David felt his lips twitch and a light chuckle break from his chest.
Susan pulled the Jeep to the right, bumping over the entrance of the drive and pulled to a stop. “Come on, if you’re nice I might even buy you ice-cream.”
“This is your favorite restaurant?”
“Yes. Do you have a problem with it?”
“No,” David spluttered climbing out of the Jeep. “I’m just surprised.”
Susan shook her head giving the man a dirty look. “Well if you don’t like DQ you can wait here.”
David hurried to catch up still chuckling. “Can I have a peanut buster parfait?” his spirits lifted as he teased.
“Only if you eat all of your lunch,” Susan shot him a harsh look, then fell into peals of laughter. At least she had managed to lift his spirits after the demolition of his truck and the confirmation that his journal of evidence was nowhere to be seen.
“I still can’t believe that of all the places in town you chose lunch here.” David smiled looking down at his empty burger wrapper as he dug into the towering pillar of ice-cream, peanuts, and hot chocolate topped with an extra portion of whipped cream.
Susan rolled her baby blues but smiled. “Just because my family has been here forever, and just because we made out well with my great granddaddy’s peach farm doesn’t mean we are snobs. I like burgers and fries as much as anyone else, and you’ve been at the house long enough to know we are perfectly normal people.”
“I’m not sure about the normal part of that.” David’s grin was wicked as he studied the pretty young woman’s face.
Susan grabbed her rolled up straw paper flicking it at the man and laughing as it pinged off his nose. “I am normal,” she grinned.
David laughed the feeling of despair evaporating in the brightening sun. “Thank you,” he whispered his dark eyes serious. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come to see me at the hospital. I can’t even get myself home right now.”
Susan shook her head, sticking her bright red spoon upright in her peanut butter cup blizzard. “I’m sure you would have figured out something,” she replied. “You seem to be a rather resourceful person.”
David shook his head feeling his face flush. “No, I’m not, really. I’m not afraid of hard work, but I’ve never been good at making connections and keeping up with friends. I think my obsession with grandpa Watkins’ disappearance put people off.”
“It doesn’t put me off.” Susan looked up meeting his light brown gaze. “You have already helped me find more clues in the past two days than I have in two years. We are very close to real answers.” She leaned across the table, her expression intense. “I can feel it.”
David didn’t know what to say, so remained quiet waiting to see what else Susan might say.
“Look, tomorrow is Sunday. Why don’t you come to church with me and Gram and then we’ll hike up to the little falls in the afternoon. We’ll just relax and let all the information and facts percolate into our brains. Maybe by Monday, we’ll have some idea what to do next.”
David felt himself nodding his head, wondering what he was agreeing to. A warm rush of emotion seemed to flood him as Susan spoke and a feeling he was completely unprepared for washed over him. Was he starting to like the spoiled little rich girl, he had never really known? Could a few days in Ms. Holmes presence have this odd effect on him? Somewhere between an oversized ice-cream and an over turned truck, something had happened to him to change his attitude toward the whole Holmes family.
Instead of a nosey, overbearing brat, he was discovering a hard working, determined woman with a good head on her shoulders, and the courage to press forward on a case that might never come to an end.
Susan felt the eyes of the congregation on her as she stood next to David Watkins. He looked handsome in a dark blue suit, and red striped tie, with his sandy hair neatly brushed into a side part.
Susan had never been one to bring a young man to church before, but by the way her grandmother was beaming, you would have thought she had won a great prize.
As they finished the third song from the old hymnals, a tiny shiver raced down Susan’s spine, and she turned trying to figure out who was watching her. The notion flickered through her mind and she pushed it away. Everyone she knew was looking at her, and she was torn between enjoying the admiration having a handsome man next to her brought, and a feeling of dread at not only the assumptions other parishioners might have, but the potential of an assailant lurking somewhere in their midst.
“Are you alright?” David asked leaning down at Susan’s worried look.
“It’s nothing,” she said forcing a smile as her mind turned over a new thought. If Old Mr. Watkins had been murdered all those years ago, could the killer still be alive? If so had they been living right here in this little town in the northern hills of Georgia all this time?
Susan looked between her grandmother and the young man at her side suddenly understanding how dangerous her simple decision to find out where two stray horses had come from really was. It was even possible that the person responsible for the mysterious disappearance of an old fashioned moonshiner was singing hymns in this hallowed space.
“We’ll talk after the service,” Susan finally hissed. Nodding and smiling at the curious faces around her.
“You have been very quiet,” David said as they trudged up the rugged trail toward a favorite hangout of generations of students at the school. “Is something wrong?”
“I’m
