Instead, the residents asked about the weather, commented on how well the library's book sale had done, or mentioned that the First of June Festival had been lovely despite everything. Their eyes said one thing while their mouths said another, and Sara Lee appreciated the restraint even as she recognized the hunger for information beneath it.
Gossip was ripe in a small town, but then so was care. And she wouldn't give up the care for anything.
She thought about that as she drove… about how Meadowlark Creek had been home until she left for college, and then after her parents were killed, it was what drew her back to the place that enveloped her. Much like it had enveloped Nana June throughout her whole life. There was something about knowing every road, every house, every face. Something about being known in return. It could be stifling sometimes, but it could also be the thing that held you together when everything else fell apart.
Thinking of Nana June made her smile.If I’m getting curious questions, Nana June must be inundated with them.Her grandmother had become something of a local celebrity in the past week… the woman who'd solved Raymond's death before the Sheriff had even officially found a suspect.
It had been a week since they'd talked to Diane in her small cottage. Just seven days, though it felt both longer and shorter than that. Time had a strange quality lately, stretching and compressing in ways that left Sara Lee slightly off-balance.
The news had started circulating the day after they'd talked to Diane. Sheriff Gordon had been discreet, but in a town the size of Meadowlark Creek, discretion only went so far. Someone had seen Diane going into the Sheriff's station with both Ted and George Smythe’s son, a new attorney in the area. Paired with the drug missing from Carl's clinic, the suspicious pieces had come together in the community’s consciousness the way they always did—part truth, part speculation, part wishful thinking.
Opinions were bandied about, concerns voiced, suggestions made, and gossip spread like wildfire through dry grass. Sara Lee had heard at least five different versions of what had happened, ranging frommostly accurate to wildly creative. But what had warmed her heart was that there seemed to be a groundswell of support for Diane.
The library volunteers rallied around her. Barb started a petition asking the library board to keep Diane on staff. Pastor Pete preached a sermon about mercy and second chances that everyone understood. Lucy, who’d been part of the gossip since it was her reason for being at the veterinary office that began the series of unfortunate events, quietly told people that Diane had been nothing but kind to her in her time of grief.
Sara Lee heard that even Judge Melton had gone to talk to Diane, since it appeared she might have been the last person to talk to Raymond before he died. No one knew what they'd said, but according to Nana June, who talked to Petunia, the judge was now planning his brother's quiet funeral with a renewed sense of family honor… not for Raymond as he'd been in recent years, but for the brother who had lost his way after childhood and managed to sever most ties from family.
Sara Lee thought about that as she drove. About how people could be terrible and broken and still deserving of some measure of dignity. About how Judge Melton, who'd been humiliated by his brother for decades, could still find it in himself to honor the memory of who Raymond might have been.
As she drove across the bridge over Meadowlark Creek, noting the water running higher than usual after recent rains, she slowed as she neared the vet clinic. Her heart ached thinking about Carl. Besides Diane, he was the one who had agonized the most with guilt.
The clinic sat back from the road, a modern single-story building with large windows and a cheerful blue door. The parking lot held a few cars, business as usual on a Thursday afternoon. But Sara Lee knew that behind the normal facade, Carl had been struggling.
Suddenly, as though conjured up from her thoughts, she spied him sitting alone at the small picnic table near the back of the building, probably taking a break between appointments. His shoulders were slumped, his head bent over what looked like a sandwich he wasn't eating.
Sara Lee pulled the bookmobile into the clinic's parking lot and climbed out, her heart doing that little flip it always did when she saw him. Even now, with everything that had happened, she responded to his presence with a kind of helpless awareness that she was still getting used to.
She approached slowly, giving him time to notice her. When he looked up, his face transformed. The weight lifted slightly, a smile breaking through the clouds of worry, genuine happiness at seeing her.
"Hey," she said softly.
"Hey, yourself." He gestured to the bench across from him. "Join me?"
She sat down, the warm wood of the picnic table sun-heated beneath her hands. They were in the shade of an old oak tree, its leaves rustling overhead. She looked up, seeking several meadowlarks singing amongst the branches. Sounds of dogs barking could be heard from inside the clinic. The scene was filled with ordinary sounds of an ordinary day.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, just being together. Sara Lee watched his profile… the strong line of his jaw, the way his hair fell across his forehead, the tension around his eyes that hadn't been there two weeks ago.
Finally, he said, "I had my state review committee video conference this morning, and a representative will come by later this week to go over the procedural changes we've made."
Sara Lee placed her hand on his arm, feeling the warmth of his skin, the slight tension in his muscles. "I'm so sorry, Carl."
"Don't be," he replied, shaking his head. His voice was firm despite the exhaustion in it. "I run a good clinic, but there was a procedural problem that needed to be addressed. Normally, neither I nor the tech ever sets down a syringe, but anything can happen with an animal or owner, and we need to stick to our set procedures at all times."
"Will there be a fallout?" Sara Lee asked quietly.
"I'll probably be fined and receive a probation period for the clinic to be checked and visited every three months for the next year. I'm also putting cameras in every room and every space in the clinic." He continued to shake his head, his jaw tight with self-recrimination. "So don't feel sorry for me. It was an error that through a series of bizarre circumstances, ended up taking Raymond's life. That's something I'll have to live with."
She opened her mouth to refute, but he shook his head before the words could come out.
“I understand that ultimately it was Raymond’sactions that caused his death, but the instrument was from my clinic.”
She nodded slowly, knowing there was nothing she could say to make him feel better. "Have you talked to the judge?" Sara Lee asked.
"Surprisingly, yes." Carl's expression shifted to something like wonder. "He came by the house two nights ago. He told me that as far as he could see, Raymond was on a path of self-destruction that was going to end in tragedy one way or the other. He said that he doesn't hold me responsible, any more than Diane."
Carl sighed, and Sara Lee heard the weight of the burden of guilt he was trying to process and accept. "It was good to hear, but I still have my own conscience."
"Of course you do," Sara Lee said gently. "That's part of what makes you who you are."
