Liam made no move to leave. “How can you two just go home like everything’s fine?”
“I’m not going home. I’m going fishing,” Dani said. “And everything is fine. The more everyone sits around dreaming up gloomy scenarios—well, what’s the point?”
“Quinn is gone. That’s the point.”
Jessica stood up now, and still Liam didn’t move. Dani was beginning to think she was going to have to dump the random contents of her handbag to find her keys.
“Are you all right, cuz?” Dani’s pinkie finally grazed her key ring, and she hooked it through to bring the keys to the surface.
“I’m concerned about Quinn,” Liam said. “You should be, too.”
Jessica tapped Liam’s shoulder. “Dani already told you what she thinks. Quinn changed his mind. Come on. Let’s go. The night is young.”
Liam finally pushed his chair back and stood up in slow motion. Dani saw the sweat beading at his hairline, evidence of the great effort it took to compose his face.
The “innocent look,” Dani used to call it. When they were kids and somebody’s mother came looking for the pack of cousins to ferret out who had split open the bag of flour at the back of the pantry or let the puppy loose in the flower beds, a chorus of “Not me!” inevitably rang up. Liam made the same claim as the rest of them, but his face took on the carved stone expression it bore now. He looked like he was about to be found out for doing something naughty and pushing the blame to another suspect.
Maybe it was Liam’s guilty expressions that made Cooper decide to become a cop.
Cooper returned to the table now. “So that’s it, folks,” he said. “We can be on our way.”
“What did you find out?” Liam asked.
Cooper had a stone face of his own. Liam tried too hard to appear innocent. Cooper never gave anything away.
“They’ll find Quinn, or he’ll come home on his own,” Cooper said. “Everybody should just relax and go about their usual business.”
Dani looked at the trickle of people drifting toward the doors. Like Liam, most of the crowd seemed hesitant to abandon their tables. “People aren’t in a hurry to leave.”
“If they think they’re going to learn something by hanging around,” Cooper said, “they’ll be sorely disappointed. The cleanup crew will start any minute, and I promise you that will be the most exciting thing happening here.”
“See, Liam? Your own brother says there’s nothing to wait around for.” Jessica laid a hand on Liam’s chest. “What’s this lump?”
When she started to open his jacket, Liam grasped her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Something from a client.”
“You were working tonight?” she said.
“Just a chance encounter.”
Dani wasn’t going to get involved. Whatever was going on between Liam and Jessica was none of her business, but she wished they’d get their act together.
She would have to swing by her house in town and divest herself of the dress, but she could still drive out to the lake, sleep under the stars outside the cabin, and be ready to fish before dawn. Two days on the lake, or maybe three, and this would all blow over. She had not the least curiosity about the details. Dani wouldn’t be surprised to find Quinn on the shores of Whisper Lake, too. If she did, she wouldn’t interrogate him. His choice was his business, and Dani was the last person interested in demanding an explanation.
“The best thing any of you can do for Quinn,” Cooper said, “is depart in a normal manner. Set an example by not freaking out.”
Dani gripped her keys in her fist. “You don’t have to ask me twice.”
10:17 p.m.
“I’m going to change my shoes.” Lauren reached under her chair for her bag.
After more than half an hour since the mayor’s announcement, the hall was finally showing signs of emptying. Women gathered their wraps and bags. Men jangled keys.
“You carry spare shoes to a banquet?” Nicole bunched her features.
Lauren shrugged. “I always keep comfortable shoes handy. I don’t drive, so I have to be ready to walk.”
“You don’t have to walk. I’ll take you home.”
Lauren shook her head. “I don’t want to leave yet. I’m going to help clean up. Or something.”
Or something. Anything to stay around and feed her hope that this evening might yet have a happy ending. Flat black shoes with thick, grooved soles sat side by side in the base of her bag. Lauren pulled them out, exchanged them with the three-inch strapped heels, and examined the resulting effect.
“Not much of a fashion statement,” she said, “but efficient.”
Lauren stowed her bag on an out-of-the-way ledge before snagging a rolling cart with plenty of space to load dishes.
“I’m sure the caterer has people lined up to do that,” Nicole said. “They’ve already started with the tables in the back.”
“You miss the point.” Lauren transferred four coffee cups, six goblets, and three dessert plates to the cart. Then she bundled a white tablecloth and tossed it against the wall.
“You seem to know what you’re doing.” Nicole added two empty water pitchers to the cart.
“I used to work events like this in college.”
“You’re just waiting to talk to your aunt without the crowd around.”
“Ah, your reporter’s nose is in good working condition.” Lauren glanced around. “Where did Ethan disappear to?”
“Disappear might not be the best choice of words under the circumstances.” Nicole circled a table, picking up cloth napkins. “And the answer to your question is, I don’t know.”
“Are you guys going to figure out what this stuff is between you?”
“What do you mean?” Nicole tugged a tablecloth and tossed it into the laundry pile Lauren had begun.
“You invited him to sit at our table.”
“We had an empty seat.”
“I saw the way he was looking at you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes you do.” Lauren pushed the cart toward another table. “You should find him before he leaves.”
“Maybe he already has.”
Lauren didn’t think so. Ethan ate his dinner, but he spent much of the evening watching Sylvia’s movements. He was as puzzled and concerned as Lauren was. As Nicole was. As Sylvia was. As Miles was.
Cooper Elliott was oddly calm about the whole business. Was that his professional demeanor, or did he genuinely think the evening’s surprise meant nothing?
“He could have left, you know,” Lauren said.
“Ethan doesn’t owe me any explanation for his departure,” Nicole said.
“Quinn, I mean,” Lauren said. “I know he’s incredibly reliable, but it was no secret that he tried to avoid the attention of this banquet. When they first asked him, he said no. Three times.”
“I didn’t know that.” Nicole grabbed two goblets in each hand. “But eventually he said yes. Isn’t that what matters?”
“Even so, his hesitancy might mean something.”
Sylvia still wore her heels, and Lauren recognized the sound of her aunt’s determined steps as she crossed the stage one last time and picked up her notes from the podium.
“Did that sheriff’s deputy leave?” Lauren paused with another tablecloth gathered against her chest.
“Cooper? Yes. A while ago.” Sylvia folded her papers in half and pressed the crease.
“So he doesn’t think there’s … I don’t know, evidence or anything?”
“He had a look around backstage.” Sylvia descended the steps and approached Lauren and Nicole. “But there was no sign of disturbance other than that silly air cannon going off during my introduction. Everything was just the way it looked when I put Quinn’s mark on the floor myself.”
Lauren sat down. “So you think he left? Or should we be worried?”
Sylvia blew out her breath. “I have no idea. Cooper says they aren’t calling it foul
play because they have seen nothing to suggest Quinn didn’t leave of his own accord.”
“Other than being contrary to his character.” Nicole moved glasses around on the cart to make room for three more.
“And he didn’t go home.” Sylvia dug her fingertips into her closed eyelids. “I have a splitting headache.”
“You should go home and go to bed.” The weight of her aunt’s dismay shot pain through Lauren as well. “You don’t need to stay, do you?”
“There’s nothing left for me to do,” Sylvia said. “The caterer’s crew will finish up.”
“That’s what I said.” Nicole flashed Lauren a look.
“I saw Ethan in the foyer a few minutes ago,” Sylvia said to Nicole. “Maybe he’s waiting for you.”
“I don’t know why he would be,” Nicole said.
“Don’t you?” Lauren taunted.
“Quinn was so glad the two of you came,” Sylvia said. “I’m sorry he didn’t get to see you sitting together.”
The moment thickened. Lauren had a hard time breathing. Ethan and Nicole had known Quinn far better than Lauren had when they were teenagers—and they’d had each other. Jealousy washed through her.
Nicole rolled her eyes. “Fine. Just to suit the two of you, I will go say good night to Ethan.” She took her purse and crossed the banquet room.
Lauren saw the slope of Sylvia’s shoulders fall as, silent, the two of them watched Nicole’s swift progress. Was it possible for a person to look a year older in just one evening?
“Go home, Aunt Sylvia.” Lauren reached out and squeezed her aunt’s hand. “Try to get some sleep.”
“I’ll take you home first,” Sylvia said.
“No. I think I want to walk.”
“It’s late for walking, Lauren. Past ten thirty.”
“I already changed my shoes.” Lauren held up one foot. “I’ll get the pepper spray out of my bag and make sure it’s in my hand. Promise.”
“Okay. But don’t stay much longer. Let the caterer do her job. She gets nervous about people who aren’t on the payroll handling her dishes.”
Lauren watched her aunt stop to thank the caterer and smile at the waitstaff. Sylvia could hold herself together in a crisis, but Lauren was sorry she had to showcase that particular character trait tonight.
Sylvia and Quinn. Quinn and Sylvia. People in Hidden Falls could hardly say one name without the other.
Lauren’s turn to put on a good face would come tomorrow morning at Our Savior Community Church. Quinn didn’t even like recognition for everything he did for the congregation—like organizing next week’s health fair. News would spread overnight to anyone who wasn’t present for the banquet. And if Quinn didn’t appear in the morning to make the health fair announcement at church, Lauren would have to bluff her way through it. No one would be listening to the pastor’s sermon that followed. Quinn’s absence would have people whispering and wondering.
Walking briskly would burn through the energy amassing in Lauren’s muscles for the last two and a half hours. No matter what the time, she knew she wasn’t going to sleep anytime soon if she didn’t discharge the concern creeping through her body. The humor she had first seen in the empty spotlight had dissipated hours ago. Anticipation for the antics Quinn might have planned morphed into apprehension. Even if he was physically safe, what must be his mental state to make him do the unthinkable?
Lauren didn’t require words to pray. She needed movement. She would move hard and pray hard all the way home.
Tossing the tablecloth in her lap onto the heap against the wall, Lauren stood and paced to the ledge where she had left her bag. She looped it across her shoulders and took out the pepper spray, something she carried so she could honestly tell her anxious mother that she did. The waitstaff had dispatched their cleanup tasks with efficiency and now rolled one cart after another into the kitchen on the far side of the hall. Through the open door, Lauren heard water running and dishes rattling. She lifted a hand to wave at Zeke and wondered if she would see him in church the next morning.
Lauren didn’t expect to find Nicole and Ethan still in the foyer. The lights, perhaps on a timer, had dimmed. With her hands behind her back, Nicole leaned on the push bar of one door, as if any second she planned to put her weight into the motion and make her exit.
“You’re still here,” Lauren said.
A look passed between Nicole and Ethan. Lauren stifled a smile. Something good might yet come out of this evening.
“We got to talking,” Nicole said.
“Don’t let me interrupt,” Lauren said. One day Nicole and Ethan could joke with Quinn that if he hadn’t made his secret escape they wouldn’t have gotten together.
That is, if Quinn had made a secret escape, and if, given enough time, anyone could find the humor in it.
“I’d better get going.” Lauren adjusted the strap that crossed her chest.
“Are you sure you should walk?” Nicole said.
“Positive.” Lauren had never been one for praying on her knees. “I live on Main Street, above the barbershop. It’s not that far.”
“I guess it’s all relative to how much you’re used to walking,” Ethan said.
Lauren could do it in thirty minutes, especially if she took a shortcut or two, but tonight she was more likely to lengthen the walk than concern herself with efficiency.
“Church tomorrow is at nine thirty,” Lauren said, “in case you’re interested.”
Ethan smiled politely. “No thanks.”
“Maybe.” Nicole pushed on the bar behind her at last.
The trio stepped into the night, where the security light on the pole above threw radiance around them while its glare deepened the blackness beyond.
“Well, good night. It was nice to see you both.” Lauren maneuvered past Nicole and Ethan, since neither of them seemed inclined to move beyond the sidewalk.
11:14 p.m.
“How did we end up being the last ones here?” Glad for its warmth, Nicole pulled out her coat, draped it around her shoulders, and let the car door close softly behind her. She should have been on her way home—or in the old house getting ready for bed—by now. Instead, she leaned against her vehicle and raised her eyes to meet Ethan Jordan’s.
Ten years.
Nicole had not seen Ethan or Quinn in that time, and in one evening her heart ached for them both. She couldn’t see through Ethan’s eyes the way she used to. He protected whatever was inside him now. And Quinn. A gasp slid past Nicole’s lips.
“What is it?” Ethan said.
“I don’t know what I was thinking,” she said. “I always meant to come back to Hidden Falls for a real visit. Scooting in and out of town for Christmas with my dad or a Father’s Day lunch doesn’t count.”
“You’re way ahead of me.” Ethan leaned against her car beside her.
Nicole inhaled deeply and pushed the air back out. She always told herself she would pop over and see Quinn the next time. And then her dad moved and there hadn’t been a next time in the last four years.
Nicole looked away from Ethan. It seemed like another lifetime, those years of living next door to Ethan and the two of them slipping through the fence to traipse across Quinn’s expansive backyard, leap the three steps to his patio, and knock on his back door. She thought of the time her editor asked where she would go if she could go back in time for a day. Nicole would choose one of those days, one of those exquisite moments perfectly cradling the weariness of two lonely children and calling to the wholeness deep within them.
“I don’t even want to imagine the mess I would have grown up to be if I hadn’t known Quinn,” Nicole said softly. “I wish I had been more grateful.”
“Don’t use the past tense,” Ethan said. “You heard what Cooper and Sylvia said. No sign of foul play.”
“Then what happened?” Nicole slipped her arms into her coat sleeves.
“I don’t know.” Ethan’s hands went into his pockets.
“It
’s hard for Quinn to be the center of attention, but I thought he looked genuinely happy to see people tonight.”
Ethan nodded. “I’m certain he intended to go through with the evening.”
“I heard him say he wanted to talk to you later.”
“Eavesdropping?”
“Occupational hazard.”
Ethan put a hand inside his suit jacket and pulled out an envelope. “It’s too dark here for you to read this, but it’s from Quinn. I think he knew I would conveniently lose the dinner invitation, so he made sure I knew he wanted to see me.”
Nicole inspected the handwriting on the outside of the envelope. Even in the shadows where they stood, she could see that the slope and shape of the lettering were Quinn’s. Envy pinged her chest, knowing that Ethan held something that had been in Quinn’s hands so recently—and that he had received a personal plea to attend.
“He has something to tell me.” Ethan took the envelope from her hand. “I don’t have a clue what it is, but he was insistent that I come to the banquet.”
Nicole buttoned her coat. “We know him better than just about anybody. And I think we know that Quinn wouldn’t ditch an event like this.”
Ethan shrugged. “We were kids. I don’t fool myself into thinking I know everything about him. We don’t know why he never drives beyond the county line, for instance.”
“No one cares about that,” Nicole said. “It’s just Quinn.”
“To kids, it’s just the way things were. Now I wonder what it means.”
“It doesn’t have to mean anything more than he has a happy life in Hidden Falls,” Nicole said. “We experienced his true character. He’s warm, compassionate, solid, generous.”
“People change.”
Yes, they do, Nicole thought. Ethan had changed, after all. So much about him was familiar, recognizable. A habit rutted deep in her muscles made Nicole want to reach for his hand. Yet she stood beside a man she barely knew. She plunged her hands into her coat pockets.
Aloud she said, “You can’t just turn off core traits.”
Ethan didn’t respond.
Nicole spoke. “You can’t think Quinn would turn into a different kind of person—unless you think it’s something in his brain.”
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