Her mother had then gone on to describe other, mundane events.
Avery frowned, her investigative instincts kicking into over-drive. Pregnant? Nothing else she had read had mentioned the woman being pregnant. Avery flipped ahead, looking for another reference.
She didn't find one. Could her mother have been mistaken? That didn't seem likely. Where had she gotten her information?
Maybe from her husband, Avery thought. The local general practitioner. Perhaps Sallie Waguespack's physician. Probably.
So why had that information been kept from the public?
Avery read on, heart racing, realizing that all the answers she sought were here, in her mother's words.
Phillip was quiet today. Something is terribly wrong but he won't speak of it.
And then later,
Phillip and Buddy argued. They aren't speaking and it pains me that such good friends are being torn apart by something like this.
Something like what? Avery wondered. Sallie Waguespack's murder? Had they been on opposite sides of the tide of public opinion?
Avery found no further mention of conflict between the two friends or about the murder or investigation until a passage that caused her heart to skip a beat.
Buddy has involved himself in something…a group. There's seven of them. Something secret. I heard him trying to convince Phillip to join.
Avery stopped, working to collect her thoughts. Buddy a member of the original Seven? Trying to convince her father to join? She read on.
Phillip went out tonight; he met with that group, The Seven. He seemed troubled when he returned. I'm concerned… Everything is different now. Everything has…changed.
Avery glanced at her watch, shocked to see that nearly two hours had passed already. There were so many journals yet to read. She needed another pair of eyes.
Hands shaking, she dug in her pocket for the paper she had scrawled Gwen's cell number on. She dialed the number, left a message and stood, a ripple of unease moving over her. Where was Gwen?
To hell with stealth, she decided, hurrying for the attic stairs, stopping when she reached them. Turning, she darted back to the boxes of journals. She bent, collected the ones from 1988 and 1990, then ran for the stairs.
Minutes later, journals stuffed into her handbag, she backed her SUV down the driveway. She reached The Guesthouse in no time at all, parked in front and hurried up the walk. As she made a move to grab the doorknob, the door opened.
Avery jumped backward, making a sound of surprise.
Her old friend Laurie stepped through.
'Avery,' she said, looking startled. 'This is so weird. I was just thinking about you. I've meant to call or stop by, but it's been nuts around here what with Fall Festival and-'
'Don't worry about it. It's good to see you.'
Laurie glanced at her watch. 'I'd love to chat, but I'm late.'
'Actually, I stopped by to see Gwen Lancaster. Is she in?'
Laurie drew her eyebrows together. 'Gwen Lancaster? The woman in 2C?'
'Yes. Is she here?'
'I don't know. I haven't seen her today.'
'When's the last time you did see her? It's important.'
The other woman frowned. 'I don't know…I don't keep tabs on our guests.'
Realizing how she sounded, Avery forced a laugh. 'Of course you don't. If she's not there, could I leave her a note?'
'Sure, Avery. No law against that.' She hitched her purse strap higher on her shoulder, started off, then stopped and looked back at Avery, eyes narrowed. 'Gwen Lancaster's not from around here. How do you know her?'
Avery lifted a shoulder in feigned nonchalance. 'We met down at the Azalea Cafe. Hit it off.'
'Oh.' Laurie frowned slightly. 'Her brother's the one who disappeared. Tom. He stayed with us, too.'
'I'd heard that.'
'A girl can't be too careful, Avery.'
Chill bumps raced up her arms. Had that been a warning? A threat?
Or nothing at all but small-town gossip?
'It seems that in this case,' Avery murmured, 'a guy can't be too careful, either.'
The woman hesitated, then laughed, the sound lacking warmth. 'I've got to go,' she said. 'See you around.'
Avery watched her walk away, then turned and headed inside. The front desk was empty; she trotted up the stairs, to the end of the hall.
She half expected to find Gwen's door as she had last time- propped open, chaos inside.
It was closed tight. She knocked, waited a moment, then knocked again. 'Gwen,' she called softly. 'It's Avery.'
Still no answer. From downstairs came the sound of the front door opening and closing. She glanced over her shoulder, saw she was alone, then tried the door. And found it locked.
Reassured, she took the notepad and pen out of her purse, scrawled a brief note asking Gwen to call her on her cell, ASAP, telling her she had found something important. She wrote the number, bent and slid the note under the door.
She turned and found Laurie standing a dozen feet behind her. Avery laughed nervously. 'You surprised me, Laurie. I thought you'd left.'
'This is a nice place to live, Avery,' the woman said. 'You don't know, you've been away.'
'Pardon me?'
'Folks around here like things the way they are. I thought you should know that.'
Avery stared at her old friend, heart thundering. 'You're referring to The Seven, aren't you?'
'I don't know what you're talking about.'
'Yes, you do. The Seven. The ones who keep Cypress Springs a nice place to live. By whatever means necessary.'
'Gwen Lancaster is a troublemaker. An outsider.' Laurie took a step back. 'We take care of our own. You should know that. You used to be one of us, too.'
CHAPTER 47
Hunter!' Avery called, rapping on his door. 'It's me. Avery.'
When he didn't answer after a moment, she called out again, urgency pressing at her. Time was running out. She had found the clues to the past and Sallie Waguespack's murder. She had proof The Seven existed. She had figured out how her father had been killed. She knew from experience that once the pieces of a story began falling into place, anything could happen. And it usually happened fast.
She needed to uncover the killer's identity. Why he had done it.
Before it was too late. Before he killed again.
If he hadn't already,
Sarah whined and pawed at the door. Avery peered through the window at the obviously empty kitchen. Where was Hunter? It had been several hours since they'd spoken; he'd said he would get back to her. Why hadn't he?
She checked her watch, frowning. He could have gone for a run.
To the grocery or out for lunch. He could be over at the Gazette, researching how Dr. Badeaux had died.
Sure, she reassured herself. That was it. He was fine. He-
