet. Can I give her a message?”
I held out the white envelope with the drawings. “These are the yard designs for her.”
“Yard designs?” Tyler frowned again.
“She and I talked about them the other day.”
“Oh, yes. Emily mentioned something.” He took the documents and set them on the chest of drawers behind him without a further glance. “I’ll let her know you stopped by.”
“Thanks.” Maybe it was a sudden flash of inspiration, or the fact I’d suddenly remembered my reason for coming to Faycrest in the first place, but I added, “Would you mind if I check your mower? It didn’t start properly the other day and I should—”
Tyler’s phone rang. “I’d better get this,” he said as he looked at
it. “But go right ahead.”
He flashed his perfect teeth again, and it irked me. His confidence and suave appearance felt slick, too practiced. I recalled one of his recent interviews in which he’d been asked if he’d ever consider running for government, and now I knew why. He’d be perfect. Although I was man enough to admit seeing his expensive house while I lived on my own in a decrepit cabin in the woods was making my male pride roar, not to mention the fact I had a bit of a pathetic crush on his wife. Like him or not, I reminded myself as I walked to the back of the house toward the shed, the guy was a hero.
“Finding missing children helps with the pain of losing Alex and my son,” he’d said in another interview I’d seen. “Making sure other parents can be spared what we’ve been through, what we’re still going through. Knowing their little ones are back at home, tucked up in bed... Trust me, there’s no better feeling.”
He’d also said he’d never give up searching for Hunter or Alex, regularly held appeals for witnesses, maintained the websites and social media profiles he’d created, begged people to send anonymous tips, organized poster drives, had updated sketches of the boys drawn. I’d studied each one in detail, showed them to Ivan and Lisa, and we’d agreed they didn’t look like Logan, no more than many other brown-haired seven-year-old boys did. The eyes were too far apart, the forehead too big, the nose too narrow. “Because Logan isn’t Hunter or Alex,” Lisa had insisted. “He can’t be.”
As I opened the shed door, I decided I was being an obnoxious asshole for taking an unjustified disliking to Tyler. His son had been kidnapped, for Christ’s sake. I couldn’t imagine what the guy was going through, how he’d carried on when each of his words and gestures were scrutinized and judged, not only by his family and friends, colleagues and the press, but also by the court of public opinion. And me.
I wondered if Tyler had ever blamed Emily for what had happened to the Faycrest boys, or even suspected her of somehow being involved. Had he tapped her phone, lifted her prints, insisted she take a polygraph? Although, as I’d discovered in my hours of research, plenty of innocent people failed lie detector tests, especially when a child vanished. It was the guilt that did it. Not because they’d had anything to do with the disappearance, but, as Ethel had said, because they felt they should have been there to stop it from happening, or at least sensed the danger somehow.
Parents, I’d learned, were almost always suspects when kids went missing. Emily and Tyler, Felicia and Gavin, they’d all been interviewed, questioned and requestioned. Nothing suspicious ever came to light, and when the police uncovered one of the handymen who’d been working on the renovations at the Rhodes house had a record, the focus shifted to him for a while, despite his rock-solid alibi and repeated claims of innocence.
Walking toward the mower, my animosity tipped a little to pity before settling somewhat closer to admiration. The fact Tyler and Emily were still together was a testament to their relationship. Through all of this they’d somehow managed to keep the shreds of their marriage together, which had to count for something. And, I repeated to myself, it also meant I had to stop thinking about another man’s wife.
I knelt down in front of the mower, pretending to check it out for a few seconds. It had started fine the other day, but I’d hoped I might get Emily’s DNA from something in the shed, a glove maybe, or a stray hair band. After a few moments I knew it was a lost cause, and I didn’t have the guts to wait until Tyler left and attempt a burglary of their home. It was Thursday, which meant I’d been in Faycrest for almost a week and hadn’t yet accomplished either of my goals. Time to change that. I closed up the shed, pulled out my phone and dialed.
“Felicia King.”
“Felicia, hello. It’s Josh Andersen. From Ethel’s cabin.”
“Oh, hi. I didn’t think you’d actually call...” Her laugh was warm, friendly. “Oh, boy, that sounded lame. Look, I’m sorry Ethel’s been interfering. First she offers you the cabin—”
“For which I was grateful...”
“Sure. Until you saw the work it needs.” She laughed again. “Now she’s organizing us ‘young kids’ as she called me earlier... Josh, no doubt you’ll find my godmother, witty and charming as she may be, is extraordinarily meddlesome. God bless her. And her scones.”
“Especially her scones,” I said, and forced a grin. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“Oh, no, you misunderstand,” Felicia said quickly. “Ethel is also annoyingly right, because I’d love to go out for a bite to eat.”
“You would?”
“With the living legend of Faycrest? Yes. Plus it’ll shut Ethel up, and it’ll make a change to talk to someone who doesn’t look up an animal’s backside for a living.”
“Can’t say that’s ever been a burning desire,” I said, pausing for a second before deciding I had nothing to lose. “I’m heading back to Albany for the weekend tomorrow. I don’t suppose you’re free this evening? I know it’s short notice, but—”
“I’m sure it’s fine. Ethel’s always bugging me to spend more time with my daughter. Shall I choose a place? Is there anything you don’t want to eat?”
“Tripe, liver and kidneys?” I offered.
“Ugh, tell me about it,” Felicia said. “Take it from me, being a vet puts you off meat. I’ll check with Ethel and text you my address. Can you meet me there at seven?”
“That works. I’m looking forward to it.”
“Me, too,” she said. “And I promise I won’t bore you with a million animal stories.”
I laughed. “No worries. See you later. Bye, Felicia.”
When I hung up and slipped my phone in my pocket, a small movement caught my eye. I looked toward the house, my gaze darting up until it settled on Tyler, who observed me from the open window upstairs. I raised my hand in a wave, but instead of returning the gesture, he looked at me for another few seconds, turned away and disappeared.
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
It was almost five thirty when I left Emily and Tyler’s house, more than enough time to head to the cabin for a shower and change of clothes before meeting Felicia. I rehearsed a number of topics and questions in my mind as I drove to ensure we didn’t run out of things to say. Her cutting the evening short before I’d completed my mission would be a disaster. I cataloged the ways of getting a DNA sample, too: a straw, a cigarette butt or discarded gum.
The various scenarios sped through my mind as I drove to the other side of town, past Bill’s and toward the turnoff to the cabin. About four hundred yards farther on I slowed down when I spotted a white Toyota stopped by the side of the road. Emily, wearing another long, pastel flower-patterned dress, was crouched down, her hair up in a ponytail, her arm stretched out underneath the vehicle. I got out of my truck and jogged over.
“Hi, Emily,” I said.
“Oh, hi, Josh.” She smiled as she put a hand above her eyes to block out the sun.
I knelt down beside her. “Car trouble?”
Emily nodded and stuck her hand back underneath the car. “Heat shield fell off again. It’s stuck.” She wrestled with the offending object some more, finally pulling it free. “The damn thing came off last week already, and the garage didn’t put it back on properly. It punctured my tire when it came off this time.” She stood up and opened the back passenger door, shoved the shield behind the seat. “Were you on your way home?”
“Yeah, I just came from your house.”
“Really?”
“Uh-huh...” The heat prickled the back of my neck. Damn it, her gaze was intense, her eyes—a deep shade of turquoise—almost rendering me incapable of formulating coherent sentences. “You know, for the yard designs. I gave them to Tyler.”
“Tyler was home?” she said with a frown.
I shrugged. “Let me know what you think of the designs, and we’ll go over them whenever you’re ready.”
“We could grab a drink at Casa Mama, if you’re free?”
“That would be... Oh, no, I can’t.” I shook my head. “I’m having dinner with Felicia.” I have no idea why I told her. The words had a will of their own, spilling from my mouth like floodwater over a riverbank, and I felt the urge to justify. “Ethel suggested it so she can fill me in on the schools.”
Emily nodded. “You’ll have a great evening. Felicia’s lovely and very involved with the school, so you’ll definitely get the inside scoop. Anyway, I’d better get this tire changed.”
“Can I help?”
“That’s okay. I don’t want to keep you. I’ve been doing it since I was twelve.”
I grinned. “You’ve got me beat. I was thirteen.”
“My dad taught me. He said he never wanted his daughter to be a damsel in distress.”
“He’s a wise man.”
She smiled. “Yes, he is, so how did you learn about cars? Was it your dad, too?”
“God, no, he only cared about knowing how to drive, not how the car worked,” I said, laughing at the distant memory. “Mind you, he had the same philosophy about the tin opener. Although I’m pretty sure he’d be very unhappy if I abandoned someone by the side of the road with a flat. Want to take the lead and tell me how to assist?”
“Sure, why not?” She smiled as she walked to the trunk of her car and took out the jack. “Watch and learn. You might be able to teach your dad a trick or two after all.”
“I wish I could. He’s been gone almost twenty years.”
Emily’s eyes widened. “Oh, gosh. I’m so sorry. What happened?”
“It’s a very long story, and not a particularly happy one,” I said.
“We’ve got time,” Emily said. “If you want to talk about it.”
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