“Is he all right?” Kate asked Sara when the line began to thin out.
“I don’t know. Go find him.”
Kate smiled at the people before them, then turned away. Once out of sight, she began to run, looking everywhere for Jack.
She found him near the large headstone of his grandfather Cal. Close by was another stone for Henry Lowell and not far away was Evan. She looked around but didn’t see Roy Wyatt’s headstone.
Kate didn’t say anything, just stood beside Jack as he leaned on his crutches and stared at his grandfather’s name etched in granite.
They were quiet for a while, then Jack said, “You ready to face the masses? The hungry, teeming hordes?”
“I have my lamp lit and the golden door will be opened.”
“For me or old man Stewart?”
“For the whole town,” she said, then realized that his innuendo was sexual. She turned a bit red and they laughed together. “Aunt Sara will be waiting for us.” She started toward the car.
“Wait,” he said and held out his arm.
They’d known each other a very short time but they’d been through a lot together. She went to him and wrapped her arms around him, and he kissed her forehead.
“Thanks for all this,” he said. “It wouldn’t have come about without you. Sara and I would have retreated to our rooms in silence.”
She smiled as she knew that was true. “Your singing—”
Groaning, he released her. “How am I gonna get any girls now? I’ll be known as the Singing Wimp of Lachlan.”
They were slowly walking toward the car.
“Speaking of that, I’ve been meaning to ask you about some newscaster you’ve been seeing.”
Jack gave a one-sided grin. “Jealous?”
“Insane with it. I want to claw her eyes out. Rip out her hair. Beat her with your crutches. I fantasize about—”
“Okay, I get it. You couldn’t care less who I date.” They were at the car.
Huddled in the back, looking tiny, was Sara. “Ready to get this over with?” he asked her.
“Oh, yeah,” she said.
Kate got into the front passenger seat. “Come on, let’s go sleuthing.” With an eye roll, Jack put his crutches in the back, then got into the driver’s side.
Two hours into the memorial at Sara’s house, they were thinking they’d made a mistake. They hadn’t learned anything.
Kate had settled Sara at a table in the big family room. Instantly, a long line formed to get a free autographed book. The first eager person to reach her said, “There’s something I’ve always wanted to ask an author—where do you get your ideas?” Kate didn’t stay to hear Sara’s answer.
Jack had his back to the wall in the living room and was surrounded by girls who were swooning over his singing and his... Whatever. He looked over their heads to Kate. “Do you need me?” he asked loudly, then mouthed,Please.
“No, not at all,” she said sweetly.
She opened the doors into Sara’s bedroom and went into the little library.
Heather was sitting beside a box full of folded papers. Everyone who was there today had some connection to the victims and they were supposed to have written down their memories.
“Anything?” Kate asked.
“Cheryl was pretty and Verna kept to herself,” Heather said. “The same thing over and over. When I was married to Roy, we lived near them, but I don’t remember them at all.”
