“But he thought he was more than human. The world is full of nutcases.” She looked away from Brisbin as if she couldn’t bear the sight of him anymore. “Anyway, it was just an idea.”
“Who knows? Maybe someone out there is crazy.” Daniel broke off and grimaced. “Of course whoever killed that woman is crazy. But maybe he’s crazy like a fox. You know, trying to get away with murder—maybe get rid of his wife or girlfriend by making it look like some kind of weird ritual, so he wouldn’t be suspected.”
“That’s a stretch,” Rowenna told him.
“I just don’t think this was someone trying to get away with killing his wife or his girlfriend.”
“Why not?”
“Mary Johnstone. She’s still missing.”
“Okay, but maybe—just maybe—she’s missing for another reason.”
“You’re suggesting that she has disappeared on purpose, trying to get even with her husband for cheating on her?” she asked.
He shrugged. “It’s not unheard of.”
Rowenna shook her head. “Mary’s the wife of a cop—she knows she’d face charges.”
“For what? She’s an adult. She can disappear if she wants to.”
“I’m pretty sure they could find something to charge her with—make her repay the cost of the investigation or something—but that’s not the point. Her purse and her phone were found in the graveyard. All her credit cards, her ATM card and her money,” Rowenna said. “I never met her, but from what I understand, she loved her husband and she had a fabulous career as a dancer. Why would she run away?”
“You’re probably right. I just hope they find her before…Well, I just hope they find her safe and sound.”
“I do, too.”
Dan grinned suddenly. “So what’s going on with you and this new guy I’m hearing about?”
She blushed. She hadn’t been expecting the question, especially in the middle of a far more serious conversation.
“Um, well, I worked with him in New Orleans. He’s a private investigator.”
“Were you on a case with him?” Daniel asked, his eyes brightening.
“No, no. I just went on a radio talk show with him. We did one of those point-counterpoint things. He was there to raise funds for a children’s home, a place for orphans and abused kids, so the show was a way to draw attention to the cause. People love to listen to debates, especially when they get a little heated.”
Daniel laughed. “So you argued with the guy by day and got cozy by night?”
“Something like that,” she said, blushing again.
“And Joe is okay with this?” he asked.
“Joe has been after me to have a life again for a long time,” she told him.
“Still, it has to hurt him some, don’t you think?”
“I think that Joe is my friend, and that I’m not going to avoid him. And, I’ll admit, I was actually more worried about the fact that he thinks private investigators are a pain in the ass more often than they’re useful. But he and Jeremy seem to be doing all right together.”
“Well, good. I’m happy for you. It’s nice to know things are working out for you.”
“We’re not engaged or anything. We’re seeing each other, that’s all. I don’t know where we’ll go from here.”
“Do any of us really know where we’re going?” he asked with a philosophical shrug.
She laughed. “I do, at least right now. To the library. Want to join me?”
“Absolutely. Come on through.”
They passed through several more exhibit rooms dedicated to the Revolutionary War era, the War of 1812 and the days of the whalers and the great sailing vessels. There was a room filled with pirate fact and fiction, and another focused on Laurie Cabot, who had brought not just modern-day wicca to Salem but also the tourist boom that was now so crucial to the area’s economy.
At last they reached the library, where only teachers, professors and serious students were allowed. It was Daniel’s favorite part of the museum, Rowenna knew. He liked to let the college students work with the exhibits—they were all more artistic than he was, he’d once told her—but the library was his domain. He was a voracious reader, and he kept a bookcase here of his personal books for whenever he had a spare moment, apart from the scholarly works, and antique books and manuscripts, the museum had bought or that had been donated by local residents.
She found herself glancing through his personal collection, thinking she might borrow something to read later, when she had finished with all her stops for the day.
She wasn’t going back to Jeremy’s rental house without something to keep her mind off things.
“You love books,” she said aloud.
“Yeah, anything,” he agreed cheerfully.
He was telling the truth. He had two shelves of classics, including Poe, Shakespeare, Dickens, Defoe and more. Contemporary fiction came next, with alphabetically arranged sections devoted to fantasy and science fiction, mysteries and thrillers, and horror. She was a little startled to see that he also had a collection of romance and erotica.
“Don’t laugh,” he said.