Hidden Falls (46 page)

“Let me just check that new lock again.” Dani didn’t like the way it was sticking. A new lock shouldn’t do that. If she had to take it back to the hardware store, she would, but she hoped it would smooth out because she wanted to get a good hike in that afternoon.

Sylvia handed Dani the shiny keys. Dani had replaced both locks, front and rear. She saw no point in replacing only the compromised back lock when the front one was just as pitiful as the one the thief violated. While she was at it, she drilled into the antique doors and added deadbolts. It was the back deadbolt that refused to turn without a minor wrestling match.

Dani put the key in the questionable lock and met with resistance. The same key worked effortlessly in the front lock. She went back into the store for her toolbox. She’d have to take the lock out of the door to get a good look. When she had it out, she laid the pieces on Sylvia’s desk and examined them. The mold on the bolt was off just slightly along an almost invisible seam, she decided. But it wasn’t worth the bother of taking the assembly back down the street when Dani could file off the offending protrusion and be on her way.

The lights went out.

“Hey, I’m still back here,” Dani called.

“I know,” Sylvia answered. “I didn’t touch anything.”

“Flashlight?”

“In the bottom left desk drawer.”

Dani felt her way around the desk and rummaged for the grooved cylinder of the light. It went on with one touch of the button, and she went to the breaker box. All the switches were properly aligned, which is what she expected. If every light in the store went out at the same time, the problem was likely the utility company’s. She stepped out the rear door of the shop and saw heads poking out doors into the alley.

“It’s the whole block,” she called to Sylvia.

Dani picked up the pieces of the lock, along with her toolbox, and carried everything to the front of the store.

Sylvia had kept the front shades down ever since Jack Parker and Liam Elliott descended on her two days ago, but now she pulled the cord to raise them and allow daylight through the display window.

“They’ll probably have the power back on in a couple of minutes,” Sylvia said.

“As soon as I get this lock back in, we’ll be finished, anyway.” Dani took a metal file from her toolbox, discerned the protrusion with one finger, and began filing it off.

Sylvia locked the shade into the up position and released the cord. On its arc down, her hand caught the edge of a display shelf in the window, part of Lizzie’s arrangement, and a mirror with only a slight scratch in the frame now tumbled to the wood floor.

Dani and Sylvia both jumped back from the shards.

“Wouldn’t you know it,” Sylvia said, “just when we thought everything was under control.”

“It’ll be fine.” Dani reached under the counter where she knew she would find a small broom and dustpan because she had put them there only two hours ago. She began to sweep up the glass.

“Thank you,” Sylvia said.

Dani glanced up. Sylvia sounded exhausted—and why shouldn’t she? Quinn gone. Her shop wrecked. One person after another asking something of her all week. Constant phone calls. Even a temporary power loss would aggravate most people with a lot less on their plates than Sylvia.

“You’ll be glad when things are back to normal,” Dani said. Getting the shop open was the first step.

“What’s normal?” Sylvia asked.

“Good question.”

“Having Quinn back would help a lot.” Sylvia’s voice wavered for a fraction of a second. “Everyone’s nerves would settle down if we just had a few answers about him.”

Even for Sylvia, Dani wasn’t going to be the one to reveal that she had tracked Quinn to St. Louis. Dani wanted a peaceful hike this afternoon, not an interrogation from her cousin the deputy about how she came to have the information that Quinn was spending money in St. Louis.

“Quinn will come back,” Dani said. “When he’s ready, he’ll tell you all you need to know.”

“
Need
being the key word,” Sylvia said.

“He’s okay.” Dani dumped the broken glass into the trash can Sylvia held in place for her.

“I know you think that,” Sylvia said. “At this point, it’s hard to know what to believe.”

Dani turned back to the lock and ran a finger over the smooth edge she’d created.

The lights came back on.

“See, I told you.” Dani blinked at the sudden brightness. “I’ll just pop this back in.”

“Thanks again for all your help.”

Dani walked to the back of the store while Sylvia rearranged the items in the window.

The lock worked now. Dani had one more stop before she could find a trail. She loaded her tools behind the seat in her Jeep and drove over to Liam’s office. As she went around the corner at the top of the stairs, she wondered if Jack Parker had come up with anything on the address he’d shown Sylvia. In the end, it wouldn’t matter if he found anything, because Dani’s efforts had been fruitful—at least partially. As soon as she told Liam what she knew, he would tell Sylvia, and Dani wouldn’t have to be in the middle of any of it.

She was surprised to find the door to Liam’s office locked and the lights obviously off. He was notorious for leaving the lights on even when he went home for the night. She silently congratulated him for turning them off just for an errand or an appointment.

Dani pulled out her cell phone and selected Liam’s number. After four rings, his voice came on with a cheery encouragement to leave a message.

As a matter of principle, Dani didn’t leave voice messages. It was enough aggravation to have to listen to them in order to earn a living.

She found somebody’s business card in her vest pocket and jotted a note.

Have news. Will come by tonight.
—D

Dani slid the card under the door.

2:07 p.m.

She knew his name, and she knew his parents’ names. Lauren made steady progress down her list. Three phone updates assured her Benita was doing well with hers, too. But simmering below every check mark, every note, every star was determination that this time she wasn’t going to withdraw into a shell for someone else’s amusement. When the simmering crossed into boiling, Lauren couldn’t leave the task on the back burner for another hour.

The outdated phone book in her office at the church yielded an address. Lauren estimated a twenty-seven minute walk, less if she burst into powerwalk mode as soon as she hit the curve where Main Street bent into Tabor Avenue and the shops gave way to wide, stately homes west of town. She didn’t care if she arrived a sweaty mess. Marching out there, telling Nevin Morgan to leave her alone unless he wanted to hear from the sheriff, and marching back to her apartment could be accomplished in an hour. Lauren wasn’t interested in conversation. She only wanted closure. If her legs went rubbery when it was all over, so be it. One way or another she was going to be through with this.

Lauren didn’t intend to be rude. Just firm, unwavering.

As she paced down the sidewalk, she formed her sentences.

I’m not seventeen anymore. I know it’s okay to stand up for myself, and I’ll do it.

I have every right to expect to live my life without harassment, and I’m here to ask you to respect that right.

If you choose to persist, I will take action.
Maybe Jack Parker’s professional services would come in handy after all.

Consider this a cease and desist order. If I have to ask again, it will be in writing from my attorney.

Yes. Jack would love an excuse to bury somebody in legalese. How much could it cost to get an attorney to write a couple of threatening letters?

Lauren’s speed slowed a bit when she took the final turn onto the street where the Morgans lived.

“
Let your gentleness be evident to all.
” Lauren exhaled. Those weren’t her words. They belonged to the apostle Paul, who clearly had never met Nevin Morgan.

But he’d met a lot of other people who wished him ill.

Okay, gentle. Gentle could still be firm. Gentle didn’t mean being a wimp. Gentle didn’t mean getting walked all over.

She wouldn’t make legal threats—yet. If he would listen, she would tell him how his calls made her feel. And if he wouldn’t, she would excuse herself—gently—and then decide what to do.

But living under a curtain of dread wasn’t an option.

Lauren could see the house now, just two doors down and across the street. A woman pushing a stroller came toward Lauren and smiled.

“What a beautiful day to be out walking.” The woman stopped and leaned over the stroller to straighten the green hat on her child’s head.

Lauren returned the smile, unsure what expression her face must have carried before the choice to be friendly. Anger? Tension? Fear?

The toddler in the stroller grinned up at her and swatted a spinning toy hanging in front of him Lauren squatted and jiggled the toy herself, sending the little boy into giggles.

“I won’t hold you up.” The woman gripped the stroller handle. “He’s going to be ready for a nap soon.”

“Have a lovely afternoon,” Lauren said, some of the tension out of her back. She was always surprised at the power of a simple beautiful moment.

“You, too.” The young mother looked both ways before crossing the street and angling toward a white house with blue trim.

The Morgan house? She couldn’t possibly be headed there. Lauren followed a few yards behind, until she was certain the woman was going up the walk to the Morgan front door.

“Wait,” Lauren called out.

The woman rotated.

“I’m looking for the Morgan house. Do you know where they live?”

“Right here. I’m Becky Morgan.”

Lauren didn’t remember that Nevin had a sister. A cousin, then?

“It’s Nevin I’m looking for,” Lauren said.

“My husband?”

She was his
wife
? This adorable three-toothed baby was his?

Lauren licked her lips. “I’m Lauren. We were in high school together. I haven’t seen Nevin in a long time, but I thought I spotted him in town this morning.”

“You probably did. He met someone for breakfast, but the baby was fussing so I stayed home.”

“Is Nevin home now?”

Becky gestured toward the empty driveway. “No, but I just asked him to go for diapers. He should be back soon.”

“I’ll come back in a few minutes then.” Lauren stepped back. Maybe she wouldn’t return. It hadn’t occurred to her that he might not be home, or that there might be an audience for her outpouring, whatever its tone turned out to be.

“Don’t be silly,” Becky said. “Come in. I’ll put the baby down for his nap, and we’ll have some tea.”

“I don’t want to intrude.”
What about his parents?
Lauren thought. “Did you come to town for the banquet last weekend?”

“For the high school teacher? Not exactly. Nevin’s mother had some minor surgery scheduled, and he thought we might be some help. His father’s at the hospital now. But since we were here, Nevin went to the dinner.”

Becky Morgan unbalanced Lauren. Talk about gentleness. How in the world did she end up with someone like Nevin Morgan? Then again, Lauren would never have pegged Nevin as someone who wanted to help out because his mother had surgery.

Becky lifted the baby out of the stroller. “Here’s Nevin now.”

The beige Chevy turned into the driveway, and Nevin got out, a package of thirty diapers in his hands.

“Your friend Lauren dropped by.” When her husband drew close, Becky raised her face for his kiss.

“Lauren?” He inspected her expression.

“Lauren Nock,” she said. “We had a few classes together.”

“Oh yes, I remember. I was there the other night when Quinn went missing.”

Nevin sounded sincere. Likable. He took his son from Becky’s arms and let her unlock the house unencumbered.

“I invited Lauren in for tea,” Becky said. “I’ll get the baby settled while you two catch up.”

If Lauren had any thought to back out of the confrontation, Nevin’s wife was making it hard. Lauren was relieved when Becky took the baby down the hall so she could focus.

“How are you, Lauren?” His hand, the palm upturned, invited her to sit down.

“Thank you, but I’m not going to stay long. I have no desire to be rude or to upset your wife, but I’d like you to stop making those calls.”

“Calls?”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

“I’m afraid I don’t.”

“Let me back up, then. I know it was you who made those calls to me all during our senior year.”

He winced. “I was pretty obnoxious in those days. I’m sorry for the way I behaved.”

If he was so sorry, then why was he doing it again? If this was some kind of show because his wife would walk back into the room at any moment, Lauren would push back—gently, of course.

“I’m getting calls again. They’re just like before. I saw you at the banquet with all your old buddies.”

“So you tracked me down because you think it’s me?”

Lauren wasn’t sure of anything at the moment.

“Please stop,” she said.

“It’s not me,” he said.

“You can’t blow in here from Oklahoma and pretend everything’s different.”

“Oklahoma? We live in Minneapolis.”

“Do you have a cell phone?”

“Of course.”

“May I see it, please?” She trembled, but she put out her hand.

Nevin laid his phone in her palm. Lauren dialed her own phone number, and when her phone rang, she looked at the number it displayed.

It wasn’t the 918 number.

“It’s not you.” She met his eyes. “I apologize.”

“I’m really sorry about high school,” he said. “I didn’t do a great job of picking friends in those days. With a few beers in me, I would do whatever they asked and think it was hilarious. Mostly I didn’t remember what I did.”

Lauren scratched the back of her neck, unsure what to think.

“I don’t even know why I agreed to sit with them the other night.” Nevin returned his phone to the holster on his hip. “I guess I should have put you on my list of people to make amends with.”

“Amends?”

“It’s one of the Twelve Steps. Make amends. I’m seven years sober, but I hurt so many people, I’ve been making amends all this time. Maybe I always will be. I’d like your forgiveness for the way I used you for my own amusement. If someone did that to my son …”