The fog hovering around the harbor obscured the lights, giving it a definite creep factor and seeming to defy her conclusion.
It was too dark to see much of Bay View Cemetery. Just that foreboding black iron fence.
Were the two crows still waiting on Mattie Calder’s headstone?
Sarah shook her head. She’d drifted way off course, intertwining fact with fiction.
Time to set a new one.
The inn stood alone atop that steep hill, the few illuminated windows staring out like pale eyes watching over all of Youngstown.
Tomorrow morning she would need to get a foot in the reverend’s door. Or catch him away from the house. Or the niece. The niece might even be better. She appeared anxious to talk. Possibly to get even with her uncle for whatever he had done to her.
Maybe Sarah would catch Barton Harvey in a good mood and go over a few details with him. Like whether or not he wanted to chase her through the woods again.
Yeah, and maybe it would be a pleasant eighty degrees tomorrow.
Not going to happen unless she hopped a plane south.
Her headlights flashed across a silver vehicle.
Jeep.
Conner was waiting for her.
Anticipation shimmered, warming her in ways that should set off any number of alarms. But that didn’t happen. Instead, she made excuses for not turning around and driving the other way. Maybe he had news he intended to share on the investigation.
But then he would only give her what the chief had authorized. She could get that on the nightly news.
Sarah parked her car and got out. The Jeep was deserted. She glanced at the inn. He would be waiting for her in the lobby.
Or in her room.
Another rush of heat, this one lower, deeper.
The lobby was closed for the night. A small desk light spread its glow across the registration counter; otherwise, the room was dark.
Sarah climbed the stairs, listening to the silence. No television noise. No chatter of conversation. Not even the roar of the oil furnace.
But he was here, she didn’t have to hear him ... she felt him.
Sure enough, down the hall, propped in front of her door, was Kale Conner.
His coat lay on the floor at his feet. With his head leaned against the wall and eyes closed, he looked asleep, but she knew better.
As she came closer, he lifted his head and turned toward her. She braced for the confrontation.
“You have a message.” He unfolded his arms and held a piece of paper in her direction.
She took the paper in one hand and dug for her key with the other. “Thanks.” The number on the message was her shrink’s. She wadded the note and shoved it into her coat pocket. “You been waiting long?”
He picked up his coat. “Long enough.”
She wondered how long they could dance around the real reason he was here. He would want to know if Lex had told the truth. How she’d managed to survive ... et cetera, et cetera.
She didn’t want to talk about it.
In her room, she tossed her bag on the floor by the bed and shrugged off the coat. “Have you been authorized to bring me up to speed on the case?”
