Her instincts were screaming at Sarah to stay. To find the truth. After all, that was the real story.
Maybe it wasn’t cloaked in magic or ghosts, but it was thoroughly shrouded in secrets.
Secrets being kept by the most heinous of villains.
An intimate of the victims.
Someone known and maybe loved by the victims.
The mystery here was far more involved than the perp the police were looking for, and certainly more involved than Lex expected. She couldn’t label why yet. Couldn’t even put it into words. But she knew it was wrong.
Just wrong. That was all she knew so far.
For the first time in ten years, Sarah felt like she was a part of something bigger, that her task was more than demystifying bedtime stories.
Conner spotted her across the parking lot and started in her direction. She’d managed to avoid him this morning. Until now.
After a futile search for Matilda and several attempts to meet with Reverend Mahaney or his niece, and Barton Harvey, she and Conner had parted ways after that midnight briefing.
Spending another night with him would have been an even bigger mistake than she’d already made. She was getting too close. Allowing him too close.
Sarah had turned off her cell phone and spent the night reviewing her notes and what few evidentiary details she’d begged, borrowed, and stolen. Then she’d tried to sleep.
Dreams had kept her from achieving that ever-elusive goal.
Only these dreams had been different. They had involved him.
“I tried to catch you at the inn.”
She’d known he would. So she’d left early and driven around. Sarah had found herself at the chapel, or at least as close to it as the police perimeter would allow.
“I had things to do.”
He nodded. “My family’s over there.” He motioned to his mother’s minivan, where his father, stationed in his wheelchair, was being hydraulically lowered to the ground. His brother, who’d come home from the University of Massachusetts for the memorial service, hovered nearby. “I thought maybe you might like to sit with us. You haven’t met my brother Jamison yet.”
“Sure.” Sarah didn’t exactly have an excuse to say no.
Conner looked good in black. Straight-cut suit, crisp white shirt, narrow black tie. Even had the leather wingtips to match. No flannel or boots today. That she noted every little detail was not a good sign.
His gaze traveled the length of her and back.
“It’s the only dress I brought,” she explained for no good reason. Why should she care if he noticed she’d worn the same thing three times already? Not to mention her coat was not exactly suitable for wearing to church.
“You could wear it every day and the facts wouldn’t change.”
His hand settled at her lower back as he ushered her toward his family.
Had she just been insulted?
“What facts?”
He smiled. “The facts of how great you look in that dress.”
Irrationally annoyed, she pointed out, “That’s one fact, Conner.”
He leaned closer as they reached the minivan. “The others are private.”
“Sarah.” Before she could analyze that comment, Polly Conner rushed up and gave her a hug. “You have to sit with me.” With a covert glance at her mom, she added in a whisper, “I’ll tell you about everybody.”
