Page 38 of Slow Burn
What she’d found online had been national reports only, vague sensationalist overviews of a shocking tragedy in a small southern town. Cedar Hollow was slow to digitize their archives, so her best bet was to look through hard copies.
But now that Ned was on her radar, she had a specific track to take in her investigating. If he was responsible for her house fire, was he responsible for the others? The only way to find out was to look for any connections to him.
And since talking to Eric Ward about where her mama had been found, that itch to find confirmation somewhere else weighed on her mind. Maybe she would strike gold and find something that mentioned why Bonnie was on the floor that night.
She frowned. And maybe she could time travel and stop the whole thing from happening at all.
One could hope for miracles. Didn’t mean you’d get them.
The newspaper office of the Hollow Gazette was a small brick building tucked between an antique shop and the bank. If she hadn’t been looking for it, she might’ve missed it altogether.
The woman inside eyed her with a knowing glint when she walked in. Old enough to know who Jocelyn was and apparently connected enough to hold a ready opinion of her, the woman offered no greeting. The curse of a small town.
“Hi, there,” Jocelyn said, working up her smile anyway. “I was wondering if I might have a look around your archives?”
The woman’s flat expression didn’t waver, though she gave Jocelyn a once over. “Archives older than ten years got moved to the library.”
At least she didn’t have to go through the explanation of what she was looking for. Could’ve done without the attitude, but she would take what she could get. “Thank you.”
She pushed out into the bright sunlight, briefly wished small towns didn’t work the way they did, and set her mind on walking the two blocks to the library. It was a squat brick building with little to recommend it—ugly, rundown, and smelling faintly like wet laundry left out too long.
A younger woman sat behind the desk, looking very little like the stereotypical librarian. She had bright blue eyes set in a luminous and youthful face free of glasses or a lined scowl.
“Hey, there,” she said with a smile.
Jocelyn tried not to be wary, but a returning smile was hard to drag up after her most recent interaction. “Hello.”
“You look like you need some direction.”
Jocelyn waited, thinking the recognition would settle soon, and the woman would snub her like the rest of them did.
When the pleasant expression on her face didn’t change, Jocelyn stumbled through her request. “I’m looking for the old newspaper archives.”
Both brows rose, setting wrinkles into the smooth forehead. “Don’t hear that every day. Well, come on back with me. I’ll show you where they are.”
She breezed out from behind the desk, a flowing gauzy skirt swirling around her. “I’m Bethany, by the way.”
“Jocelyn,” she said carefully.
Bethany waved her off. “Oh, I know.”
That was a surprise. “You do?”
“Sure. We were in school together, though you might not remember. I was a year behind.”
Her light tone made Jocelyn’s walls shoot up. Surely this was a ploy? “I’m sorry. I don’t remember.”
Bethany turned to smile at her. “It’s alright. It was a long time ago, and you’ve got plenty of reasons to want to forget.”
She slowed to a stop in the back corner of the building where a wide doorway opened into a darkened room. The jewel eyes settled on Jocelyn again. “I suppose you’re not wanting to forget anymore, though. That why you need the archives?”
She didn’t want to believe Bethany’s friendliness had more to do with pumping Jocelyn for information than genuine kindness. She hadn’t made it a secret why she was back, but it wasn’t like she was advertising, either. It was just hard not to think the worst of people.
“Something like that,” she finally said.
Bethany’s mouth tipped down a little. “I’m real sorry about what happened to your mama. Grammy always said she was the sweetest.”
Another surprise there.
