Beth took a sip of coffee, scanning the room again. “It’s a pattern,” she said. “Either she really didn’t want attention, or someone made damn sure she didn’t stand out. What do you think?”
“I think being unmemorable is worse, sometimes. Means you can vanish, and no one notices.”
Beth didn’t argue.
We loitered by the window for a few minutes, staring out at the street. The table was littered with coffee rings and a single drooping plant which had seen better days. Through the glass, Mystic Hollow chugged along, people carrying groceries, a mail carrier wrestling a package into submission, and a dog walker who had more canines than should be legally allowed.
I tried to picture Alice here, with her purple backpack at her feet and her hands cupping a mug against the cold. She’d never been loud, but she radiated a kind of safety that made you want to sit down beside her and pretend you had all the time in the world.
I was about to suggest we cut our losses and head out, maybe try badgering the librarians again, when a guy at the table behind us cleared his throat.
He had thick glasses, and a laptop with at least six random stickers plastered to the lid. He didn’t look up from the screen, but his tone carried across the space.
“You’re asking about Alice? The quiet girl with the purple backpack?”
Beth’s head whipped around so fast she nearly launched her drink across the room. “Yeah. You know her?”
“Kinda.” The guy shrugged, still typing. “We had some classes together at community college. She reads here a lot. Not really a talker, but she was cool.”
“Did you see her recently?” I leaned in, desperate not to scare him off. “Like maybe this week?”
He squinted at me over the frame of his glasses. “Yeah. Maybe a day or two ago. She was sitting right there.” He pointed at Alice’s spot.
My pulse tried to jackhammer out of my neck. “Did she talk to anyone? Did someone approach her?”
He shook his head. “Not that I saw. She was reading. Kinda zoned out, actually. Until, well, that’s what was weird.”
“Weird how?” Beth prompted.
Laptop Guy chewed his lip, thinking. “So she’s sitting there, and it’s like any other day. Then suddenly she just snaps to attention. Looks out the window. Stares for a good five seconds, maybe more. Then she grabs her stuff and splits. Fast. Like she remembered she left the oven on at home, but more freaked out.”
“Did you see what she was looking at?” I asked.
Another head shake. “I couldn’t see from my angle. She didn’t say a thing, she just packed everything and left.”
Beth scribbled furiously, then glanced at me. “Did you notice if anyone followed her?”
“Nope,” he said. “But I do know she had a book club thing that night. She told the barista she’d be back tomorrow, but…”
He trailed off, and I wanted to pound my forehead against the table with frustration.
Beth thanked him, businesslike, and closed her notebook with a snap that made the nearest plant jump in its pot.
We left Cedar Cup with more questions than answers, but at least we had something, a blip, a crack where panic had slipped through.
Outside, the cold bit a new angle into my bones, but this time I embraced it.
Beth turned to me, already walking fast enough to make me scuttle to keep up. “You’re not going to believe this, but I managed to get hold of Alice’s book club. They had plans to hang out at the park today and agreed to stop by the psych office beforehand.”
I didn’t bother hiding my hope. “Maybe someone from the club knows what or who she saw. Alice went right to her meeting after leaving the coffee shop. Could be that whatever got to her, she told them about it.”
“Exactly.”
Beth’s hands were already texting, probably running background checks on every bookworm in a ten-mile radius, but I was too busy replaying Laptop Guy’s story in my head. Alice, staring through the window. Alice, running for the door.
Alice, scared.
We wound our way through Mystic Hollow’s streets. At the bakery, Deva’s staff lined up to take boxes of cinnamon rolls to the police station. In front of the fabric store, Carol’s window display featured a scarf so violently colorful it blinded me for a half second. Even the air seemed frazzled with expectation.
