Shaking her head, she resumed leafing through the drawings. There were many drawings of the older boy, and she watched as he aged, from a young, carefree boy into a serious man. She could see him lose that youthful exuberance and become sadder and more cynical until the final portrait. In it, he looked to be in his thirties, his dark hair swept back from his face severely, his mouth a thin, hard, unforgiving line, but it was his eyes that caught Olivia’s attention. They were filled with such blazing anger that Olivia could almost feel his fury through the page.
Olivia rolled her neck to shift the unease that had settled somewhere between her shoulder blades and turned to the next page. A sweet, young girl with dark hair, stared back at her from the page. The child was around six or seven years old she had to hazard a guess. The girl’s smile was impish, and her eyes crinkled in laughter. Unlike the harsh lines of the man on the previous page, Olivia could feel the love in every light stroke and curve on the page. Glancing once again at the corner, she saw the neat letters TB.
Just who was this mysterious TB, she wondered, and why were their journal and sketchbook locked in Hester’s trunk and protected by magic?
Placing the bundle of drawings down, Olivia reached for the journal again, but a sudden vibration in the back pocket of her jeans had her shifting on the hard floor so she could retrieve her phone.
You said to give you a few days, but I can’t wait any longer. You should know I’m just as impatient as when we were kids… just kidding, I’m worse. I’m coming up to the house tonight with a surprise and a couple of bottles of wine. Let me know if you want me to grab takeout x
Olivia’s mouth curved as she typed out a quick reply. She’d felt unsettled being back in Mercy, especially staying in the house where her grandmother and great-aunt had lived. She’d spent so much time there as a child, but now that it was hers, it just felt sad and empty. Maybe this was what she needed—some company and a chance to catch up with an old friend.
Although maybe she’d cook instead. Louisa had some really weird tastes as a kid, and Olivia wasn’t entirely sure she could trust her even now with bringing takeout. Besides, it had been a while since she’d had the chance to cook for someone other than herself.
She glanced down at the trunk and its now scattered contents. As much as she’d love to spend all afternoon pouring over the journals, there still wasn’t much food in the house. She’d definitely need to run to the store first.
Picking up the journals a little regretfully she slipped them and the poppet back into Hester’s trunk. Tucking it out of the way Olivia stood and glanced at the snapping flames of the cheerful fireplace.
“Okay, that’s enough now, thanks,” she murmured, watching as the flames dimmed and banked low in response.
Slipping on her jacket she headed out the door and, before long, found herself parking outside Bailey’s Convenience. She’d only just stepped out of the car when the flashing lights of a police cruiser caught her attention. It was parked across the street outside the pub. Jackson stood outside, his body tense and his expression troubled as he spoke to one of the deputies. The deputy would nod every now and then, scribbling something in his notepad.
Olivia watched for a moment as Jackson ran his hand through his dark hair and glanced in Olivia’s direction and lifted his chin in acknowledgment.
Olivia gave a weak smile and turned toward the store. Whatever was going on was none of her business—despite the prickle of unease— and she’d like to keep it that way.
A chirpy bell jingled as she stepped inside and grabbed a basket from the stack by the entrance. She wandered the aisles and selected the items she needed before heading up to the counter. A sturdy-looking woman stood with her back to Olivia, her nose pressed so firmly to the window that Olivia wouldn’t have been surprised to see a permanent indentation worn into the glass. The woman’s eyes fixed upon the pub across the street, and she couldn’t have been more obvious if she’d been holding a pair of binoculars.
Olivia’s mouth twitched in amusement. Some things never changed, she thought, shaking her head silently. She’d spent so much time living in big, impersonal cities over the past ten years and enjoying the solitude and anonymity that she’d forgotten a small town’s thirst for gossip.
Sensing a customer, the woman shifted away from the window, her appraising gaze sweeping over Olivia. Olivia’s wry amusement instantly dissolved into something much more guarded as she recognized the face staring at her.
Mrs. Eustacia Bailey had aged considerably in the twenty years Olivia had been gone. Thick layers of pressed powder had settled into the deep lines and grooves around her sharp eyes and bracketing her perpetual pout. Her perfectly coiffed ash-blonde hair was streaked with gray, and her pantsuit was ruthlessly pressed.
“Terrible business.” Mrs. Bailey tutted, shaking her head.
Although it was muttered under her breath, the way her eyes bored into Olivia’s signified that she expected a response.
“What is?” Olivia replied after a moment since Mrs. Bailey seemed disinclined to ring up her purchases without her reluctant participation in the conversation.
“That bartender, the drifter… Adam.”
Olivia frowned. “What about him?”
“Disappeared last night.” Mrs. Bailey’s mouth puckered even tighter in disapproval. “Drugs,” she declared with one raised brow. “Drugs, I tell you. He seems the sort. Disappeared he has, no sign of him anywhere. I wouldn’t be surprised if he robbed the place blind on his way out the door. I told Jackson he should’ve hired a local, not some drifter that wandered into town with nothing but a backpack. His kind never come to any good.”
“Now, dear, that’s not a very charitable thing to say,” a soft voice spoke behind Olivia, causing her to turn.
As she caught sight of a small round familiar looking man close by, stocking the shelves, a genuine smile graced Olivia’s lips.
Mr. Bailey was now almost completely bald and sporting a very obvious paunch, but he had kind eyes and a warm smile. Despite his wife being a voracious gossip, Mr. Bailey had been calm and welcoming. He’d always sneak her and Louisa candy whenever his wife wasn’t watching, whereas Mrs. Bailey would shoo them out of the store, accusing them of being grubby little heathens.
“I’m just saying,” Mrs. Bailey huffed as she packed Olivia’s items haphazardly into a paper bag. “It’s not natural, a boy abandoning his family like that, moving from town to town, never staying in one place. I bet he has a criminal record too. I told Chief Walcott six months ago when that boy blew into town that he was no good. Now look what’s happened, robbing Jackson blind. He was always too softhearted with strays.” She sized Olivia up as if looking for any potential criminal predilections.
“Now, we don’t know that’s what happened, love,” Mr. Bailey answered. “For all we know, something’s happened to the poor boy, so let’s not go jumping to conclusions or making judgments.”
“You mark my words, Jonathan Bailey.” She wagged her finger at him before reaching out to take Olivia’s payment. “That boy will come to no good. And I’ll tell you another thing. If…” her voice trailed off as she caught the name printed on Olivia’s credit card, her eagle eyes lighting up in a slightly disturbing way. “West?” she exclaimed. “Olivia West?”
Olivia released a slow, resigned breath. “Hello, Mrs. Bailey.”
