he still doing on her mind?
“Yes, I remember,” she said, tugging herself back into the moment. “You phoned me last week about the room over the garage.”
The woman nodded. “Yes, and you said you weren’t going to be renting it out this year.”
Carrie nodded, catching a whiff of the woman’s perfume, which reminded her of her grandmother’s flowery favorite scent. “It’s just with the circumstances—”
“The missing boy. I know. I’ve seen the flyers. And you have a son of your own, so I completely understand why you wouldn’t want a stranger around right now.”
“Exactly,” Carrie said. She didn’t add that she wasn’t all that worried about strangers, since she didn’t think Kyle had met with any sort of foul play. No, she was more concerned about the gossip-seeking tabloid junkies and money-seeking amateur sleuths, all sniffing around for information on the missing baby from sixteen years ago.
“But still, I wanted to come by. Partly because most people just love me once they meet me,” Rose said, exaggeratedly batting her eyelashes and offering a coy smile that had Carrie smiling right back. “And partly because I figured you could tell at a glance that I’m no menacing kidnapper type.”
“I can see that you’re not at all menacing.” The older woman wore a long floral print jacket that floated when she moved, over a plain white button-down top and dressy brown trousers. The jacket gave the outfit flash, color, style and motion, and it looked expensive.
“Oh, wait, I almost forgot.” The woman opened the very large quilted shoulder bag she carried and tugged out a plastic container with a tight-fitting lid. “These are for you and your family. A blatant attempt at bribery, I admit. But you get to keep them even if you don’t change your mind.”
Carrie took the container, which was semitransparent. “Brownies?”
“The best brownies in the universe. Even if you say no now, you’ll be saying yes after you eat your first bite just in hopes you might get another batch.”
Carrie laughed out loud that time. She liked this lady.
“Now, I promise I won’t make a pest of myself by asking again after today. This is my last-ditch effort. But I haven’t been able to find a vacancy anywhere else in town, and the woman at the store said you usually rent out that garage apartment to tourists in the fall, and I really want to be here as the leaves begin to change this year. I’ve missed it so much.”
Carrie lifted her brows. “You’ve been here before, then?”
“I grew up here,” Rose said. “Well, until I was ten and my family moved west. I told myself I’d have one more autumn in Shadow Falls before I died. And I’m not one to complain, but it looks like I might not have too many more autumns in me.”
Carrie blinked and knew the woman had her. How could she say no to a plea like that? And it was true; she usually did rent out that room, more as a favor to the town than out of any real need for the extra cash. Shadow Falls encouraged its year-round residents to make use of extra space that way, because it was good for tourism. The regular rooms booked up a year in advance, but the town hated to turn away anyone who wanted to visit. Especially lately, when times had been tough. The ski resort owners were having more trouble than anyone. Poor Nate Kelly was talking about selling his Sugar Tree Lodge. The winters just hadn’t been producing the snow they used to, and making it was expensive. But while the ski business was the one in crisis, things were tightening up for everyone in the tourist industry, so providing a room for overflow visitors was Carrie’s little bit of public service for her adopted hometown. But she hadn’t intended to do it this year.
Until now. “Well, I don’t know,” she said, teasing the woman back a little. “Maybe I’d better taste one of these brownies first.”
Rose smiled, knowing she’d won her case. “I think I like you, Dr. Overton.”
“Call me Carrie.” She pointed to a spot beside the garage. “You can pull the car up right there. I’ll run in and get the key, and then I’ll show you the room.”
Rose beamed. “Oh, thank you, Carrie. Thank you so, so much. You can’t possibly know what this means to me.”
“Sam Overton, right?” Gabe had seen the familiar giant red SUV pull up in front of the old firehouse, watched the boy get out, and felt a surprising letdown when he noted that the female with him was the cute little blonde girlfriend and not his redheaded mother. He’d been looking for her amid the crowd of volunteers since he’d arrived fifteen minutes ago.
The firehouse was like something out of a forty- or fifty-year-old snapshot, a small wooden structure with a giant bell on top that would have to be rung by hand. Handpainted lettering spelled out Shadow Falls Fire Station. Gabe figured there was probably an old-fashioned pole inside, too.
Behind and to the right, there was a big modern fire station with three bays, overhead doors and speakers mounted on the roof. But the town had the good sense, in Gabe’s opinion, to keep the old one. And not only to keep it, but use it. It fit here, nestled amid the maple- and pine-covered hills that were just beginning to come alive with color.
Sam glanced at Gabe then looked again. “Right, you’re the guy who helped out with Marty at the game earlier.” He extended a hand as he added, “Thanks for that.”
“No problem. How’s he doing?”
“Fine. Great. So you’re joining in the search, then?”
“Yeah, your mom told me about it. I, uh—I thought she was going to be here.”
“She’s gonna be late. We got a boarder at the last minute, and she had to get her settled in.”
“A boarder?”
“We rent the little apartment over the garage when there’s overflow at the local inns and stuff.” Sam winced, partly due to the elbow in his rib cage. “Sorry,” he said to the girl who’d thrown it. “This is my girlfriend, Sadie.”
Gabe extended a hand to the pretty cheerleader, remembering her from the soccer game—match. “Gabriel Cain,” he said. “Good to meet you.”
She opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off by Sam, who gaped and said, “Not the Gabriel Cain? The songwriter?”
Gabe lowered his eyes. “Yeah, but I’m kinda keeping that to myself for the moment.”
“Why? I’d be wearing a T-shirt with my platinum records all over it!” Sam looked at Sadie, who was wearing a puzzled frown. “It’s Gabriel Cain. You know. ‘Birds in the Wind,’ ‘Silent Song,’ ‘Sunbeam’…”
Her brows went up as Sam said, his voice growing louder with every word, “He wrote them. And tons more. He’s freakin’ famous.”
“Again,” Gabe said, “keeping a low profile here.”
“Sure, sure, I got that. But damn, Gabriel Cain, right here in Shadow Falls. Hey, I play a little, you know. We should jam or something. How long are you going to be in town?”
Gabe smiled, loving the kid’s enthusiasm. “I don’t know yet. I tend to go where the wind takes me.”
