True Believer (15 page)

“Just the man I was looking for,” Mayor Gherkin said. “I happened to be driving by, and when I saw you, I was struck by the thought that we’re going to need a representative from law enforcement this evening.”

“What for?”

“The little get-together, of course. For Jeremy Marsh, our distinguished visitor. Tonight at the Lawson Plantation.”

Rodney blinked. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No, not at all. In fact, I’ve got Gary making him up a key to the city right now.”

“A key to the city,” Rodney repeated.

“Of course, don’t tell anyone about that. It’s supposed to be a surprise. But since this is becoming more official, I sure would appreciate your presence tonight. It would make the evening seem a bit more . . . ceremonious. I was hoping that you’d stand by my side as I presented the key to him.”

Rodney puffed his chest out just a bit, flattered. Still, there wasn’t a chance he’d even consider doing something like that. “I think that’s more my boss’s duty, don’t you?”

“Well, sure. But you and I both know he’s hunting in the mountains right now. And since you’re in charge while he’s gone, it’s one of those things that falls in your lap.”

“I don’t know, Tom. I’d have to call someone in to cover for me. It’s a shame, but I really don’t think I’m going to be able to make it.”

“That is a shame. But I understand. Duty is duty.”

Rodney breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks.”

“I’m sure Lexie would love to have seen you, though.”

“Lexie?”

“Well, of course. She runs the library, so that makes her one of the dignitaries that will attend. Why, I was just coming by to tell her about it. But I’m sure she’ll enjoy visiting with our guest, even if you’re not there.” The mayor straightened up. “But all right, like I said, I understand.”

“Wait!” Rodney said, his mind moving quickly, trying to recover. “You said it’s tonight, right?”

The mayor nodded.

“I don’t know what I was thinking, but I think Bruce is already scheduled, so I just might be able to work something out.”

The mayor smiled. “Glad to hear it,” he said. “Now, let me head inside so I can talk to Ms. Darnell. You weren’t planning to head inside and talk to her yourself, were you? I mean, I’d be happy to wait.”

“No,” Rodney said. “Just tell her I’ll see her later.”

“Will do, Deputy.”

After retrieving some additional information for Jeremy and making a quick stop in her office, Lexie found herself surrounded by twenty children, some nestled in their mothers’ laps. Lexie was sitting on the floor, reading her third book. The room was boisterous, as it always was. On a low table off to the side, cookies and punch had been set out; in the far corner, a few of the less engaged children were playing with some of the many toys she kept on the shelves. Still others were finger-painting on a makeshift table she’d designed. The room was decorated in bright colors— the shelves were like crayons, with no apparent theme other than vividness. Despite the protests of some of the senior volunteers and employees—who wanted children to sit quietly as they were being read to, as had always been done—Lexie wanted children to have fun in the library. She wanted them to be excited about coming, even if that required toys, games, and a room that was less than quiet. Over the years, she could remember dozens of kids who played for a year or more before discovering the joy of stories, but that was fine by her. As long as they kept coming in.

But today, as she was reading, she felt her mind wandering back to the lunch she’d shared with Jeremy. Though it couldn’t be described as a date, it almost had that feeling, which made it a little disconcerting. Thinking back on it, she realized that she’d revealed far more about herself than she’d intended, and she kept trying to remember how that had happened. It wasn’t as if he’d pried. Instead, it had just happened. But why on earth was she still dwelling on it?

She didn’t like to think of herself as neurotic, but this endless analysis wasn’t like her. And besides, she told herself, it hadn’t even been a date as much as a guided tour. But no matter how much she tried to stop it, Jeremy’s image kept popping up unexpectedly: the slightly crooked smile, his expression of amusement at things she said. She couldn’t help wondering what he had thought about her life here, not to mention what he’d thought about her. She’d even blushed when he said he’d found her charming. What was that all about? Maybe, she thought, it was because I spilled my guts about my past and left myself vulnerable.

She made a note not to do it again. And yet . . .

It hadn’t been so bad, she admitted. Just talking to someone new, someone who didn’t already know everyone and everything going on in town, was refreshing. She’d almost forgotten how special that could be. And he’d surprised her. Doris had been right, at least in part. He wasn’t what she thought he’d be. He was smarter than she’d first assumed, and even if he held his mind closed to the possibility of mystery, he made up for it by being good-humored about their differing beliefs and way of life. He poked fun at himself, too, which was also appealing.

As she continued to read to the children—thank goodness, it wasn’t a complicated book—her mind refused to stop whirling.

Okay, so she liked him. She admitted that. And if truth be told, she wanted to spend more time with him. But even that realization didn’t change the little voice in her head warning her not to get hurt. She had to tread carefully here, for—as much as they seemed to get along—Jeremy Marsh would indeed hurt her if she allowed it to happen.

Jeremy was hunched over a series of street maps of Boone Creek, dating back to the 1850s. The older they were, the more written detail they seemed to have, and as he watched how the town had changed decade by decade, he jotted additional notes. From a sleepy village nestled along a dozen roads, the town had continued to expand outward.

The cemetery, as he already knew, sat between the river and Riker’s Hill; more important, he realized that a line drawn between Riker’s Hill and the paper mill would pass directly through the cemetery. The total distance was a little more than three miles, and he knew that it was possible for light to be refracted that far, even on foggy nights. He wondered if the factory had a third shift, which would necessitate keeping the place brightly lit, even at night. With the right layering of the fog and enough brightness, everything could be explained in one fell swoop.

Upon reflection, he realized he should have noticed the straight-line relationship between the paper mill and Riker’s Hill when he was up there. Instead, he’d been caught up in enjoying the view, looking over the town, and spending time with Lexie.

He was still trying to figure out the sudden change in her behavior. Yesterday she wanted nothing to do with him, and today . . . well, today was a new day, wasn’t it? And damned if he couldn’t stop thinking about her, and not just in the usual, clothes-heapedat-the-foot-of-the-bed sort of way. He couldn’t remember the last time that had happened. Maria, probably, but that was a long time ago. A lifetime ago, when he was someone else entirely. But today the conversation had been so natural, so comfortable, that despite the fact he should finish studying the maps, all he really wanted to do was get to know her even better.

Strange, he thought, and before he realized what was happening, he stood from his desk and began making his way to the stairs. He knew she was reading to the children, and he had no intention of disturbing her, but he suddenly wanted to see her.

He walked down the steps, rounded the corner, and moved to one of the glass walls. It took only a moment for him to spot Lexie sitting on the floor, surrounded by children.

She read in an animated way, and he smiled at her expressions: the wide eyes, the “O” she made with her mouth, the way she leaned forward to emphasize something that was happening in the story. The mothers sat with smiles on their faces. A couple of the kids were abolutely still; the others looked as if they’d taken wiggle pills.

“She’s really something, isn’t she?”

Jeremy turned in surprise. “Mayor Gherkin. What are you doing here?”

“Why, I came to see you, of course. And Miss Lexie, too. About the dinner tonight. We’ve got everything just about set up. I think you’ll be quite impressed.”

“I’m sure I will,” Jeremy said.

“But like I was saying, she’s really something, isn’t she?”

Jeremy said nothing, and the mayor winked before going on. “I saw the way you were looking at her. A man’s eyes give him away. The eyes always tell the truth.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

The mayor grinned. “Well, I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“Of course not,” he said.

Jeremy shook his head. “Look, Mr. Mayor . . . Tom—”

“Oh, never mind. I was just teasing. But let me tell you a bit about our little get-together this evening.”

Mayor Gherkin told Jeremy the location, then offered directions that, somewhat unsurprisingly, were heavy on local landmarks. No doubt Tully taught him everything he knew, Jeremy thought.

“Do you think you’ll be able to find it?” the mayor asked when he was finished.

“I’ve got a map,” Jeremy said.

“That might help, but keep in mind that those back roads can get kind of dark. It’s easy to get lost if you’re not careful. You might consider coming with someone who knows where it is.”

When Jeremy looked at him curiously, Gherkin glanced knowingly through the window.

“You think I should ask Lexie?” Jeremy asked.

The mayor’s eyes twinkled. “That’s up to you. If you think she’d agree. A lot of men consider her the prize of the county.”

“She’d say yes,” Jeremy said, feeling more hopeful than certain.

The mayor looked doubtful. “I think you may be overestimating your own abilities. But if you’re so sure, then I suppose my business is through here. You see, I came to invite her myself, but since you’re going to take care of it, I’ll just see you tonight.”

The mayor turned to leave, and a few minutes later, Jeremy watched Lexie finish up. She closed the book, and as the parents rose, he felt a jolt of nervous adrenaline. The sensation amazed him. When was the last time that had happened?

A few mothers called to those kids who hadn’t been listening, and a moment later, Lexie was following the group out of the children’s room. When she saw Jeremy, she headed over.

“I take it you’re ready to start looking through the diaries,” she surmised.

“If you have time to get them,” he said. “I still have a way to go with the maps. But actually, there’s something else, too.”

“Oh?” She tilted her head slightly.

As he spoke, he noticed the butterflies in his stomach. Weird.

“The mayor came by to tell me about the dinner tonight at the Lawson Plantation, and he’s not sure if I can find the place on my own, so he suggested that I bring someone who knows where it is. And, well, since you’re pretty much the only one I know in town, I was wondering if you’d be willing to accompany me.”

For a long moment, Lexie said nothing.

“Figures,” she finally said.

Her response caught Jeremy off-guard.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, it’s not you. It’s the mayor and the way he does things. He knows I try to avoid events like this whenever possible, unless it has to do with the library. He figured that I’d say no if he asked, so he finagled a way to get you to ask me instead. And here you are. And here I am.”

Jeremy blinked at the thought, trying to remember the exact exchange, but only coming up with bits and pieces. Who had suggested he go with Lexie? He or the mayor?

“Why do I suddenly feel like I’m in the middle of a soap opera?”

“Because you are. It’s called living in a small southern town.”

Jeremy paused, looking uncertain. “You really think the mayor had all this planned?”

“I know he had it planned. He might come across like he’s no smarter than a sack of grass, but he has a funny knack of getting people to do exactly what he wants and making them think it was their idea all along. Why on earth do you think you’re still staying at Greenleaf?”

Jeremy pushed his hands into his pockets, considering it. “Well, just so you know, you don’t have to come. I’m sure I can find the place on my own.”

She put her hands on her hips and looked at him. “Are you backing out on me?”

Jeremy froze, unsure how to respond. “Well, I just thought that since the mayor . . .”

“Do you want me to come with you or not?” she asked.

“I do, but if you’re not—”

“Then ask me again.”

“Excuse me?”

“Ask me to come with you tonight. For yourself this time, and don’t use the excuse about needing directions. Say something like, ‘I’d really like to bring you to the dinner tonight. Can I pick you up later?’”