remember?”
“Please. Call me Parker.” The tall, blue-eyed man came over and squatted down to get at eye level with Spencer. “Autumn House belongs to a friend of mine. It’s very big and very pretty. And it has a huge yard that puppies like to run around in. I think Tigger will have a great time there.”
Faith noticed that Parker didn’t phrase anything as a question. So he must already know about Spencer. Detective Bentley had probably filled him in on all the pitiful details. Which was only natural, of course. Only fair. These people were doing her a huge favor, and they deserved to know exactly what they were getting into.
It was ungrateful of her to mind. And yet the idea of these strangers discussing her personal tragedies was oddly distressing. Intrusive, as if she really were just that troublesome parcel of handle-with-care cargo.
She felt a new stab of hatred toward Doug Lambert as she added this to his list. He had stolen their basic right to privacy. A small loss, compared to the loss of Grace, or the loss of Spencer’s emotional peace, but another black mark on the board nonetheless.
When the bags were all transferred, Detective Brantley came over to say goodbye. His kind eyes sent courage into hers as he wished her well, and assured her that he’d keep in touch frequently through Parker, making sure she was always updated on the search for Doug Lambert.
Faith allowed herself one long hug. She had to pull herself away, finally, for fear she might dissolve into tears, which would be embarrassing. Besides, it would frighten Spencer, who needed to believe that his aunt, at least, had a firm grip on the reins of their changing, unpredictable world.
“Thanks for everything, Detective,” she managed to say before her voice gave out. And then, without looking back, she took Spencer’s hand and led him into the soft, leather-upholstered interior of Parker Tremaine’s waiting car.
Parker and the detective must have said their goodbyes very quickly, because in less than a minute Parker joined them.
He slipped his key in the ignition, using the mirror to check Spencer and Tigger, who were huddled together in the back seat.
“Everybody buckled in?”
Spencer pretended he hadn’t heard him, but Faith could see that the seat belt was already carefully pulled over both boy and dog. Spencer was so cautious now, she realized with a pang. It was unnatural to see any little boy sitting so still. Like someone frozen in the middle of a minefield.
Once Spencer would have fussed and giggled and played stalling games, pretending he couldn’t find the dreaded lap restraint. But not now. Now he obviously clung to any illusion of safety he could find.
“We’re all ready,” she said, turning to Parker with her best attempt at a smile. He was an innocent bystander in this drama. No need to make him any more uncomfortable than was absolutely necessary.
But as they drove down the winding road that led to Firefly Glen, she gradually realized that Parker wasn’t the uncomfortable type. His conversation was easy, wry and interesting. He avoided anything personal, instead amusing them with stories of how Vanity Gap got its name, and the history of the four “season” houses of Firefly Glen.
They would be staying in one of those special mansions—the Autumn House. Parker spent a lot of time describing the place, somehow making it sound both cozy and grand. Out of the corner of her eye, Faith could see that Spencer had tilted forward slightly, so that he wouldn’t miss a word.
Parker was very smooth. By the time they reached the bottom of the mountain, Faith had relaxed considerably, and she could see that even Spencer’s knuckles were no longer clenched white and bloodless.
“This is Main Street,” Parker said as they turned into a shopping area so quaint it might have been in a picture book of charming European villages.
Faith’s first impression was of clean, sparkling color. It had rained earlier, and gleaming cobblestones wound their way through storefronts decorated with garlands of autumn leaves. Golden chrysanthemums frothed out of pots at every door and late-season daisies flowered in a hundred hanging planters.
“It’s very pretty,” she said inadequately. Actually, it was far more than that. It was like the schoolbook illustration for Our Happy Hometown.
Warm and welcoming, a little jeweled paradise where surely everyone was generous and good, and nothing ever went wrong.
But it was, of course, merely an illusion. No such Eden existed, she knew that. Even a town this beautiful had its secrets, its tears, its cruelties behind closed doors. In spite of the mountains that stood guard on every side, illness and evil and despair had undoubtedly found their way into Firefly Glen, just as they had into every other place on earth.
But none of that was visible on the surface. And a couple of months ago, before Doug Lambert had come into their lives, she might have believed it.
Parker seemed to believe it still. He clearly adored his little town. His voice was warm as he pointed out its special features.
“Main Street wraps around the Town Square. See that central area? It stretches from the church at the north end to the hotel at the south. That’s the heart of the town. All the fun stuff happens here. We’ll be having a Halloween party here next month.”
He glanced in the rearview mirror. “It’s the best party in the world. Great rides, great games and enough cotton candy to make you puke pink.”
Faith thought she heard a noise from the back seat. It might have been a muffled giggle. But when she turned around, Spencer was studying the tag on Tigger’s collar, and he didn’t even seem to have heard.
“Sounds delightful,” she said dryly, watching the long, open green square pass by. The streets were lined with maple trees that had already begun to hint at autumn color. It would undoubtedly be gorgeous at the height of the fall. “But we probably won’t be—”
She stopped herself before she could finish the thought. We won’t be here then, she had been about to say. Halloween was a whole month away, so surely…
But the truth was, she didn’t really know what the future held. She had no idea when—or if—the police would catch Doug Lambert. She had no idea when she and Spencer could go home.
And it was extremely important that she never, ever mislead the little boy. She mustn’t ever get his hopes up, only to dash them later. He had suffered so much shock, so much loss that he didn’t trust anything or anyone anymore.
She was going to have to work very hard to win back even a little of that sweet trust he used to give so freely.
“It sounds terrific,” she repeated, without the wryness. “Maybe we’ll go, if we’re still here at Halloween.”
And as soon as she said the words, a voice in the back of her head added another thought…the kind of sickening thought she’d never had before Grace’s death. The kind of ugly, shivering thought that seemed so out of place in Firefly Glen.
Maybe they’d go. If…
If Doug Lambert didn’t find them.
If they were still alive at Halloween.
REED’S LAST PATIENT of the day was a bunny that had hopped onto a nasty
