Page 22 of Little Buried Secrets

“How did you sleep?” he asked.

“Not bad,” I said.

“Any more dreams?”

“Not about Margot.”

He nodded and said, “Come, there’s something you need to see.”

I pushed the comforter to the side and followed him over to the balcony door. He opened it, and I stared out into the foggiest, rain-filled morning I’d seen in a long time.

“In the dream you had last night, you said it was foggy and you were wet,” he said.

“I did. How do you feel about going for a drive?”

He grinned. “I’m glad you asked.”

I changed into a pair of denim overall dungarees, which always gave me Rosie the Riveter vibes when I wore them, and black, knee-length, waterproof boots fit for hiking the trails during winter. I searched the hall closet for my rain jacket and met Giovanni at the door.

“Where shall we go first?” he asked.

I considered places similar in terrain to the one in the dream I’d had, but there were far too many.

“Let’s start in an area no one has searched yet,” I suggested.

Ever since Margot was reported missing, Foley had set up search parties using a grid system. It began in town and worked its way out. His system was perfect, but so far, they’d come up empty-handed.

We headed out of town, until we came to the first trail that hadn’t been searched yet.

We parked.

We searched.

We found nothing.

We drove to another trail.

We parked.

We searched again.

Still nothing.

The fog continued to roll in. The rain was falling in sheets now, making the chances of finding Margot slim, my hopeful mood burning out by the second.

Giovanni remained upbeat, saying, “Even if we don’t find anything, I’m glad you asked me along this morning.”

I grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you for being, you know … you.”

“Thank you for being you,” he repeated.

As we walked back to the car, my spirits lifted, and my motivation to keep looking returned. We agreed to make one last stop. If we found nothing, we’d quit for now, head back to town, and have brunch at the Boathouse Diner. The diner had an old brick fireplace in the back room, the perfect spot to cozy up and warm my frozen digits.

The next trail we stopped at did a full loop, meaning it could be hiked at the start of the trail from either side. I went left, and Giovanni went right.

About a quarter of the way around, a snapping sound echoed in the distance, and I stopped, cupping a hand over my eyes as I took in my surroundings.

“Giovanni?” I called.

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