Lilah’s eyes were wide with fear. Her breath came in shallow gasps. “They were just kids, Nick.”
He scrambled out of the car and stepped into a giant snowdrift. “Dammit,” he said, yanking his foot out. The road was deserted. No sign of anyone. He walked across, checking for tracks and found two sets of prints in the snow at the other side of the road. Lilah crunched through the snow behind him.
“They looked so scared,” she said, her breath coming in rasps. “Why didn’t they wait. We could’ve helped them.”
They’d taken off in the direction of Ike Dewar’s place, probably dodging through the thick forest of spruce and pine.
“I guess they just didn’t want to be found,” he said, turning to check out the car. “Anyway, they’re not far away from town and tonight’s pretty mild compared to what we usually get here.”
She was shivering and staring out into the darkness.
“You OK?” he said, putting his arms around her. She rested her head on his chest so he could feel her whole body trembling. “Want me to drive?”
“I’ll be all right,” she said, “but I might need a push to get me free.”
There was no damage to the car. Just a rad full of snow. Soon they were back on the road, coasting slowly in case the kids showed up again. At Main Street Lilah pulled up behind Nick’s car, then leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes. “Seeing those kids really shook me up, Nick.”
“They were probably just coming from some party. Kids do pretty stupid things at that age.”
“Suppose I hadn’t stopped. I would’ve run right over them.”
Nick felt a kind of sick chill when he thought of what might have been. All the chaos that would’ve ensued if she hadn’t stopped. And suddenly for no reason at all, Allie and Tay’s pale faces loomed up into his consciousness. “You sure you want to live way out there and do that drive every day, Lilah? There’s probably someplace closer to town.”
She shook her head. “I love that house. When I walked in there it felt like I was home,” she said, smiling again. “And don’t worry. That’s gonna make me extra careful.”
“You up for a drink at Rusty’s?” he said. His dry throat was sorely in need of a cold beer.
“I think I just need a quiet night,” she said. “I’m beat.”
“See you tomorrow?”
“Sure,” she said, leaning over and pecking him on the cheek. “Pick me up at my shop.” Her lips were cool and soft.
“Be ready at seven and dress warm,” he said, feeling an unfamiliar ache in his throat as he climbed out.
Her car swished away, and he stood there feeling like every inch of his body had come alive. Fear, apprehension, breathless excitement. He’d been coasting though his dull, predictable life on auto-pilot. But now the future lay ahead filled with uncertainty, mystery and an intangible thread of danger.
7
At the crack of dawn Nick woke up sweating, his mind racing from the fog of a muddled dream. He’d been speeding down a one-lane road – so narrow the trees scraped the sides of the car. Allie and Tay flashed like ghostly apparitions from the roadside, their eyes gleaming out from the darkness like feral cats. But someone else was in the car behind him. Someone with a rough, raspy voice telling him to floor the shit out of it. So the car kept going and he woke up just as their eyes engulfed him, magnified like giant saucers in the glare of the headlights.
He stumbled out of bed, tripped over jeans, shoes, sweaters and a half eaten plate of nachos and cheese. The bedroom was an oven, the air charged with the stink of unwashed socks – or maybe sour Monterey Jack cheese. He made a mental note to turn down the thermostat and pick up some scented candles. Streaks of orange and red slashed the sky between the trees outside, but his eyes burned in their sockets and his head throbbed from one too many beers at Rusty’s. He should’ve gone home after Lilah dropped him off but he hadn’t wanted to sit like a pathetic loser alone in front of the television.
He rummaged through the cupboards and put on the coffee, remembering with a sudden jolt that the winter hayride was that night. His first official date with Lilah. He had to get himself into shape quickly – get the adrenalin flowing.
After a sad attempt at a morning run, in which he spent more time on his ass in the snow than on his feet¸ he stumbled inside the front door, his breath coming in painful rasps. It was time to pull out the Universal Gym that was rusting away in the spare room, ban Rusty’s Fatburgers and actually incorporate flax, arugula and kale into his daily diet, and drink as many glasses of water as cups of coffee. The most hopeful sign that things were turning around was the urge he felt to get back to the office and work on the investigative article. That was the only way the hours would pass quickly until he saw Lilah again.
An hour and three Aspirins later, he climbed into his car, a new man with a firm mission and the prospect of an unforgettable date. He was on edge, his nerves springy and alert. Main Street was bustling. The Beanery was crowded and Lilah’s place looked busy. Story Hour was underway in Violet’s bookstore, and Jake Hardy’s garage had a lineup of cars at the pumps. Even Tom Blessner’s Hardware Store and the Silver Narrows Bakery had a few more customers than usual.
He spent the first couple of hours making a sort of mind map of the disappearances. Like on those cop shows when the lead investigator pores for hours over an intricate web of photos, clues, evidence and general musings, then gets a sudden, miraculous insight and goes roaring out of his office like a lion with a sore tooth and single-handedly nabs the bad guy.
Nick had faith in his own intuition. He’d read so many crime novels and binged on Netflix thriller series. Surely that would count for something. And he’d come up with a system. First he’d free-write in the moleskin notebook, then he’d comb through the tangle of thoughts and record the important nuggets onto the chart, together with key details from the archives. But one thing was for sure – he had to get hold of the letter that Tay supposedly sent from Chicago. That meant he’d have to talk to Brad Brenner. An idea he didn’t relish. But as the only real evidence relating to Tay’s disappearance, it was essential.
He moved on to the next victim, Tara Nicholson. She was eighteen, and a high school senior when she disappeared. Blonde, pretty and popular with the whole world at her feet. The picture, intended for her high school year book, was accompanied by a caption that named her The girl most likely to marry Prince William. Her nickname was Rosy, her interests were cheerleading, puppies, pottery and boys, and her ambition was to become a vet. The final line was painful in its innocence: A dog is the only thing on earth that loves you more than you love yourself.
Nick felt a sharp sting of guilt. She was so much like the girls he’d dated and discarded so flippantly. She smiled out from the black and white pixilations, her eyes alight with dreams of the future, her expression shining with the unflagging confidence that the world was a fair and just place and all the people in it would treasure her as much as her own Mom and Dad. She hadn’t planned on meeting a careless hustler like himself or an immoral creep like Ray Gorman. Or worse, a vicious asshole like Ike Dewar.
He forced himself to keep reading, the back of his eyes stinging. Hell, he hadn’t cried in years. He’d been immune to any semblance of empathy. Now, since Lilah arrived, he couldn’t figure out why his mind was a jumble of crazy emotions.
He picked up the marker and began to make notes around the photo. Disappeared in June 2002, two days before her prom, “A” student, cheerleader, runner up for valedictorian, younger sister, Avery, parents still living in Silver Narrows. Would he have the balls to talk to them? He wasn’t sure yet. Seemed that Tara had gone to a grad party at a house in the lakeshore area and somehow never made it home. None of the kids from the party had noticed she was missing. No doubt they were too drunk to see anything by that time. Cold sweat beaded his forehead when he read the location of the party - Dr. Aaron Castle’s home. His son, Stephen, class of 2002, was hosting. The doctor was reported to b
e “horrified that his home had been connected with Tara’s disappearance and that it had occurred at such a joyous time in his son’s life.” No wonder the guy couldn’t wait to get out of town. Nick wondered how long the place had been empty. He made a mental note to ask Lilah or Gorman.
Search parties didn’t make it out until late the next day and no trace was found. The heavy rainfall at the time didn’t make it any easier for the tracker dogs. Days turned into weeks and months until the investigation finally sputtered out after years of fruitless searching.
Nick swung back on his chair, his hands clasped behind his head. Was it just a coincidence that he’d been in the actual house where Tara was last seen? And they’d run into those two frightened kids around that very same area. Something didn’t sit right. His mind racing, he began to make a list of things to do. Get a copy of Tay’s letter from Brad Brenner, speak to the Nicholsons, take a look around the forest near Castle’s old home – soon to be Lilah’s. He decided not to mention this new information to her. She’d been so shaken last night after seeing the kids, and he didn’t want to spoil her excitement about the new home.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. He printed out a map and put pins to mark the places where the kids were last seen. The first three were all scattered around the same side of town – in the area of Lilah’s new place. For that reason he took a huge movie poster from the closet and hung it over the chart. It would be his secret, for now. He’d even thought of some great opening paragraphs for the story, so with the words crowding like flames behind the door of a burning house, he focused on the blank Word document and let them out. The words blazed onto the page, each image clearer, sharper and more incisive than the one before it. So by the time four o’clock rolled he’d cracked four thousand words. Breathless with sheer elation, he realized he was onto something better than he’d ever done before.
Expending all that mental energy had left him famished, so he headed over to the Silver Narrows Bakery for a sandwich. Since he was due to pick Lilah up in a couple of hours he didn’t want to look like a voracious pig when he got there.
Annie Viklund and her husband Jim ran the bakery. It was strictly a small pickup operation. No café or eatery. But her sourdough bread was legendary as was the assortment of Scandinavian pastries and tortes. Swedish apple pies, Pepperkakor, Kringle cookies, Cheese Danish – filled the cases in the morning and were gone by four. They also served the best deli sandwiches stuffed with plenty of good smoked fish, meats and Scandinavian cheeses.
Annie had a round, pink face and mousy, brown hair always hidden by a limp hairnet. She was just about to put the “closed” sign up when he skidded up to the front door.
“Can I get a turkey on rye?” Nick said, scanning the cases and settling on a couple of lonely looking brownies still sitting there.
“Okay, I guess we can do one more for you, Nicky,” she said, slathering the bread with mayo. “But I have to get all prettied up for the Hayride tonight,” She winked as she added extra turkey. “I suppose you’ll be going with the new girl then?”
“How do you know?”
“Thought you’d know by now, Nick. You can’t keep a secret in Silver Narrows. Besides, Ray Gorman told me yesterday.” She said, handing him the sandwich. “And don’t you go breaking this girl’s heart.” She shook her finger at him.
“I’ll try not to,” he said, realizing that the eyes of the entire community were watching him. But as he crossed the street it occurred to him that maybe you could keep a secret here. There had to be someone here who was keeping the biggest secret of all. What had happened to those kids?
When six o’clock rolled around, Nick’s nerves were so raw he could barely zip up his parka. He stepped outside and looked around him. It was already well below zero, and the snow was falling in thick, feathery flakes. The stores were lit with colored lights and Christmas trees blazing with white lights were arranged all down the sidewalk. He always loved this time of year. It reminded him of carefree childhood Christmases when his dad got the ladder out and strung the lights across the garage and around the fir tree in the front yard. They’d even bought an illuminated snowman one year. Nick’s dad would always let him throw the switch and he loved when the lights burst into bright colour. Mom would bring out hot chocolate, then they’d hose an area of the back yard for a makeshift hockey rink where he’d shoot pucks with his dad. That was when hockey was something pure and innocent. Before his dad died and the bad times started. Dammit, why did he have to go? He thought and turned to lock the office door.
At Lilah’s store the lights were on upstairs, so he buzzed the apartment door. The intercom crackled. “Down in a minute,” she yelled.
He went back to the car and waited. A bunch of high school kids burst out from The Beanery. Probably heading for the hayride as well. They slouched by, nudging each other against the wall and kicking up snow. He sat up straighter when he saw the two kids from the road last night holding hands at the back of the group. It seemed strange that the others were lively and energized, while those two were dragging their feet like two old farts – as if they were both wasted. Again he wondered where they’d been coming from last night? And if it had anything to do with their present condition? It seemed too early to be so high.
A tapping at the car window jolted him from his thoughts. He looked up to see Lilah standing there, a vision in a white fur hat and cream parka. He clambered out and raced around the side of the car to hold the passenger door open.
“You look incredible,” he said as she settled herself. “Sorry it’s not a Mercedes, but it’s got four wheel drive which does come in handy here sometimes.”
Along the road to Ike Dewar’s heated barn, thick stands of white cedar and prickly jack pine were decked out with white lights. The snow sparkled, like a diamond encrusted blanket, dazzling Nick’s eyes. Ike always did a great job with the decorations, though Nick suspected that Madge spent the better part of a week scurrying around fixing the place up.
“It’s so gorgeous,” said Lilah. “Just how I pictured it would be.”
“Of course,” Nick said, taking in her shining face. “You’ve read all my Hayride stories.”
“I loved your descriptions,” she said, her face framed by the white fur trim of her hat. “Now I can’t believe I’m actually here.”
Her fascination transformed the evening into a magical fairytale, and he began to see those old familiar things with different eyes. Three huge wagons filled with hay bales stood waiting at the side of the barn. The glossy horses snorted misty spirals of breath as they stamped their feet impatiently. Nick’s senses were so heightened, he could’ve composed three great poems on the spot.
A golden glow spilled out from the barn as they entered to the sound of Cole Schuler’s band. Cole was the music teacher at the school. He usually rustled up a band that consisted of his top students and a few musical locals, including Danny Johnson on guitar. Cole was an expert fiddler and usually took the lead.
Nick threw the coats on the check table manned by Violet Olsen who directed a surreptitious wink at him as he took Lilah’s arm. Dressed in a soft creamy sweater and skintight jeans, her black hair fell in soft, shiny waves onto her shoulders and spilled down her back. He felt like the prom king with his queen. Every sense heightened, every nerve so close to the surface he was on sensory overload.
The place was jammed, but they carved a path through the crowd towards the refreshments table where Ike stood, resplendent in western boots, calfskin jacket, Stetson hat, and shoestring tie, proudly welcoming his guests. Madge stood by, a colorless slip of a thing in a red sweater that seemed two sizes too large for her. She kept sipping at a large glass of wine, and glancing around like a small rabbit on high alert for a skulking fox.
“Ike, you already know Lilah Beaumarche,” said Nick. Lilah stepped forward and offered her hand.
“Thanks for asking me,” she said, in a crisp, businesslike way.
“And I hear from reliabl
e sources you might become a neighbor of ours,” said Ike, moving to within spitting distance from her. Way too close for Nick’s liking.
“And this is Madge Dewar,” he said, trying to nudge Lilah away. Madge looked shocked, as if she wasn’t actually expecting to be introduced.
“Madge, I bet you had a big hand in all these decorations,” said Lilah, in a warm voice.
Madge looked up at Ike before responding. “Oh – well – Ike comes up with all the ideas.” Then she retreated back, behind his shoulder and continued gulping down the wine. Her eyes were hollow. The expression flat and resigned.
Ike held his arms out, almost elbowing Madge’s face in the process. “Eat, drink, dance, enjoy,” he proclaimed, like an emperor in his castle. “Ike Dewar doesn’t chintz nobody.”
Nick’s inner writer wanted to correct the faulty grammar, but he just put on a cheesy grin and steered Lilah towards the food table, regretting the turkey on rye when he saw the display of food. Meatballs, roast turkey, perogies, Swedish pancakes, pork ribs, beef rib roasts, salads of every description, roast, mashed and scalloped potatoes and every kind of vegetable imaginable.
Though Nick tried to shove down a plateful, Lilah commented on his delicate appetite. So he downed a couple of gin and sodas and the lights began to twinkle with even more magic.
“Want to dance?” he asked, as the band started up with a slower song.
“I was wondering when you’d ask, Mr. Hendricks,” she said, holding her hands out to him. He felt like Tony in the scene from West Side Story when he dances with Maria for the first time. All the other dancers fade into a blur around them, and they’re suspended in a golden bauble of light where only the two of them exist. Lilah rested her head against his chest and her whole body fit neatly into his. He barely dared to breathe as they moved around the dance floor. All he could think of was the moment when he could actually gather up the courage to kiss her.
Lilah Page 5