"Answer it," Josephine commanded.
Kara reluctantly picked up the receiver. "Recreation center."
"Kara? Hi, it's Ryan. I have a small problem."
"Don't tell me -- you're in jail, too."
"It wasn't my fault."
"Oh, God, what did you do to Andrew?"
"Hey, I'm the one with a black eye."
"I'll be right there."
"Could you bring my wallet with you? I left it at the Gatehouse."
Kara hung up the phone without replying, anger and frustration stirring her blood. "Ryan's in jail, too."
"At least no one's dead."
"It's still early," Kara said darkly as she grabbed her purse and headed home.
"Kara will be here in a few minutes," Ryan announced as he set the phone down on Dirk Anders's desk. "She said she would be happy to help me."
"Only because you're a paying guest at the Gatehouse. Otherwise she would have let you sit here for the rest of forever," Andrew replied, sitting in the straight-back chair next to Ryan's.
"That's it. I've heard enough." Dirk stood up.
"You're letting us go?" Ryan asked hopefully.
"No, I'm locking you up. You two want to have at it, fine, but I don't have to listen to it." He led them down a hallway and opened the door to a cell. "Go on, get in there."
"Look, Dirk, can't we talk about this?" Andrew asked.
"No."
Ryan smiled as Andrew walked into the cell.
"You, too," Dirk said, pushing Ryan through the doorway.
"Hey, I want my own cell," Ryan said.
"This isn't the Hilton, boys."
"There's only one cot. Where is he supposed to sit?" Andrew asked, pointing at Ryan.
"That's not my problem. Maybe it's about time the two of you learned how to share."
"I'd rather sit on the floor," Andrew said.
"Then do it." Ryan walked over to the cot and sprawled across it.
Dirk slammed the door shut, and they were alone.
Neither one spoke for ten long minutes. Ryan lay on the cot and stared at the ceiling for most of that time, counting the square tiles, wondering if the sprinklers would really go off in case of a fire. His gaze moved over to the brick walls, to the dirt and grime that clung to the floor that Andrew was sitting on. He had been in this cell before, years earlier. He had been scared out of his mind then, afraid of his anger, his lack of control, and most of all afraid of Jonas's reaction.
Now Ryan felt resigned, more frustrated than angry. He shouldn't have raced Andrew, and he shouldn't have tried to fight him. Hadn't he learned anything in twelve years?
"I want you to stay away from Kara," Andrew said, interrupting his thoughts.
It was the worst thing Andrew could have said. Ryan hated it when people told him he couldn't do something or have something. "Why should I?"
"Because she's mine."
"Does she know that?"
"She knows."
But Andrew didn't sound all that certain. Not surprising, really. Ryan had a feeling Kara would never be anyone's possession. She had too much fire, too much passion, too much heart, too much stubbornness. Otherwise she wouldn't have invited him to the centennial.
He couldn't see Andrew with Kara at all. But then he hadn't believed Andrew and Becky Lee would get together either. Obviously his older brother had something that appealed to women.
The silence ate away the years between them. As the long minutes passed, the petty bickering of the past hour faded into the quiet, and Ryan's thoughts turned to Becky Lee.
"Why didn't you tell me Becky Lee died?" Ryan asked, voicing the question that had been constantly on his mind since the day before.
Andrew met Ryan's gaze head-on for the first time that day. "I figured when she didn't show up at your place, you would probably come looking for her."
He said the words as if he didn't care, but Ryan didn't believe for an instant that Andrew had taken her departure so easily.
"I didn't know she was coming," Ryan said. "I didn't ask her to come."
"That's not what she said."
"She lied." Ryan sat up and swung his legs down on the ground. "The last note I got from Becky Lee was a birth announcement. I never called her. I never wrote to her. I never said one damn word to make her leave you."
Andrew's face drew into a taut line. Ryan suddenly realized how old they both were now, how many years had passed between them. His older brother had gray hair in his sideburns and wrinkles under his eyes. There was a weariness in his expression that spoke of pain and anger, most of it directed at him.
"I never would have asked Becky Lee to leave you, not with her having a kid and all," Ryan added. "Besides, she chose you. She wanted you. That was the end for me."
He couldn't help the bitterness that crept into his voice. Becky Lee had hurt him when she married Andrew, more than he would have thought possible. Over the years he had told himself it was for the best. He wasn't the marrying kind then, and he wasn't the marrying kind now. And more than anything Becky Lee had wanted to be married. That's what he couldn't figure. Why had she left Andrew when she finally had everything she ever wanted -- a husband, a home, and a baby?
"It wasn't the end for her," Andrew said so softly that Ryan had to strain to hear him.
"Why? What happened between you two to make her leave?"
"Nothing."
A man of few words, that was his brother.
"There had to be something."
"If there was, she didn't say."
Ryan wondered if Andrew really believed that. Or if his brother just couldn't stand telling him the truth. Andrew always had to have someone to blame. And it looked as if Ryan was it -- as usual. Andrew had blamed Ryan for everything bad in his life -- when he wasn't blaming his mother, that is.
"So, did you find her?" Andrew asked abruptly.
Ryan started at the change in topic, wondering how Andrew had followed the line of his thoughts so clearly. "Mom?"
Andrew nodded, his expression carefully guarded.
Ryan was suddenly reminded that they had another woman in common besides Becky Lee, and that woman was their mother. Isabelle's desertion had built the first wall between them. Becky Lee had built the second. For a moment he saw Kara in his mind and wondered if they were heading down the same road -- if they were bound by some force, some destiny, to keep repeating the mistakes of their past.
"You looked for her, didn't you?" Andrew asked again, his voice gruff as if he didn't really care about the answer.
Ryan took in a deep breath, not sure he could talk to Andrew about his mother. They had never agreed on why Isabelle had left. Andrew had blamed his mother for walking out. Ryan had blamed his father for forcing her to choose between Serenity Springs and her dreams.
They had both been too stubborn to ever see the other side.
"I never found her," Ryan said. "I hired a private detective a few years back. He couldn't pick up a trail. Said it was too cold. It had been almost twenty years by then."
"I guess she didn't want to be found."
"It's strange, though. The detective said he never saw anyone disappear quite so thoroughly before. No trace of her anywhere. No bank stubs, no phone bills, no credit cards, nothing."
"She always was pretty good at playing hide-and-seek," Andrew said, a genius at understatement.
Ryan grinned. "Remember that time she hid in the old oak chest at the foot of her bed? We couldn't find her for the longest time. We looked everywhere. And then we heard Dad go into the kitchen -- "
"And he said he was going to start dinner," Andrew continued.
"Which meant he was turning on the stove, and we suddenly -- "
"Thought Mom was hiding in the oven and -- "
"You went screaming into the kitchen that Dad was going to turn Mom into the Gingerbread Girl."
Andrew bit back a smile. "He got mad."
"At Mom," Ryan said, his grin fading. "Yelled at her for playing stupid games with us. Remember?"
Andrew's smile faded, too. He didn't say anything for a long moment. "I forgot about that part. But he was right. I mean ..." Andrew stopped himself. "Actually he wasn't right. He was wrong."
"Well, that's a first for you, big brother, admitting that Jonas actually made a mistake."
"I know he made mistakes, but he didn't leave us, and she did. I can't forgive her for that."
Ryan wondered if it was time to tell Andrew the truth. But was he ready to hear it?
"Andrew? There's something -- "
"Shut up, Ryan. Just shut the hell up. You always did talk too much."
"And you never did want to listen." Ryan lay back on the cot and closed his eyes. Only his mother had listened to him. Never Jonas. Never Andrew. Not even Becky Lee had really listened to him. A wave of loneliness swept through him as he and Andrew sat silently, ten feet away from each other physically but miles away emotionally.
Why the hell had he come back?
"Why are we coming back here?" Melissa demanded as Angel led them down the riverbank.
"Because this is where I saw the ghost last night," Angel replied as Billy and Melissa kept up with her. "The lady was in the trees over there." She pointed to a large oak tree with branches that swept along the surface of the rising river.
"I don't believe you saw a ghost. You're making it up," Melissa said.
Angel shook her head. "I'm not. She was sitting on the lowest branch, and she was wearing a bright yellow and red scarf with big flowers all over it. I almost thought she was part of the sun for a minute. But then she turned her head and told me to come closer."
"Did you?" Billy asked.
Angel sat down on a log. "Yes. She had the prettiest voice. It sounded like a song you would hear in church."
"What did she say?" Melissa asked.
"She said she was looking for a friend, that she was lonely. I told her that sometimes I get lonely, too, because I miss my friends back home and my dad. She told me I could come and talk to her any time."
"How come you're the only one who sees her?" Melissa asked skeptically, planting her hands on her hips.
"Maybe because I'm the only one who believes in her. Maybe if you tried believing, you would see her, too."
Melissa rolled her eyes. "I'm hungry. Let's go to my house and get some lunch."
"I thought we were going to Tucker's Bridge," Billy said. "I want to see how high the water is."
"I'm tired of looking at this stupid river," Melissa said. "I'm going home. Are you coming, Angel?"
Angel shook her head. "I'll go with Billy. But I'll see you at dinner tonight. Okay?"
"Okay," Melissa grumbled as she ran up the bank and disappeared from sight.
"Oh, shoot," Billy said suddenly. "Melissa borrowed my watch and didn't give it back."
"You can probably catch her. I'll wait here."
Angel sat down on a fallen log. She put her hands over her eyes as the sun broke through a cloud, suddenly blinding her. It disappeared almost as fast. Angel blinked at the changing light, suddenly seeing a shadow by the very tree she had used in her story.
A shadow made up of yellow and red colors. The form slowly took shape, the shape of a woman.
Angel blinked her eyes again.
"Hello, Angel."
She turned her head, but there was no one behind her, only this very odd shadow in front of her.
"You're right. I am lonely," the lady said.
Angel's mouth dropped open. "What? Who are you?"
"The lady you spoke about."
"But I -- I was just making that up."
"I am sad," the lady continued. "I miss my family."
"You do?"
"Just like you miss your father and your friends. It's difficult to say good-bye to those we love, isn't it?"
Angel suddenly felt like crying. The lady's voice was so soothing. "I didn't want to say good-bye to my dad, but I had to, because my parents got a divorce. They don't love each other anymore. I -- I don't think my dad loves me anymore either."
"How could he not love you?" the lady asked. "You're such a beautiful girl, so full of spirit and imagination."
"I caused trouble, you know, with him and my mom. It's my fault they split up."
"That's not possible. If they loved each other enough, there is nothing you could have done to break them up."
"Really?" Angel asked hopefully. She wanted to believe that was true.
"I need your help, Angel," the lady continued.
"You do?" Angel asked, her eyes widening.
"Yes. I lost my locket somewhere along the bank. It's gold, and it has pictures of my children inside it. Will you help me find it?"
"Uh, sure. I guess."
"It's very important," the lady said urgently, sounding desperate. "I can't leave here until I find it."
"Why not?"
"Because I can't leave them. This might be my last chance, Angel. When the river rises, everything comes up with it, everything that's been buried...." Her voice faded away, and the colors of her scarf turned pale, then white, then gray, until there didn't appear to be anything left.
"Who are you talking to?" Billy asked, coming up behind Angel.
She started with surprise. "Why -- I was talking to the ghost."
Billy grinned. "Right."
"No, I mean it."
"Come on, Angel. I want to take a look at the bridge."
"But she was right there, Billy. Just like I said." Angel pointed to the tree. But no one was there. Had she imagined it? Had she fallen asleep for a minute? There were a lot of shadows, and she didn't really believe in ghosts.
"Are you coming or not?"
"Coming."
But Angel couldn't help taking one last look as she followed Billy down the riverbank. The lady's voice still rang through her head. She had said something about a locket. Instinctively Angel looked down at the ground then felt foolish. The river went on for miles, finally dumping into the ocean.
If anyone had lost a locket along this river, it was long gone by now.
"How long are you planning to keep them locked up?" Kara asked Dirk when she arrived at the jail.
He smiled at her. "What's your pleasure?"
"How about forever? I cannot believe this. I am putting on the biggest dinner this town has seen in a hundred years, and not only is the guest of honor in jail but so is the town's only reporter."
"Damned inconsiderate of them, I'd say," Dirk agreed. "Sit down, Kara."
"I'm too angry to sit down." But she did anyway because Dirk had a way of getting people to do what he wanted without raising his voice. He was the perfect sheriff -- smart, calm, and patient.
In some ways he reminded her of her father. Dirk had the same broad girth as Harry Cox, the same twinkling blue eyes. But Dirk had stood by his wife and his children for a lifetime. Harry had left a long time ago.