“Well, you know how it is when someone gets sick,” Elena said, trying to match his brightness and hating herself for it.
“I was sorry to hear about your mother,” Sam said, dropping his tone. “She’s a wonderful and brilliant woman. I hope treatment’s going okay?”
“It’s just fine, Sam. But I’m not calling about my mother,” Elena said. “I understand you were the editor here at the paper for the better part of twenty years?”
“Twenty years! Yep. You should see all the gray hair on my head,” Sam said.
“That’s what the paper will do to you,” Elena agreed, rolling her eyes at Natalie. “But to keep the paper running, we need some information from you. You were a pretty important part of the machinery around here.”
“No doubt about that! I’m surprised you’re still in operation.”
Elena flared her nostrils. “We’re trying to break a case right now,” she said. “A case about the Cranberry Cove. A case involving Judge Baxter Drury that may date back to 1957. We’re looking for my mother’s notes about that. Do you happen to know where they might be?”
Sam let out a high-pitched laugh that made Elena’s blood run cold. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ve never heard anything more ridiculous in my life.”
Elena blinked and blinked. “Are you sure about that?”
“Sure? Of course, I’m sure,” Sam said, his volatility showing. “I wish you all the luck in the world, darling Vasquez. But stay out of stories that have no merit, will you? I would have thought you’d have learned your lesson over in Syria.” With that, he hung up.
Elena smashed her fist on the desk and got to her feet.
“He sounds guilty, all right,” Natalie murmured.
Elena tried to call him again, but by then, Sam had already blocked her. Elena’s heart slammed again and again against her rib cage. Something was very wrong.
Chapter Fifteen
It was a Friday morning, the second week of December. With a pep to his step, James was out and about, gathering supplies for his evening Christmas party. He’d invited everyone from his grief support group and his crisis management group, as well as friends and neighbors. It was his first Christmas party since he’d lost everything, his first since his son died. But something was magical about this year, something that demanded he keep going.
James paused outside the grocery store and checked his list: decorations, various types of cheese, fresh bread, supplies to make homemade mozzarella sticks, supplies for pizza, plenty of veggies and meat, plus ingredients for cookies. A few of his friends had told him they’d bring their favorite cookies as well, that he didn’t have to do all the baking himself. But there was something special to him about throwing a party. He wanted to make sure every step was perfect.
Of course, he was thrilled that Elena was coming. Since their lunch date the other day, they hadn’t seen much of each other, but he’d thought of her often, wondering what she was up to, what kinds of news stories she was breaking. Her tales of Syria and that awful ex-boyfriend had led James on a wild goose chasethrough the internet, where he’d read about Elena’s “failure” as a reporter, as well as Timothy’s articles, which James felt lacked the spark of Elena’s.
He’d also googled a photograph of Timothy and been floored at how handsome he was, but James tried not to think of it too much. The man was a monster.
Something out of the corner of James’s eye forced him to turn his head. Later, he wouldn’t be able to remember what it was. But before him, not ten feet away, was his ex-wife, Bethany. Her blond bob glowed around her ears, and her long, dark coat was sophisticated, belted around her slender midriff. James saw her before she saw him, and it gave his thoughts enough time to run wild. Had she come back here to see him? Had she tried to call? Or had she thought she could come back to Millbrook and avoid him?
James’s palms were sweating. The anniversary of their son’s death wasn’t long from now. Maybe Bethany had wanted to come to Millbrook, grieve privately, and go. But why would she want to grieve privately when James was literally right here? He’d lost him, too.
Before James could get his mind around it, she spotted him and stopped short.
“Oh. James.” She pulled her hands out of her coat pockets and made them fly like birds around her face. She was nervous, proof that she hadn’t wanted to run into him.
James realized he hadn’t seen her in two and a half years.She’d moved away, he’d thought. Connersville, he was pretty sure. Far enough away that they didn’t have to see each other like this.
“Hi,” he said. “Welcome back.”
Bethany took a step toward him. “You’re looking good.”
“You as well,” James said. The air between them was difficult to breathe, but James saw no exit. More than that, he recognizedhow much he’d craved conversation with Bethany through the years. He’d married this woman! He’d had a baby with her! Didn’t that matter?
“You know, the town looks great for Christmas,” Bethany said, gesturing toward the tree at the courthouse. “It always does.”
“What about in Connersville?” James asked.
“Oh, I’ve moved away from Connersville,” she said, blushing.
Before James had the chance to ask where she’d gone and why, and before he could muster the nerve to ask her for a cup of coffee and a better place to chat, the door to the candy shop directly beside them opened and out walked a familiar face. James couldn’t entirely place him at first. His heart pounded as the man walked straight up to Bethany and put his arm around her waist. He was James’s replacement. He was in love with James’s ex-wife. He smiled at James. “Hi, there. Merry Christmas.” And then he said, “That’s quite a haul you have there.”
