“I don't understand,” Dean frowns. “What is she doing there?”
“She must be waiting to talk to Lakyn,” I say. “To me, she looks as if she's just casually standing there, expecting to talk with her. I don't think she looks agitated or worried about anything, do you?”
“No,” everyone agrees.
“And you still have no clue who she is?” Dad asks.
“None,” I shake my head. “I haven't been able to find anything that says who's in this picture. The article it was attached to doesn't say anything about her; there's no caption other than identifying Lakyn. I still have no idea.”
“It can't be a coincidence that she's now linked to two people who have not…met the best of fates,” Eric points.
"We still don't know what happened to Lakyn,” I reply. “She could very well have just walked away.”
"I still don't think so, Emma," Bellamy says.
"I know. I know you don't," I say.
"And there aren't any coincidences. Things like this don't just happen," Sam says.
I can remember a time when he wouldn't have been that sure about that assertion. Sam used to be a lot more carefree. A lot more immediately trusting and willing to accept what was going on around him. I know I'm responsible for the changes that have come to him. In a way, I feel guilty about it. I never wanted to take that from him.
But Sam is strong. He has never been naive or gullible. I've given him openings to walk away. There have been so many times I've sat with him and just asked him to tell me to leave. I told him I would understand if he wanted his life to go back to the way it was before he called me and asked for my help on those cases. And I would. It would crack something inside me, and I would never be the same. But I would know he was safe.
Sam has never taken me up on it. Every time I gave him those options, he stopped me. The last time, he said to never do it again. He doesn't want to walk away. He doesn't want to go back.
“Do you still think she just walked away, Emma?" Dean asks. "Really believe it?"
"Right now, I don't know what I think," I say. “Part of me still completely believes she could have created this entire thing. But now that I'm learning more about what she's been doing with the prisons, and I see this picture, I'm not as sure.”
“I think you need to tell Detective White about this,” Dean says. “If this is all connected, he should know what's going on.”
“I know,” I say. “I was thinking the same thing.”
Sam and I look at each other. His hand slides over to hold mine.
“You have to go back,” he says.
“Yeah,” I sigh. “I think I do.”
Two days later, I'm back in Harlan. Fortunately, in the time I've been gone, Dean found a better hotel with another room vacant, so he was able to reserve it for me before I got there. He meets me in the lobby and helps me carry my bags onto the elevator and up to the third floor. I'm not in the mood to have to go shopping for new clothes every couple of days, so considering I don't know how long I might be here, I brought along enough to carry me through at least a couple weeks. I've included a couple of business attire options. I’ve found that when I'm involved in investigations, dressing the part gets me better responses.
"So, now that you're here, I can fill you in," Dean starts as he sets my bag on the bed.
"What's going on?" I ask.
"I finally got in touch with Lilith, the owner of that house," he says. My eyes widen, and he nods. "But it turns out things aren't as interesting in that area as we thought they might be. She's nice. Kind of dull. Nothing really particularly dynamic or charismatic about her.”
“Sounds familiar,” I say. “Maybe that was a particular trait she looked for in a renter. A personality like hers.”
Dean chuckles and nods. “Maybe. I asked about Eleanor Goldman. Told her I was just looking into some things and was having trouble getting in touch with her. She immediately told me Eleanor is in the hospital.”
“Oh no,” I say. “What's wrong?”
“It actually didn't sound like anything was wrong,” Dean says. “She didn't sound concerned, anyway. She just said Eleanor was in the hospital for some surgery and would be recovering for a few more days, then would be home.”
“Did she ask about Mason?” I ask.
“No,” he says. “She seemed perfectly fine with just answering the questions I had for her, then ending the conversation.”
“Do the police know you talked to her?”
“They weren't with me, if that's what you're asking. But I highly doubt they're going to want to go to the hospital and notify a woman recovering from surgery that her husband was found burned beyond recognition on the side of the road,” he says.
“Actually, they would. They're going to want to notify her as soon as possible. If she's conscious, they're going to want to talk to her about what's going on and see if she knows anything. The sooner they talk to her, the better.”
He lets out a sigh. “Then I guess I'm going to have a chat with the detective.”
“You can come with me,” I tell him.
“You're already going up there?” he asks.
“I'm not wasting any time. I need to find out who this woman is. For Greg and for Lakyn.”
Chapter Thirty-One
"Emma, you're back," Noah says as he comes into the waiting area.
"Yes. I was looking into everything while I was home in Sherwood, and there's something I wanted to ask you about,” I say.
He steps back and gestures for me to go ahead of him. Dean falls
