“What does that mean?” Beth asked, and Taylor saw Isabelle creep away from the discussion.
“It means… nothing.” She didn’t want her aunt worrying about her while she was there, at least not any more than she would normally. “Just that it took a missing girl for me to get enough nerve to come see you. Strange how that works, isn’t it?”
Darrel answered from the kitchen, a piece of pizza in his hand. “I always knew you were a tough one. I used to think your dad was a big wuss, until I saw what he did. He became one of us. You’re one of us too.”
Brent stood there beside Taylor, a confused look spread on his face. “You were there that night?” he asked Darrel.
“Sure. Nick, Tyler – who’s now the sheriff – Jason, God rest his soul, and Paul were with me. And old Cliffy. That was one hell of a team.” Darrel took a bite of his pizza, and Taylor’s aunt looked about ready to admonish her husband for speaking of things so openly. But she didn’t.
“It’s also a good way to get yourself killed,” Beth muttered, and Taylor followed her to the kitchen table. She was suddenly ravenous, and the smell of the pizza made her stomach grumble. Brent didn’t hesitate; he grabbed a slice and began to devour it, listening with interest.
“If we didn’t go that night, Taylor here wouldn’t be standing here talking to us, and a lot more children wouldn’t have grown up either. We can’t be afraid to go out on a limb for the ones we love, right, Taylor?” Darrel asked her, and she nodded. Her uncle was being so kind to her, and his words were inspiring; reiterating what she’d come to Red Creek for in the first place.
“I go there every now and then, you know,” Darrel said between bites. They were all finally sitting, each with a plate catching droppings from the messy pizza.
“Where?” Taylor asked, thinking she knew the answer already. The orchard.
“Where Granny Smith’s used to be,” he said.
Taylor’s aunt seemed furious, but Taylor got the impression she knew to bite her tongue. They were a funny couple, but it had been clear since Taylor was a little kid that they loved each other, especially after what happened. Her dad said Darrel was like a different man after that ordeal.
“What’s there now?” Taylor asked. She’d done some digging, but no mapping images had been updated on the town for years, not since before…
“Condo complex. The Orchards, they called it. Almost funny, if you think about it.” Darrel got up and seized a beer from the fridge, offering another to Brent, who swayed a half-full can and shook his head. Taylor smiled at her boyfriend.
“Condos. Anything to see there?” she asked.
“Not really. The project started when things were heating up in town. The orchard had been burned so badly, they didn’t think an orchard would be sustainable again, and with the Smiths gone, a developer got it cheap. I worked on the construction crew.” His eyes met Taylor’s. She remembered the story now.
“That was almost seven years ago, right?”
“Yep. They only built one building before the town lost its appeal to tourists, hoping to see the infamous site of Granny Smith’s. It’s kind of a shithole these days,” her uncle said.
“Darrel, watch your language,” Beth said, and Taylor took a good look at her aunt. The woman didn’t seem like she’d aged in a few years, still pretty at forty-five, but she likely hadn’t slept much lately.
“They’re all grown up, babe. I don’t think I can say anything they haven’t heard before.” Darrel grabbed another slice, and Taylor noticed Isabelle was pecking away at her first piece of vegetarian.
Her cousin hadn’t said a word since her mom had gotten home. Taylor made a mental note to check out the condos around the old orchard. She’d intended to go out there at some point in the next couple days and do some snooping. Her list was getting longer.
Beth changed the subject to school, and Brent and Taylor talked about life at Bellton, and Isabelle finally joined the conversation, telling them about the online courses she was taking from the local community college. Taylor saw Isabelle’s eyes go wide as she talked about her dreams of getting a business degree. She was interested in fashion and wanted to use the education to understand marketing and operations.
Taylor was impressed and told her so. Darrel had kept quiet, but Taylor noticed him assessing his daughter as she talked about wanting to go to a nice college one day. It was only a matter of time before he allowed Taylor’s dad to pay for it. It was the right thing to do, and she thought her uncle was finally cluing in.
Darrel gave her a knowing glance and tilted his head as if to say “fine, I accept,” and the edges of Taylor’s eyes crinkled as she smiled at him in reply.
Two slices of pizza and a diet Coke later, Taylor was stuck thinking about the box in the basement.
Eight
“What the hell kind of operation are you running here, Sheriff?” Detective Tom Bartlett’s blood was pumping as he stormed into the office behind the secretary’s perch.
The man behind the desk didn’t look distraught at the outburst. He actually had the gall to smirk at Tom. “I’ve been busy today. You do know there are more things going on in this town than Brittany Tremblay’s disappearance.”
Sheriff Tyler Bruno was a big man. Where most men his age had lost muscle mass to fat, Tom could tell he was in shape. His wide chest threatened to burst his uniform buttons as he leaned forward before getting off his chair. He came to stand in front of Tom, but the detective didn’t back down.
“And I’m sure a fender-bender on the side roads or a drunk shooting his rifle at a stray cat is as
