“Stella has been leaving food for Olivia in a tree at the edge of camp,” Willa said. “She doesn’t know if Olivia is coming at night to take the food, or if animals are eating it. She swears she doesn’t know where Olivia is now, and I believe her.”
“We’ll talk to her,” Travis said.
Willa leaned forward. “Please be careful. Stella is terrified. She knows about the bloody shirt you found and she’s afraid whoever hurt Olivia will come after her. I’m afraid of that, too. I think she needs to go home, away from the camp.”
“We’ll need to get in touch with her parents,” Travis said. “Do you know their names?”
“I have their names and a phone number.” Willa opened her purse and took out the receipt on which she had written the information and passed it across to Travis. “Try not to frighten her more. The poor girl is miserable, between worrying about her friend and being afraid.”
Travis picked up the handset of his phone and punched in the number. “Mr. Ireland?” he asked. “This is Sheriff Travis Walker in Eagle Mountain, Colorado… Your daughter is fine. I’m calling because we would like to talk to her about the disappearance of her friend Olivia, and we would like you and your wife present when we do so… Stella is not in any trouble. We understandshe’s very upset about her missing friend, and we believe she may know some small details that could help in our search for Olivia Pryor… It’s very important that you bring her in as soon as possible… Tomorrow morning would be good. I know Stella will be happy to see you. One thing I have to ask is that you don’t tell the camp or Stella ahead of time that you’re coming. Simply show up and bring Stella here to the sheriff’s department. We’re on Second Street in Eagle Mountain… The camp might object, but they can’t keep you from your daughter. If they give you any trouble, call me. I’m going to give you my direct number.” He recited a phone number, then repeated it. “Thank you. I really appreciate your help.”
He ended the call. “They’re bringing her in tomorrow,” he said.
“That was good, telling them not to contact the camp ahead of time,” Willa said. “Will you tell them after the interview that Stella needs to go home with them? I’m afraid if someone at the camp did hurt Olivia, they might go after Stella, too.”
“I’ll tell them.”
He thanked her again for coming in and she walked with Aaron to his truck. He had offered to drive her to the interview and she had gratefully accepted. “I don’t want to go home yet,” she said as he started the engine. “Gary is there and he’ll ask about the interview. I’m not ready to talk about it yet.”
“Where would you like to go?”
“Someplace quiet and private.”
He considered this a moment, then shifted into gear and pulled out of the parking space. She didn’t ask where they were going, merely stared out the window, her expression pensive.
Aaron drove tohis house and pulled into the driveway. “Is this all right?” he asked as he shut off the engine.
Willa studied the A-frame, with its fading paint and ragged yard. It wasn’t that different from her own rental. A comfortable place to stay, but not yet a home. “This is fine,” she said, and got out of the truck.
She was waiting at the door when he came up behind her to open it. The living room was as she remembered from her visit three nights ago, cluttered and comfortable, dust motes drifting in the sunlight that arced through floor-to-ceiling front windows.
“I can make coffee,” he said, shutting the door behind them. “Or tea.”
“Let’s just sit for a minute.” She sat on the sofa. He started to take the chair across from her—the one she had chosen the other night—then shifted to sit beside her. Close, but not touching.
“Sorry the place is such a mess,” he said, following her gaze to the shirt draped across the back of the chair and the empty glass on the coffee table.
“It’s better than the place you were living in when we met,” she said. “There were boxes everywhere.”
“I had just moved and wasn’t unpacked yet,” he said. “It got better.”
She angled toward him, smiling at the memory. “Do you remember the first time I saw it? The first time we went out?”
“The day we met. I remember.”
She put a hand to her cheek, which felt hot. “I still can’t believe how fast I fell for you. You brought in that prisoner to be stitched up and we started talking and the next thing I knew I was agreeing to have dinner with you. That night.”
“I couldn’t believe my luck,” he said. “The minute I saw you I was just…bowled over. I knew I was completely monopolizing your time but I couldn’t stop talking to you. I was sure you were going to think I was the biggest fool you had ever met.”
“I didn’t think that. I was just…mesmerized.”
He laughed, from nerves as much as amusement. “No one has ever said that about me before.”
“I don’t know what it was about you,” she said. “It was like…we had so much to say to each other. I didn’t want you to leave, and I couldn’t wait to see you again.”
“When I asked you back to my place after dinner, I was sure you’d turn me down,” he said. “I was already planning to ask to see you the next day. And I knew I’d call you the next morning, but you said yes.”
“I had never done that before—gone back to a man’s place when I’d known him less than twenty-four hours. Even as I was saying yes, I couldn’t believe I was doing it.” She fell silent, remembering what else she had done that evening—falling into bed with him as if they had known each other for months instead of hours. It was as if they had come down with a fever that left them only able to think about each other.
