Caleb waited, tension filling him at the possibility of a break in the case, as the kid remained silent, studying the photo.
At last he said, “I think I do remember her, but her hair wasn’t down like this. She’d put it up, because of the heat and all.”
“Do you remember what tour she decided on?”
“She didn’t. She took all the brochures and said she’d be back, that she’d probably take several of them. It really is uncanny. Those two girls, they really could be the same person.” He looked up at Caleb again. “I’m sorry. I wish I could be more help.”
“You have helped. More than you can imagine,” Caleb told him. “Thanks.” He gave the guy his card, asking him to call if he thought of anything else, and left.
The sun was setting, and his feet hurt; it felt as if he had been walking around forever. But thanks to the kid at the tour office, at least he had some new information and an avenue to explore. Because the kid was right. The missing women didn’t just fit a general type. They looked so much alike that it was uncanny.
Whoever had taken Jennie Lawson was the same person who had just snatched Winona Hart. He was sure of it. And the trail leading away from Winona’s last known whereabouts would be much warmer than that of the one leading away from Jennie’s.
He was going to find the person behind Winona’s disappearance, and when he did, he would also find out what had happened to Jennie.
He started back toward his B&B then changed direction.
Five o’clock had come—and gone. Businesses—and museums—would be closed.
And the locals would be headed for Hunky Harry’s.
Caleb stood still for a long moment, remembering, as he watched people moving past him on the sidewalk, how Adam Harrison had asked him if he’d gotten a feel for anything. The tram was running a block away, and he could hear the conductor talking about Henry Flagler and the beautiful hotels he had built.
A cannon boomed from nearby Ft. Marion.
A horse-drawn carriage clip-clopped by, and a cloud slipped over the sun, casting the area into shades of silver and gray. The facades of the old Spanish buildings seemed to catch hold of the resulting shadows and recede back in history.
Had he gotten a feel for anything…?
Yes.
Yes, Adam, I have.
I have a feeling a very old house whose walls have been hiding hundreds of bones is somehow connected to what’s been going on here.
Not only that, but I have a feeling that its very beautiful owner is somehow—innocently, I’m sure—connected to the mystery, too.
Hunky Harry’s it was.
Sarah was tired and aggravated, and longing to get home.
While the morning had gone well, everything seemed to have gone to hell while she’d been gone for her lunch break.
The news about her house had gotten out, turning her world upside down.
The bones had been pretty much the only topic of discussion that afternoon. The receptionist had done nothing but field questions and interview requests from dozens of radio and television stations, not all of them local, which really amazed her. Even the visitors to the museum had heard about the discovery and wanted to talk about it; local history had flown right out the window.
When the first reporter had called, Sarah had taken the call. The man’s questions had all been about ghosts and haunted houses, and how did she feel about living with ghosts and wasn’t she afraid? After that she’d refused to come to the phone and ended up with a stack of messages that were all variations on that original theme.
She opted to work in the bookstore, leaving the lectures to Caroline, Renee and Barry, because that way, at least, when she faced the same ghoulish questions over and over again, she wasn’t interrupting history to answer.
“We’re heading to Hunky Harry’s, just for drinks,” Caroline told her as they closed the doors at last. “And you need a drink more than any of us. My parents said you should take a few days off, by the way.”
Sarah stared at her friend, dismayed. “They don’t want me here?”
“No, no, it’s nothing like that,” Caroline assured her. “They don’t want you pestered to death.”
“Well, tell them thanks, but I don’t want to take any time off,” Sarah said, then almost immediately thought better of it. She did want time off. She wanted to uncover the truth. She didn’t want other people telling her about her house. She wanted to do the research herself.
“Come have a drink and then see how you feel,” Caroline suggested.
“Okay, but I’ll have to meet you there. I just want to run by the house, see what’s happening,” Sarah said.
“I can go with you,” Caroline offered.
“No, I’ll be all right. You go with Barry and Renee. You should be with people—preferably including a big strong guy—right now.”
“Why?” Caroline asked, startled. Before Sarah could answer, she said, “Oh. Right. You’re worried because I’m a blonde with big blue eyes, and the hair and eye color of both girls were the same—as noted in the news reports.”