“Somewhere out in that mess in Bushrod Square, I suppose.” Then he gave her a curious look. “Aren’t you supposed to be in the parade?”
“I am, but I have an hour.” An hour to find him, but where could he be? “I’ll get this to him, I promise.”
As she stepped away, she glanced down at the papers before she could slide them into her bag. Her gaze landed on the third name on the alphabetical list.
Jamie Bell**
Wait. Could that be James Bell? The guy who wanted to buy the house and was being such a jerk to Declan last night?
She turned as Chief Winkler was headed back in. “Excuse me, Chief?” She pointed to the list. “This Jamie Bell? Who is he, and why are there asterisks next to his name?”
“One means he was a volunteer. The other means he was not at the fire, just on the vol roster. I don’t want Declan wasting any time going to talk to him.”
The James Bell she knew had said he used to live around here.
“Why? Do you know him?” the chief asked.
“I think I’ve met him.” She tipped her head, not even able to picture the thin man as a rugged firefighter. “I actually think he was in my house last night.”
“Oh, that’s a coincidence.” He shrugged. “Well, then I assume Declan talked to him already and knows he wasn’t at the fire that night.”
“No, they didn’t talk about…” She shook her head, thinking. “Would Declan know him for sure?”
He lifted a thick shoulder. “If the volunteer hung out at the station, but if he wasn’t called in much? Maybe not.”
“Would he know Declan?”
His eyes widened. “More than likely, yes.”
Then maybe the name was just a coincidence. It was common enough.
She thanked the chief and tucked the papers into her bag, but couldn’t shake the unnerving sense that crawled up her chest when she thought of the things that man had said to Declan. He knew the history of the house…and about the fire.
Was that a coincidence?
No. And Gloriana House was open right this minute—open and empty. They’d left the back door unlocked so the Historical Society ladies could get in to host the open house after the parade.
She needed to lock that door, and fast. She checked her watch and made a quick decision to head back to the bookstore, get her car, and zip up to the house right now. On her way, she broke down and called Declan, but it went straight to voice mail.
Where was he?
* * *
When Declan had parked his truck at the old campsite last night, the lights shining on the dock and lake, he’d braced for a long, ugly trip to the place he hated most. As he walked down the dirt path that he once ran before cannonballing into the lake with Evie, he imagined himself crawling into the old subterranean hellhole, ready to unpack some pain.
But when he sat down, the only thing he could unpack was the sound of Joe Mahoney’s voice.
All night long. In the chilly mountain air, he barely heard the lake waves splash against the wood pilings or the cool breeze through the pines. No, he heard a steady stream of Joe Mahoney’s life advice, from midnight until he finally crashed. And maybe even after that, Joe kept talking in Declan’s head.
And his message was loud, clear, and pointed. It started with, I didn’t raise you to waste your life wallowing over stuff you can’t change, and ended with a simple, Get your ass back to that woman, and don’t ever leave her again.
Now, Declan finally pushed up from the dock, squinting into the now bright sky over the mountain lake. A good night, he decided, even if it was hard, cold, and a little bit miserable at times.
He guessed by the sun that he had exactly enough time to drive back to Bitter Bark and get to town hall to stand on the steps to wave to his girl in the parade.
He made a face at the crick in his neck. Oh hell, his whole back was destroyed by a very long, chilly night with only Judah’s blanket from the truck and a wool jacket, once worn by a Bushrod, to keep him warm.
Both were covered in dog hair, but they’d done the job.
Now, he had to do his and get to Evie. He needed to tell her that he would leave his life, job, and family to follow her wherever she went. And they could keep or sell Gloriana House, whatever her family wanted. All she needed to do was understand that, and she’d believe he’d left the dark days behind.
As he walked to his truck, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, swearing softly at the black screen. His battery had died, but not before he’d sent a text to Chief Winkler telling him he wouldn’t be taking the job.
He snagged his keys, opened the truck, and tossed the blanket in the back. Stretching again, he slipped off the jacket, but folded it carefully, knowing it was valuable to Evie.
When he did, something fell out and clunked to the ground, making him inch back to see what it was. Damn. The lighter Max had given him to “help on his quest.”
He bent over and scooped it up, almost tossing it into the center console when an engraving on the front caught his eye. He stared at it for a moment, the outline vaguely familiar in the shape of a…
Bell.
He’d seen that…tattooed on the arm of James Bell, the asspain who started this. Was it the same design?
He angled the lighter into the light to study the engraving, which could simply be another bell, but it was a strangely unique shape, and he could still vividly see it on that man’s arm.
Penny found it on the grass while we were doing construction and insisted it was part of my collection, but I never saw that lighter before.
Maybe
