“She’s here at my house right now, but listen, I need to talk to her about all this first. She may not be open to something like this.”
“Do you think she’ll say no?” She allowed no time for me to answer. “Tell her to read the Logan Bend Tribune this morning. I’ve helped solve cases before.”
“I saw the article.”
“You did? Why didn’t you say so?” Again, she didn’t wait for me to reply. “I’ll meet you two somewhere but it has to be private. Whoever did this is still around, and he’s dangerous.”
“How do you know?”
She made an impatient grunt. “Do we have to go over this again? I’m psychic.”
I ran my hand through my hair. This Moonstone might be psychic and she might be able to help us, but she gave me a first-class headache. Then another thought came to me. One that made my stomach feel as if it dropped to the floor. “Aren’t you worried whoever this guy is will see the paper this morning? What if he comes after you?”
“That’s a possibility. But I can’t worry about that kind of thing or I’ll get kicked out of my witch club. We make an oath, you know, to serve selflessly.”
“You…you have a club?”
“What else would we do? Anyhoo, where can we meet?”
“You could come out to my house. I have a locked gate, but I’ll punch you in when you arrive. But again, let me talk to Carlie first. I’ll call you back.”
“Groovy. I’ll be waiting.”
I hung up just as Carlie appeared. “Cole? What’s wrong?” She rushed over to me. “Are you ill? You’re pale as a ghost.”
I turned to face her. She put her hand to my forehead. “No fever.”
“I’m not sick. I’ve just had a shock.” I got up from the stool and guided her over to the couch. “I have something I need to tell you.”
Moonstone wore a bright purple blouse over white jeans. An ample but attractive woman in her late forties, her auburn hair was cut in layers around her round face.
“Thanks for having me,” Moonstone said as we all sat in my family room. She took the easy chair, and I sat next to Carlie on the couch.
“We’re grateful you reached out.” Carlie slipped her hand into mine. “What can you tell us?”
When I’d told Carlie about the exchange with Moonstone, she hadn’t hesitated. We should at least hear what she had to say, even if it led nowhere. Now, as I stole a glance at Carlie, her hopeful expression made my chest ache. Was this a mistake to get her hopes up?
“Let me lay it out as best I can,” Moonstone said. “I had a dream two nights ago where a pretty blonde in her teens came to me. She wore a cheerleading outfit with the name Elizabeth stitched into the fabric.”
Carlie’s grip on my hand tightened.
“She held a notebook in her hand.” Moonstone’s long earrings jangled as she sat forward in the chair. “A journal, I think.”
“Yes, she had one of those,” Carlie whispered. “I recently found it hidden. She wrote in it the summer she died.”
Moonstone’s eyes flickered. “Are there missing pages?”
Carlie nodded. “Yes. They were ripped out. I could see the remnants of three missing pages. The last entry is about a week before her death. I’ve felt they might hold important information.”
“In my dream, Beth said as much. She told me her family needs to find them.”
“Did she say where?” Carlie’s voice had taken on a high-pitched, desperate tone.
Moonstone scooted to the edge of the chair. “She said they were in a book. Her favorite book.”
“Oh, God,” Carlie said. “I packed away all her books and took them to the used bookstore last week. I don’t know if they’ll have them or not.”
“Let’s go there now,” Moonstone said. “It’s unlikely they were sold.”
We all stood at once.
“Do you have any idea what her favorite book was?” Moonstone asked as we headed toward the front door.
“There were two. One was a romance novel we read in secret,” I said. “Our mom didn’t approve of those kinds of books, so we had to sneak them home from the library. There was one she liked so much that she kept it and just paid the fine.”
“What was the other favorite book?” I asked.
“Black Beauty. My parents gave it to her for Christmas one year. She always wanted a horse. But I kept that one. There’s nothing in it. I don’t think, anyway.”
“It’ll be in the romance book,” Moonstone said. “I feel quite certain.”
The secondhand bookstore smelled of dust and old books. When we went in, a clerk with stark white hair and thick glasses greeted us. I hadn’t been in here since returning to Logan Bend. When I’d lived here back in the eighties, the building had housed a used record store. My brothers and I had frequented the place back then, pooling our money to buy Zeppelin, Springsteen, and Pink Floyd.
“Carlie, you’re back,” Martha said. “Do you have more books for me, or are you shopping this morning?”
“Actually, it’s neither of those,” Carlie said. “I’m wondering if you still have the books I brought last week.”
“I most likely have all of them,” Martha said. “It’s been a slow few weeks.”
“It was a romance book from the eighties. The cover had a—”
Martha cut Carlie off. “I know the exact one. A mostly naked man and a young redheaded woman. Had a good chuckle over that picture. I’d forgotten how delicious those old romance covers could be. Sucked you right in, didn’t they?”
“Sure,” Carlie said. “Do you still have it?”
“I didn’t put it out for sale. I decided to keep it for myself.”
Carlie let out a breath. “Oh, thank God. I need to take a look at it.”
“Hang on. I’ll get it from the office.” Martha hobbled toward a closed door. The woman was ninety if she was a day.
In the meantime,
