lots of fun, and I want to make more baskets for the walnuts too.”
Aside from her distinct freckles, Amanda Bell had green eyes and an obvious lisp. This girl had neither. Gabe nodded and stepped back, realizing Monson had sidled over to hear what was being said. Did everyone whisper around here?
“Thank you for your time and patience,” he told Monson as he started out of the room. “Sorry to have bothered you and the maidens.”
“I’ll see you clear out,” Monson said, and Gabe noted the double meaning of that.
At least he’d learned some things today. Lee and Grace Lockwood were crazier than he thought for coming here to live, letting their boy and girl be part of this. And though Lorna was not Amanda, he definitely didn’t trust Brice Monson.
* * *
Tess drove around Lake Azure, where the Lockwoods used to picnic and play as kids, when they were a family. The wildness of it seemed tamed now with manicured lawns and earth-hued condos set back in landscaped plantings of trees and late-flowering foliage. None of the residences looked the same, some two-story, some ranch, some A-frame. Part of the lake was cordoned off for swimming and paddleboats. Canoes were pulled up on two man-made sand beaches edging the green water. A large, two-story lodge stood at the center of it all. This was a Cold Creek community?
Feeling she didn’t belong there, she drove back into town. She’d already wandered along the new part of Main Street, reading the handwritten menu on the Little Italy Restaurant sign, peeking in Miss Marple’s Tearoom and the Lion’s Head Pub. She’d gone inside the pub because she could see a bulletin board, where she put up one of her posters. That board was a twin to the dartboard that was just inside the door.
“Want a pint or a shandy, luv?” came a very British male voice from inside. “Fish-and-chips be ready straightaway!”
That all sounded good, but she made an excuse and went back outside. No one recognized her at the fire department. The dispatcher was alone since it was all volunteer, but he said the only postings allowed were for duty shifts and schedules. She knew she’d be allowed to put a poster up at the sheriff’s office, so she headed next door. Despite the fact that it wasn’t in the same place and, no doubt, had different people from those who had staffed it years before, her feet began to drag.
She found herself both hoping and dreading that Gabe would be there. Her stomach did a weird little flip-flop at the thought of him.
Inside, a young, pretty brunette sat behind the front desk. “Can I help you?” she asked with a smile.
“I was just wondering if I could put up a poster for a house for sale if you have a public bulletin board. I told the sheriff I’d be putting some up around town.”
“Oh,” she said, rising. “I’m his day dispatcher, Ann Simons. Are you Teresa Lockwood?”
“Yes. I go by Tess now.”
“Oh, right. So I heard. Sure, I got the idea Sheriff McCord wouldn’t mind. You passed the board we use in the entryway there if you can find a place for your sign,” she said, pointing. “I don’t keep it very up to date, and please ignore the Most Wanted posters on it. We’re glad to have you back for a little while, Tess.”
“Thanks. People have been very kind.” She headed for the corkboard, then turned around. “Ann, if you hear of anyone who needs a solidly built house just outside town, then—”
The front door banged open, barely missing Tess. A woman flipped her long blond hair back over her shoulder with a metallic clatter of bracelets. She wore knee-high boots with fringed cuffs, tight black leather pants and an orange brocade jacket. Her face looked too old for the hair or the clothes—or was her rough complexion just the result of too much sun? Tess wondered if maybe she was a regular at Marva’s tanning salon.
“Is he back yet?” the woman demanded of Ann.
“No, but I’m sure you’ll be the first to hear if there is anything to know,” Ann replied calmly.
The woman huffed out a sigh as her shoulders drooped. “I’ll wait. That’s all I do now, wait. And study the other cases and find similarities despite the differences the sheriff’s been preaching to me.”
She collapsed on the pine bench in the waiting area, hunched over and swung her suitcase-sized orange leather purse between her legs. Tess watched her out of the corner of her eye. The woman looked Tess’s way and exploded again.
“You’re Teresa Lockwood, aren’t you?” she cried, jumping to her feet. “I mean, of course you’ve changed, but I’ve studied the old newspaper pictures and articles in the library so long and— You are, aren’t you? I don’t mean to startle you,” she said as she hurried toward Tess, “but my daughter’s disappeared too. If you could just help me, I’m desperate for word of her. Here, let me show you her picture—I mean, you were younger when you were taken, but you are both blonde, and the sheriff—”
“Marian,” Ann said, stepping between the two of them, “why don’t you just sit down and wait for Sheriff McCord?”
“Because I said I’m desperate and I am! Surely this woman can help me find my girl if she can just recall what happened to her years ago.”
“Come on now,” Ann cajoled, tugging on Marian’s arm. “Let’s have some coffee and calm down. Deputy Miller or the sheriff will be back soon, and—”
“Calm down? I need to talk to her—to you, Ms. Lockwood,” she cried, peering over Ann’s shoulder.
Tess was shaking. Had her own mother been this berserk when she was lost? Her heart went out to this woman—Marian—even though she wanted to flee. She finally found her voice.
“I’m sorry,” she told the woman, “but the sheriff, like his father before him, knows all I could tell. I came back, so I hope and pray your daughter will too, and then—”
“Amanda Bell. Her name is Amanda, and I’m Marian Bell. I live up in Lake Azure on Pinecrest if you recall anything at all—where you were kept, anything!”
“I don’t,” Tess whispered, more to herself than to the others. She didn’t, did she? No, of course not. If she did, it would help find the other—now two?—missing girls. It could lead to Gabe’s solving the case. It would end the horror that still haunted her like a monster just out of reach, trying to devour her. But, God help her, she could not recall a thing that would lead to anyone or any place.
Tess saw she still held the poster in her hand and quickly stuck it to the board between an announcement about a charity auction and a bank robbery in Chillicothe, the largest nearby city. She opened the door and went out into the brisk, sunny day, feeling assaulted, as though her soul had been shredded by that woman. Yet she forgave and understood her. Being recognized and interrogated like that—it was one of her worst fears about coming back.
Tess had started for her car when she heard a voice behind her.
“Hey, Tess, I thought that was your car. How’s it going, putting up posters?”
She turned to face Gabe as he caught up with her.
“What’s wrong?” he demanded, his piercing eyes scanning her face. He put a gentle hand on her arm. He wasn’t wearing his hat, and
