Authors: Elizabeth Lynn Casey
“Miss Sinclair?”
Disengaging herself from the mental pity-party that was in full swing inside her head, Tori tightened her grip on the tiny hand clasped inside her own. “What is it, Lulu?”
“Heritage Day is my favorite day of the year . . . ’cept maybe Christmas.” The little girl’s long dark hair swayed in the evening breeze as they followed Margaret Louise and Lulu’s siblings across the Sweet Briar town square. “Mee-Maw always gives us each five whole dollars to spend on whatever we want.”
“Do you know what you’ll buy before you come?” Tori inhaled deeply, savored the tangy smell of barbecue sauce that wafted across the grounds. “Because if my grandma gave me five whole dollars, I think I’d get some barbecue chicken.”
Lulu giggled. “They don’t have chicken, silly. Just pork.”
“No chicken?”
“No. But it’s still good.” The little girl stopped and pointed to the west side of the square, the night sky dotted with bright colored lights that turned and spun and flickered on and off. “That-that’s what I like to do. More ’n anything. ’Cept read.”
The midway.
Tori squatted beside Lulu, releasing her hand and wrapping it around the child’s shoulders instead. “You’re a ride girl, huh?”
“Uh-huh. I like the merry-go-round best of all.” Lulu hopped from foot to foot as she grew more and more animated. “But sometimes . . . sometimes they have a boat ride. My brother, Tommy, says it’s for babies because it just goes round and round in a circle but”—the child looked left to right before meeting Tori’s gaze with an undeniable sparkle—“I like it anyway. ’Cause the boats look like canoes and I feel like . . . I feel like—”
And then she stopped, kicked at the ground with her pink and purple sneaker, and blew a stray strand of hair from in front of her eyes.
“I bet I know. Because I’d feel exactly the same way.”
Lulu looked at her with hopeful eyes. “You do?”
Tori nodded. “Riding in a canoe makes you feel like Pocahontas, doesn’t it?”
A smile that rivaled the lights of the midway sprang across Lulu’s face. “You
do
understand. You do!”
“You bet I do—”
“That woman should be locked up, not roaming around Heritage Day freely.”
“Isn’t that one of Margaret Louise’s grandchildren? I can’t imagine letting a woman like that within a mile of one of my babies.”
The conversation disappeared into thin air as quickly as it had appeared, but the words remained, the scope of their meaning bringing an ache to her heart. What
was
she doing here? How could she not have foreseen this happening when Margaret Louise and all six children appeared at her door just before dinner?
Not that it would have mattered. Margaret Louise was not a woman who took no for an answer.
Lulu reached out, pushed an errant strand of hair behind Tori’s ear. “I like being with you, Miss Sinclair. So does Mee-Maw.”
Blinking against the burning sensation in her eyes, Tori squeezed the child closer. “I like being with you and your Mee-Maw, too.”
“There you two are. We walked near a country mile before Jake Junior noticed you two had done and gone.” Margaret Louise pulled a paper fan from one of her grandchildren’s hands and waved it near her cheeks. “I’m fixin’ to pass out if I don’t get me some ice-cold tea.”
Tori let Lulu go and stood. “Margaret Louise, can I speak to you for a moment?”
“You’re speaking to me now, aren’t you?”
She looked down at Lulu and smiled, then motioned the child’s grandmother to the side. “I was hoping to have a word with you . . .
alone
.”
“Well, why didn’t you say so?” Margaret Louise gripped Jake Junior’s shoulder and held it firmly. “You keep track of everyone. I’ll be but a minute.”
The women sidestepped passersby as they found a spot removed enough from the children’s range of hearing. “Is everythin’ okay, Victoria?”
“No, Margaret Louise, it’s not.” Tori gestured to the faces that walked by, the majority of which stopped to stare at her. “I don’t belong here. These people don’t want me in their town, let alone at their fair. And I don’t want people second-guessing your decision to have me around the children.”
She knew her voice was growing shrill despite her efforts to keep from being overheard. But it was hard to keep emotion from her words when her heart was breaking in two.
Margaret Louise raised a finger in Tori’s direction as her eyes darted momentarily in the direction of her grandchildren. “Now you listen up. The people in this town, bless their hearts, have been hurtin’ for something to talk about for a long time. I mean, you can only get so much mileage out of Jeb Taylor’s drinkin’ or Harriet Johnson’s clumsiness. A murder is somethin’ this town ain’t never seen.”
“I get that but”—she looked around at the faces once again, felt the hatred in the eyes that glanced back—“I’m not used to being a pariah.”
“And you won’t be for long. I’m bound and determined to figure out who killed Tiffany Ann, but you have to be willing to dirty-up a little in the meantime.” Margaret Louise clamped her mouth shut and shook her head firmly over Tori’s shoulder. “That Jake Junior he’s gonna be the death of me, you wait and see. Anyway, as for people thinking I’m putting my grandbabies in danger by having you around—let ’em talk. I know a gem when I see it. And so does Lulu.”
Lulu.
Tori looked over her shoulder and smiled at the little girl who’d stolen her heart. No matter how low things got, Lulu had a way of making her feel okay. Like maybe there was hope.
“Can I get some tea now?” Margaret Louise pulled the fan from her face long enough to offer a brief burst of air in Tori’s direction.
She laughed. “Get yourself some tea. But . . . can I . . .”
“Yes.” Margaret Louise took three steps forward and then stopped. “You can take Lulu on her rides.”
She felt her mouth drop open. “How did you know?”
“I know my Lulu.” Margaret Louise marched across the flattened path of grass that separated them from her grandchildren, barely missing a step as she herded five of them in the direction of the food and drink booths. “We’ll meet you at the merry-go-round in thirty minutes.”
Tori stopped beside Lulu and reached for the child’s hand once again. “You hear that, Lulu? We’ve got thirty minutes. Let’s go see if the canoes are here again this year.”
The only answer she received was a tug on her arm and the bobbing of a head as Lulu skipped along, the bright lights of the rides calling to them like a beacon in a storm.
“Have you ever seen such bright lights, Miss Sinclair?”
“Chicago is all lit up at night. But those are just white lights, they aren’t colorful like these ones.”
“White . . . like porch lights?”
Tori laughed. “Kinda. Though I can’t really say since my porch light keeps disappearing.”
The little girl stopped skipping long enough to stare, wide-eyed, at her companion. “Disappearing?”
“That or someone is playing a trick to try and drive me crazy.” She swung her hand with Lulu’s, her eyes scanning the midway crowd—a group of people who seemed far more intent on having fun than on the gossip surrounding the librarian in their midst.
“Maybe it’s a
mystery
. Like the pyramids.” Lulu squealed as they rounded the corner between the merry-go-round and the bumper cars. “There they are! They have it! They have it!”
Sure enough, a circle of six canoes anchored to metal rods floated around a pool that had been set up near the far corner of the midway. Each canoe was painted a different color, the burnt red claiming Lulu’s attention. “That’s the one I want to ride. It looks just like Pocahontas’s canoe, doesn’t it?”
“It sure does, Lulu.” The strong voice cut through their conversation and made them both turn.
Milo Wentworth.
Tall and handsome in a faded pair of jeans, scuff-toed boots, and a white button-down shirt, Lulu’s teacher dipped his head. “Good evening, ladies.”
“Hi, Mr. Wentworth.” Lulu stopped skipping and stood—perfectly still—at Tori’s side.
“It’s nice to see you, Milo.”
“Ditto.” The man gestured toward the boat ride. “I was hoping they’d let me ride, but the sign says I’m too big.”
Lulu giggled and hid her face behind Tori’s leg.
“I thought about complaining but figured I shouldn’t.” He winked at Tori then peeked around her leg at his shy student. “I’d sure like to watch you ride it though.”
Tori looked over her shoulder at the little girl. “I would, too, Lulu. What do you say?”
Dropping her hand from Tori’s grip, Lulu reached inside her pocket, her eyes large and serious as she extracted five crisp dollar bills and looked at the sign nailed to a post beside the ride.
50 Cents.
“How many times could you ride the canoes if you wanted to spend all your money right now?” Milo Wentworth asked, his gaze trained on Lulu’s.
As one hand grasped the money, Lulu’s other began counting, finger by finger, bent knuckle by bent knuckle. “Ten whole times!” she shouted.
“Very good.” Milo nodded his pleasure at Tori. “My star math pupil.”
“I see that. That was very good, Lulu.” She bent down beside the child. “Is that really how you want to spend all your money?”
Lulu nibbled her lower lip inward, glanced back and forth between the money in her hand and the canoes making their way around the pool’s center platform. “No. Maybe just a dollar. Or—two.”
“Ready, Lulu?”
The child’s face was all the answer Tori needed as she guided her toward the nonexistent line. As the boats came to a stop and children disembarked, Lulu began to jump in place. “I can get the red one! I can get the red one!”
“Then off you go, Pocahontas. Give my regards to John Smith.” Milo’s antics brought a smile to Lulu’s face as she skipped in the direction of her preferred canoe.
“She is just precious, isn’t she?” Tori whispered.
“She is most definitely that.” Milo leaned against the railing that encircled the pool and waved at his student as the canoes slowly began to move. “And you’re a natural with her, you really are.”
Tori shrugged. “She makes it easy. Though, I have to confess, whenever I’ve dreamed of having a child of my own—the one I picture is almost a carbon copy of Lulu.”
She waved at the child as she went by, grinned at the realization that Lulu Davis was a million miles away, paddling through the river, careful to avoid any dangers that might be lurking. She envied her that—the ability to escape the real world and disappear into a different one.
What she wouldn’t give to be able to do that right now. . . .
“You’d like to have children one day?”
Realizing the man beside her was talking, she willed her mind back to the here and now. “Of course. Doesn’t everyone?”
“No. My late wife didn’t. Though I didn’t know that when we were first married.”
Unsure of how to respond to this unexpected piece of private information, she simply waited, leaving the conversation in his hands.
“It wasn’t something she knew when we married. But rather something she discovered about herself afterward. I tried to tell myself it was okay, that I was around children all day long. But . . . since her death”—he lifted his hand in a wave once again, dropping it back down to the railing as he, too, seemed to realize Lulu was no longer in Sweet Briar—“I’ve come to realize having children is something I want.”
“I’m sorry about your wife.” It was all she could think to say.
“Thank you. But it was a long time ago. Sure, the hurt still remains. But I’ve come to accept it and to look forward to the rest of my life.”
Without thinking, Tori reached her hand to the side and gently squeezed his arm. “I’m glad. Everyone needs to live life to its fullest. And I can’t imagine you
not
being a dad one day. I’ve seen you with your students. I suspect you’d be lost without them.”
“I would be.” He pushed off the railing as Lulu’s boat came to a stop, reclaiming his spot as the little girl handed the ride operator two more quarters. “How about you? Are you, um, I mean, er, are you see—”
“Seeing someone?” She blushed as the words left her mouth, prayed they were the ones he was struggling to say.
He nodded, his cheeks sporting a slightly reddish hue.
“No.” She flashed a thumbs-up at Lulu as the ride began again, the familiar lump making its way into her throat at the mere thought of Jeff. “I’m not seeing anyone. I want to focus on my job, be the best librarian I can be. Though now . . . with everything that’s going on . . . I’m not sure if I’m going to lose my shot.”
“You’re not going to lose anything. The police will figure out what happened.”
Tori stared, unseeingly, at the water as it rippled along the sides of each canoe. “That’s going to be hard to do when they’re only looking in one direction.”
“One direction?” Milo pushed off the railing and turned to the side, leaned his hip along the wooden two-by-four.
“Yeah.
Mine
.”
Before he had a chance to comment, Lulu was by their side, her tales of Indian chiefs and smoke rings filling the night air. “And I pretended I had a papoose on my back while I paddled.”
Tori forced a smile to her lips as she rubbed the youngster’s back. “I’m so glad you had fun, sweetie.” She looked around at the other rides, pointed at a few. “Is there anything else you’d like to ride?”
The child shook her head.
“Hungry?” Milo asked.
Again, Lulu shook her head.
“You still have four whole dollars,” Tori reminded.
“I know.” She looked up at Tori then shifted her focus to her teacher. “Mr. Wentworth, would you walk over there with me?” Lulu pointed toward a souvenir stand on the other side of the canoe ride.
“I’m game, are you game, Miss Sinclair?”
“You’re not here with anyone?” Tori asked.
He shook his head.
Lulu tugged on her teacher’s arm. “I don’t want Miss Sinclair to come with us.”
Tori felt her heart drop.
The child rushed to explain. “It’s a surprise.”
A smile crept into Milo Wentworth’s eyes. “I like surprises.”
Solemnly, Lulu looked up at Tori. “We’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere. Okay?”