“Wow. Beautiful.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty nice.”
“You fit here, Shelby.”
I had nothing to say to that. “The bathroom’s over there.”
“Thanks.”
He went to do what he had to do, and I waited next to the front door. That was rude, but I wasn’t offering an invitation to stay. He came back a couple of minutes later, admiring some of the church paintings that Dad had saved. When he looked at me, I saw him take note of the outline of my body, and I was uncomfortably aware of the fact that I wasn’t wearing anything under the robe. He looked away quickly, but I knew we were both having the same memories, no matter how much I tried to crowd them out of my mind.
“Thanks,” he said again.
“Sure.”
“Did you find whoever was lurking in the cemetery yesterday?”
I knew he was stalling, because he didn’t want to go.
“It was Anna.”
“Anna Helvik? Trina’s daughter?”
“Yes.”
“You and Trina are pretty close, aren’t you?”
“Yes, we are.”
He didn’t say anything more, but he still didn’t leave. I was impatient, partly because I needed to get back into town, partly because spending time with Keith was like watching a movie highlights reel showing off all of my questionable decisions in life. I didn’t know what he was expecting. I was hoping it wasn’t sex, because I wasn’t entirely sure I would say no. Whatever else had happened between us, I still felt the same old attraction to him.
“What do you want, Keith?” I asked finally. “What are you doing here?”
He didn’t answer immediately. Then he shrugged and said, “I hate being home these days. I feel like Colleen is haunting me.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. But as they say in the bars, you don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here.”
“I know. This is awkward for you. It is for me, too. When I saw you yesterday, I was reminded of all the rough edges we left behind. I suppose there’s nothing we can do about that.”
“No. There isn’t.”
“Okay. I’ll go.”
As Keith went by me onto the threshold, he was close enough to brush past my body, which gave me a little shock of electricity. Then he turned around before I closed the door.
“One more thing, Shelby.”
“What is it?”
“I also wanted to tell you — just so we’re very clear about it — I had nothing to do with Jeremiah’s disappearance.”
His words came out of nowhere, and I couldn’t hide my surprise.
“Why would I think you did? Is there something you haven’t told me?”
“No.”
“Do you know anything about what happened to him?”
“Nothing at all.”
“Then why say something like that?”
“Because sooner or later, I’ll be a suspect. And I want you to know right now that I’m innocent.”
“What makes you think you’ll be a suspect?”
Keith shook his head sadly. He flipped his hair back again. “Because of Colleen. Because the whole town thinks I murdered her. I guarantee you, people are already making up stories about me and Jeremiah. They need someone they can blame for this, right or wrong, and I’m the easy choice. Everybody is looking for an Ursulina, Shelby. They won’t stop until they find one.”
After Keith left, I wondered if he was right. Were people really talking about him as a suspect?
And if so, what were they saying about me?
I didn’t think anyone knew about my affair with Keith, but I might have been naive about that. Everyone saw us hanging out together after the Halloween fair. It doesn’t take much more than that to get whispers flying through the town. Rumors are like motor oil here, lubing up every conversation, and sex is a favorite topic. I wouldn’t have been surprised to find out that tongues had been wagging about me and Keith.
My relationship with him was a one-time thing. Literally one time. But the damage was already done.
Little wonder I had decided at that point in my life that I was better off without dating, romance, hookups, or sex. Between my job and my friends, I didn’t have time for men. Some of the local guys would have liked to change my mind, but the rule of numbers in a small town meant that pickings were slim.
Sure, I’d dated. Most people around here figured my high school boyfriend and I would get married, but that was never going to happen. He was cute, and you have to learn about sex somewhere, but I knew it was a short-term thing. After that, I went out a few times and endured a few fix-ups. None of them turned into anything serious.
And then there was Keith.
By the morning after Halloween, I was already regretting what had happened with him. Actually, I was regretting it as I drove back home overnight at three in the morning. Keith called the next day, but I ducked his call. He called four more times over the next week, and I let all of them go to voicemail. I was determined never to talk to him again and never see him again.
That lasted until the evening of November 14, when Adam and I responded to the 911 call at his house.
We found Colleen Whalen dead in the tall grass. Shot in the head. Keith said he’d come home from a hiking trip and found her. He blamed a burglar for the crime. He said much of his wife’s jewelry was missing, including her wedding ring and an expensive watch she’d given him for their anniversary.
And a gun.
A gun he owned had disappeared, too.
There was no way to prove he was lying and no way to prove he was telling the truth. Did my father believe him? No. Did Adam? No. But not believing someone didn’t mean you could put them in jail.
Did the people of Everywhere believe him? No. The rumors and gossip in town all declared Keith guilty.
What about me? Did I believe him?
I’d thought about that question for months, but I still had no answer.
All I knew is that while I was standing over Colleen’s body, Adam asked Keith how things were in their marriage, and Keith replied, “Fine.”
That was a lie. I knew it was a lie. But I didn’t say a word.
Chapter Twelve
I met my father at the Nowhere Café an hour later. He hadn’t slept at all, but sometime during the night he’d ironed his uniform, and his hat wasn’t even a single degree off-kilter. He was eating a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon at the counter, and he had the newspaper folded in front of him to the daily crossword puzzle. Breezy was late getting to work, and the coffee pot in the diner was already getting dangerously low.
Everything looked normal around here, but in fact, nothing was normal at all. This was Saturday. Day two. Jeremiah had been gone for an entire night.
“Morning, Dad,” I said as I took the seat next to him at the counter.
“Hello, Shelby. Did you sleep?”
“A little. I wish you had, too.”
“Something tells me I’ll have plenty of free time when the FBI arrives.”
“So they’re really coming?”
“The governor called me personally to ask for my cooperation. Also, the statewide media has picked up the story. It’s all over TV. I imagine we’re going to be inundated very soon.”
I looked around at our sleepy café. It wouldn’t be sleepy here much longer. We were about to be swarmed by strangers asking questions, giving us suspicious looks, digging into our private lives, and studying our behavior as if we were exotic animals at the zoo. Cops. Reporters. Volunteers. Gawkers. You could almost feel the town holding its breath, waiting for the invasion like the return of the mayflies. Most of us who live here don’t really trust outsiders, for the simple reason that outsiders who come here don’t really trust us.