Page 72 of The Souls of Lost Lake
Dear Emmaline...
The front door burst open. Noah hustled inside like a man being chased—’course, he more’n likely was. Ava sat on her hands, primly as she could, in the chair in the front room. She avoided looking at Noah’s desk. Her letter to Emmaline was long gone. Hanny had taken it with her when she’d left, after Ava slipped it between two other letters Noah had addressed and stamped. Hanny offered to go to the post office. Ava hoped the woman didn’t thumb through the envelopes and discard Ava’s letter to Emmaline.
Noah dropped a pile of books, including his Bible, on his desk. He raked his hand through his hair, and with it all disheveled, Ava couldn’t stop staring at him. Her stomach did funny things. Especially when she saw the cords on his forearms where he’d rolled up his sleeves.
“Listen to me.” He crossed the room and kneeled in front of her. Eye to eye, she was distracted by the sincerity in the brown fathomless depths. “Ava.”
She blinked, then met his eyes. His narrowed for a moment, and then he seemed to shake himself out of whatever thought had crossed his mind.
“The town’s going to be all riled up in a bit. They found Jipsy’s body.”
“How?” Ava scooted to the edge of the chair, leaning forward.
Noah’s smile was lopsided and confessionary. “I tried a similar tactic, only in the daylight. I took a walk.”
“A walk,” Ava repeated.
He nodded. “Yeah. A long one. One of prayer and supplication that led me to an out-of-the-way poplar grove and Jipsy’s body. No one is questioning me, especially since you’re supposedly not under my care anymore.”
“They wouldn’t. You’re the preacher.” Ava cocked an eyebrow. “But how’d you find the poplar grove?”
“It’s a lot easier to find in the morning.”
“Seems like that was a simpler solution all the way around,” Ava acknowledged.
Noah rocked back on his heels and stood. “Yes, well. Regardless, I reported it to Officer Larson, who took a team out to retrieve Jipsy.”
Noah seemed a bit more hopeful. “But from what I could tell, Jipsy wasn’t—it didn’t look like it was consistent with how Hubbard was killed. I’m hoping Larson will see reason and be able to communicate that more effectively to the rabble-rousers like Chuck Weber who are so convinced you’re somehow behind this mess.”
“They’ll see what they want to see. They always have.”
Noah rolled down his shirtsleeves. He buttoned them at the cuffs. “I’m going to put on a tie and clean myself up a bit. Then I will head back to the police station. I’ll be able to get a feel for how the dice will roll, and how it will affect you.”
“Be careful.” She whispered it, not as a backward, backwoods girl, but as a woman. She’d known the preacher for a short time really, but he was laying himself out on the line for her in a way no one ever had before. It only seemed fair someone worry about his welfare too.
Noah gave her a platonic tip of the head that didn’t match the rush of affection Ava had felt only moments before. “I will.”
And then he was off to his room upstairs. Ava could hear hisfootsteps. She could picture him tying his tie and shrugging into a jacket and makin’ himself look all preacher-like. But she could tell something else about Noah Pritchard in their short but tumultuous time together. He wasn’t a natural-born preacher, and those coals in his eyes? They darn sure were because he was a man. Very much a man.
29
Wren
The SAR teams had dwindled. It was the disgusting truth about tragedy, alive or dead, missing or taken. Eventually, life’s demands called even its most well-meaning people back, until all that remained were the specifically assigned lot.
Wren sought to rescue Meghan from the heavy atmosphere of the Rec Barn. Ben had reluctantly agreed. “Thanks for taking Meghan. Go shopping. Get coffee. It’s Tuesday—get tacos. But no more looking for Ava Coons—or seeing thatmanwho puts ideas in her head. You’ll both goloca, and it doesn’t help anyone.”
Wren looked over her taco at Meghan, who had taken one bite out of a nacho chip. Her taco remained cooling on her plate.
Meghan’s eyes were red-rimmed, her skin pale. She picked at a chip on her plate, breaking it into smaller pieces. “You heard what they’re saying now that it’s been a week?”
Wren nodded. She had. It was turning into a retrieval. Since they’d confirmed they were Trina Nesbitt’s remains, the writing was bold on the wall. The odds of finding Jasmine alive in the woods were slim. Now that the authorities were factoring in the possibility of abduction, the investigation and search took remarkably different turns.
“They’ve found no evidence that Jasmine was taken?” Wrenasked outright. She hated being so blunt. Hated the pain that stretched across Meghan’s face and hated how Meghan simply accepted it.
“Nothing strong enough to give them any direction.” Meghan snorted in disgust. “And they thought I was nuts. Itoldthem someone took my daughter!”
Actually, she’d told themAva Coonshad taken Jasmine, but Wren didn’t correct her.
