The Ruth Valley Missing (19 page)

I squirmed a bit. “I thought you’d
worry if you knew I was carrying a knife with me.”

That wasn’t a total lie, I thought.

“I worry about you anyway. And I
don’t think you need to carry a knife around with you, but if it makes you feel
better, you can hang on to it.”

“Thanks,” I said, laying my hand on
the knife.

“You still feeling unsafe?”

“Sometimes. I mean, we still don’t know
who did this to me,” I replied, motioning to scars under my shirt.

“I’ve been giving that some thought.
You know, maybe Andy got caught up in something with some out-of-towners. Maybe
they thought you knew something, since you stitched him up and visited with
him.”

“You think?”

He nodded. “It’s the only thing that
makes any sense. You mentioned how cagey he was when you visited. Maybe he knew
he was being watched. Anyhow, everyone else in town is accounted for that
night.”

“You’ve been investigating?”

“Of course. Since it happened.”

I sat quietly, tapping my finger on
the table. “So, my freaking out about Sister Marjorie?”

“Like I said, all accounted for.
Father Mike too, sadly.”

“Sadly?”

Jack grinned. “I admit, I wouldn’t
have minded finding a reason to throw a fist his way. He gets under my skin.
He’s not very…”

“Very what?”

“Priestlike. Especially around you.”

I smiled. I agreed, but it was cute
to know Jack noticed and was so protective. “Are you jealous of a priest,
Jack?”

“Of course not.” He leaned back in
his chair, folding his arms and puffing out his chest. “Clearly, I’ve nothing
to worry about.”

“Clearly,” I said, getting up from
the table and leaning in for a kiss. Jack smiled as I rumpled his hair before
taking my empty cup to the sink.

“Are you sure you don’t want to run
into town with me today?” Jack asked.

“You know I’d love that. But I have
a few things I wanted to get done. And my place is a mess. I don’t need the
landlord thinking I’m a pig, should he ever stop by.”

“You are pretty messy.”

I feigned offense, shutting off the
kitchen sink and turning towards Jack, who followed me to the kitchen. “I guess
you can wash your own dishes, then.”

Jack hooked his finger around a belt
loop on my jeans, pulling me close, his lips barely an inch from mine. “James?”

“Yeah?”

“You have coffee breath.”

I buried my face in his chest,
laughing. He slid his arms around me, setting his chin on top of my head. I
leaned back and looked up at his face, trying unsuccessfully to look upset. He smiled
and kissed the tip of my nose. “Dinner tonight?”

I nodded, smiling.

Jack broke away from the hug,
grabbing his coat before opening the door. “Stay out of trouble, James.”

“I make no guarantees,” I called as
the door shut.

The usual clatter of dishes and
silverware and the hum of conversation between patrons was nearly absent when I
entered the diner.

“Hiya, James. To go or are you
staying today?”

“I’ll be staying, Emma. Good thing,
too. Have you seen the sky out there?”

Emma nodded. “People have been
rushin’ to finish their food so they can get out before the storm sets in. You
sure you don’t want to take your food to go?”

I scanned the restaurant, spotting
Father Mike in the corner booth. “Thanks, but I actually promised Father Mike
I’d have lunch with him.”

Emma eyes widened a bit. “Well, that
would explain why he’s ordered nothin’ but tea since he got here. He shoulda
just told me he was waitin’ on you. Head on back and I’ll be with you in a
sec.”

“Father,” I said, as I slid into the
curved corner booth.

“James.”

His mouth was pulled in a straight
line, not a hint of the smirk he often had.

“You didn’t have to wait to order.”

“I don’t mind.” He took a long slow
sip of tea, looking out the window. “Looks like we have a nasty storm coming
in.”

Emma rushed up to the table. “Do
ya’ll know what you want to eat?”

I nodded. “Can I get the grilled
cheese, tomato soup, and onion rings? This weather makes me hungry.”

“And for you, Father?”

“A bowl of your chicken soup.”

“Really? That’s all?”

Father Mike looked up at Emma, his
face serious and his tone terse. “Yes, that’s it.”

Emma took the menu from the table
and nodded, her lips in a slight pout as she walked away.

“Someone is cranky today. You really
shouldn’t take it out on that poor girl.”

I watched Father Mike’s jaw clench
and unclench as he sat across from me.

“What are we doing here, exactly,
Jameson?”

I shrugged, eyes wide, “What do you
mean? I wanted to hear what you thought of the photos I gave you.”

Mike forced a chuckle and lowered
his voice. “Don’t give me that act.”

He looked around the diner and slid
further into the booth, jerking his head to the side, an invitation for me to
do the same. I scooted further in, so we were sitting side by side rather than
across from each other.

“What’s the deal with the photos?
Why did you give them to me?”

“They’re pictures of your church. I
don’t see what you’re getting so bent out of shape about.”

Father Mike grabbed my wrist under the
table, pinning it against the seat. “You know what pictures I mean.”

I stared at him, calm, wanting him
to know that he couldn’t intimidate me, even if my insides were dancing. He
stared back, waiting for an answer.

“Umm, here’s your food.”

Emma was standing in front of us,
slowly placing our food on the table, frowning.

Mike’s hand slowly loosened,
remaining hidden under the table, resting on top of my wrist.

I gave Emma what I hoped would be a
reassuring smile. “Thanks, Emma. I’m starving.”

“Can I get you anything else?”

I looked at Father Mike, then up at
Emma. “I think we’re good for a while here. We’ll yell if we need you.”

Emma pursed her lips, then relaxed
them into a polite smile, nodding before she walked away.

I slid my captive hand out from under
Mike’s hand and grabbed an onion ring. “You should really watch that temper,
Father. It’s very unbecoming. Especially for a man of the cloth.”

“Are you enjoying this?”

I looked up, moving my head from one
side to the other. “Just a little bit.”

He sat back in his chair, shaking
his head. “How much of this do I have to deal with before you tell me what
those pictures are really about?”

“Actually, I’m more interested in
hearing what you have to tell me about the pictures.”

Father Mike rested his hand over his
forehead, pressing his temples between his thumb and forefinger, before sliding
his hand down over his mouth and staring.

I popped another onion ring in my
mouth, then grabbed one and held it in front of him. “Want one? They’re really
good today.”

He let out an exasperated snort, but
took it. I started on my sandwich while he stared at the fried onion before
popping it in his mouth, chewing slowly. The clouds outside continued to
darken, driving the few locals left from the diner, until we were the sole
patrons inside. Finally, he broke the silence with a steady, quiet voice.

“I don’t know anything about these
pictures, Jameson. Honestly. I swear. Look at the date stamps. These were taken
long before I came here.” I looked him in the eye, trying to gauge if he was
telling the truth. For once, he looked sincere.

I pushed my plate away. “What do you
think the pictures are then?”

“That’s what I was hoping you’d tell
me. Where did they come from?”

I hesitated, then decided to take a
risk.

“An old camera I bought at the
rummage sale. There was an unfinished roll in it.”

“And you think the pictures were
taken somewhere around here?”

“I know they were. You can see the
designs from the church tapestries in some of them. The ones with the…” I
paused looking around at the empty diner and whispered, “bones, one of them has
a stone bench in the corner that looks like the one in the garden. And the
concrete floor with the stain, it looks exactly like the floor in the convent.”

“Does anyone else know about the
photos?”

There was something in Father Mike’s
eyes I hadn’t expected. Not anger or rage. Fear.

“Not anyone in town.” I immediately
regretted my answer and quickly added, “But I sent copies to a safe place.”

I wished that were true, feeling the
confidence I walked in with starting to wear off. Lightning flashed outside,
thunder rumbling soon after, the roar of rain following right behind.

“You can’t tell anyone in this town
about those photos. No one. Not Emma, not Jack. Absolutely no one.”

The lightning flashed again, this
time the thunder shaking the diner, causing the lights inside to flicker and
die.

Father Mike slid closer, grabbing my
arm. The storm and lack of power left us in the darkest shadows of the diner,
discretion no longer a concern.

“I’m serious. You need to forget
about the pictures. And you need to leave town. You don’t know what you’re
getting into here.”

“Let go of me, Father.”

“Promise me that you’ll do what I
say. I need to know that you’ll walk away from this.”

I pulled my arm away, hitting my
elbow against the table. “I have to use the restroom,” I mumbled, sliding out
of the booth as quickly as possible.

There wasn’t much light to maneuver
towards the back of the diner, but it was enough. When I was sure I was far
enough in the shadows, I made a break for the rear exit.

Lightning flashed around me, as I
ran for the house, praying that a moving target would be harder to strike.

“Is this normal?”

Jack and I sat on the front porch
swing, looking at the bright pink and purple sky as the sun disappeared for the
day. If it wasn’t for the soggy ground, you wouldn’t know it was storming
violently a few hours earlier.

“Not unusual. We get crazy storms in
the afternoon, then everything calms by the evening. It’s pleasant, if you
don’t have to be anywhere.” He threw his arm over the back of the swing and
scooted closer, pressing his cheek against my forehead. “It’s too bad I wasn’t
around this afternoon to enjoy it with you.”

I smiled back, leaning against his
chest while I clasped both hands around a cup of tea. “Well, this is nice,
too.”

I closed my eyes, enjoying a moment
of comfort and normalcy.

“Any grand plans for the week?”

I shrugged, keeping my eyes closed,
careful not to tip my tea. “Nothing too exciting. I think I’m going to go see
Joan. I feel awful that I haven’t really been very helpful at the bookstore,
being out of commission for so long.”

“Oh, you didn’t hear?”

“Didn’t hear what?”

“Joan and the boys moved.”

I opened my eyes and sat up. “What?”

“Packed up and left. Didn’t tell
anyone she was going. I’m surprised you hadn’t heard.”

I shook my head, frowning.

“I’m sure she’s fine, James.
Probably got tired of all the gossips sticking their noses in her business.”

“Probably,” I nodded, unconvinced.

“You ok?”

I nodded again, leaning against
Jack’s chest. “Why?”

“You’re quieter than usual.”

“I’m just a little tired.”

“I had to drop something by the
diner on the way home.” I tensed up, but didn’t change position. “Heard you had
lunch with Father Mike? How was that?”

“Fine.”

“Emma said he seemed out of sorts.”

“Yeah, I think he might be coming
down with something.”

“Is that all? She said you ran out
early.”

“Something I ate didn’t sit well
with me.”

“What were you two having lunch
together for anyway? I thought you didn’t like the Father.”

I shut my eyes and sighed, “He’s not
my favorite person, but I figured if I’m going to stay in this town, I better
start making nice.”

“Well, while I don’t love the idea
of you taking too many meals with him, I do like the sound of you stickin’
around.” I shifted in my seat so I could look up at Jack’s face. He leaned in
close. “In case I haven’t been too clear, I like you. More than a little.”

“Me too. I mean, I like you, not I
like me. Not that I don’t like me—“