to discover exactly why he’d come here to locate a man who’d been dead for seven years, and a good way to find out was to be casually friendly over food.
Transferring five of the pasties to a plate, she set it on the table next to the salad, then plucked the ketchup bottle from the refrigerator and added that. Aino always slathered ketchup on his pasty. Never mind what Martha Stewart might say, the bottle on the table made it all the more casual.
Even though she’d been expecting it, when she heard the tap at the kitchen door she started and had to clear her throat before calling, “Come in.”
“Something smells mouthwatering good in here,” Mikel said as he entered.
She gestured toward the table, wordlessly inviting him to be seated.
“Anything I can do?” he asked, hovering instead of sitting, looking at her with those green hunter’s eyes.
“Just tell me if you want coffee with supper or afterward.”
“After, please.”
When she started toward the table, he held her chair out for her and pushed it in once she sat down, just as though they were in some fancy restaurant. She appreciated his gesture, even though it made her more nervous for some reason.
“I hope you like the pasties,” she said.
“My grandmother taught me early to approach any new dish with a confident heart, as she put it, meaning that I should expect it to be delicious.”
As he spoke, he slid a pasty onto his plate. Picking up his fork, he used it to break through the crust and lifted out a portion filled with vegetables and meat. As he chewed he raised his left hand and formed an approving circle with his thumb and forefinger.
She gestured toward the ketchup bottle. “Aino likes to pour ketchup over his pasty.”
Mikel shook his head. “I don’t fool with perfection.”
Though pleased, she told herself she wasn’t getting any further with her plan to find out why he’d come here. What did he want to know about Leo?
He looked out a window, saying, “Even on a cloudy day you have long summer twilights here.”
Rather than wasting time commenting on northern summer evenings, she tried to find an opening that wasn’t too obvious. “Have you ever visited the U.P. before?” she asked finally.
“No. Do you always get these cold rains in August?”
“Some years. It’ll warm up.” How could she ease him off small talk?
“Did you hear how your grandfather is doing?” he said after a short silence.
“The doctor is optimistic.”
“So that means you won’t have to call his granddaughter in Finland right away. How long before she comes back to the States?”
She had her opening. “Why do you ask?”
“Because I’d like to talk to her.”
“About what?”
He raised an eyebrow. “How about a fair exchange here? You haven’t yet answered my question.”
It wouldn’t do any harm to tell him, she decided. “Eva will be flying back to New York City the end of next week, but, before driving home, I think she plans to stay awhile with the upstate friend she left her car with.”
“So my questions will have to wait.”
“I still don’t understand why you want to talk to her.”
Evaluating her comments, Mikel decided she didn’t sound particularly defensive, just curious. Those soft brown eyes hadn’t blinked too many or too few times and she met his gaze normally. Liars tended to either look away or keep fixed on the person they spoke to.
“I realize you must want to know what I’m doing here in Ojibway,” he said. “Fourteen years ago a girl disappeared from her home back East. Her name is Renee Reynaud and she was thirteen at the time. I’m searching for her.”
Though she didn’t respond immediately, he noted that Rachel’s expression of polite curiosity didn’t change, reassuring him of her honesty. “I don’t understand why you’re searching here,” she said.
“Leo Saari was one of Rachel’s teachers and she sometimes baby-sat his daughter. He left that same New Jersey community about the time Rachel disappeared and I learned that he’d come to Ojibway. I’m checking out every possible connection. I was hoping Aino would be able to tell me if Leo had a red-haired little girl with him when he arrived here, but I don’t want to pester him with questions until he’s recovered. Eva may be able to remember a few things about Renee that might help me.”
“Eva was only eight when her father returned home. She might be rather hazy about an early baby-sitter.”
“You’re protective of Eva.”
Rachel gave him a level look. “Maybe so. I tend to feel like her older sister. But as for asking if Leo arrived here with a red-haired girl, I can answer that. Like everyone else around Ojibway, I know the only people with him were his wife and daughter Eva. Poor Mrs. Saari died not long after they got here.”
He had no reason not to believe her, though he’d ask around to be sure. “I’d still like to talk to Eva, even if I have to wait until she gets back. I don’t expect you to put me up for what may be several weeks so I’ll look for—”
Rachel cut him off. “Aino will be upset if you don’t stay at the farm. It’s his way of repaying you for your timely help.”
Mikel didn’t argue. It suited him to be right where he was, handy to those who might offer some clues to what had happened to Renee. Not to mention seeing more of Rachel, whether that was wise or not.
“Is that what you do for a living?” Rachel asked “Search for missing persons?”
“It’s part of my job, yes.” Which it was. She didn’t need to know those he searched for were usually criminals. “What do you do?”
“I teach English and drama at the Ojibway High School.” She rose and began clearing the table, declining his help.
When she served the coffee, she also brought a plate of chocolate cookies with chocolate frosting. “My compliments to the chef,” he said after the first bite.
She smiled, the first genuine smile she’d given him. “Those are Aunt Sally’s Cocoa Drops, but don’t ask who Aunt Sally is. No one has a clue.”
He’d noticed there was no automatic dishwasher so he said, “I do know my way around a kitchen, thanks to Grandma Sonia, who insisted chores were a unisex thing, not divided into male and female duties. I’ll help you with the dishes as thanks for a great meal.”
“Did your grandmother live with you?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Like you, I was orphaned young. My grandparents raised me.”
“Then
