Finally, Eve huffed out a theatrical sigh. “Do I have to flash it under your nose?” Extending her left hand, she wriggled her fingers. Light bounced from a glittering square-cut diamond.
“Oh my God.” Katie’s mouth dropped. “Caden proposed!” With a squeal, she tugged Eve from the stool and caught her in a hug. “I am so happy for you two. Wait, wait. Let me see the ring.” Overcome by a flood of warmth, she held Eve’s hand and gazed at the shimmering stone in its delicate gold setting. “It’s so beautiful.” If there were two people meant to be together, it was Caden and Eve. “Did you set a date?”
“Not yet.” Eve positively glowed. “But probably this summer, if we can arrange everything.”
“I’ll help. And you can have the reception here, in your own hotel. It will be perfect.”
“That’s what I thought too.”
“Eve, I’m so happy for you.” Katie hugged her friend.
The sound of a man clearing his throat pulled them abruptly apart. “Ladies, I hate to intrude.”
Katie swept hair from her eyes, embarrassed she hadn’t heard anyone enter the lobby. “I’m sorry. Can we help you?”
The man who stood before the reception counter was incredibly striking and oddly familiar. He wore a black suit, black tie, and crisp white shirt with gold cufflinks. Neatly trimmed hair, nearly as pale as his shirt, contrasted sharply against coal-black eyes. A tailored overcoat lay draped over one arm. Instantly, she was reminded of the strange visitor who’d warned her and Sarah to caution others not to speak of UFOs.
“Oh…Katie…” Eve moved to intervene. “This is Mr. Lach Evening. He checked in last night. He’s staying in room eighteen.”
No wonder she hadn’t heard him enter the lobby. He’d come down the stairs, not through the front door. “Hello.” Recovering quickly, she offered a smile. Between his unusual name, arresting appearance, and the tugging sense of familiarity, she tried not to stammer. “It’s-it’s good to meet you, Mr. Evening. I hope you enjoy your stay with us.”
“I’m sure I will. Right now, however, I’d like to find a place for breakfast. I understand your café only serves lunch and dinner.” He spoke in a modulated tone, his words flavored with an unidentifiable accent. “If one of you could kindly point me in the right direction.”
“There’s a coffee shop one street over on the right,” Katie said. “Early Start. They do breakfast sandwiches, muffins, and eggs.” She didn’t add that it was owned by Suzanne Preech or that the prices tended to be inflated. “There’s also a McDonald’s on the other side of Viand.” She indicated the direction, though judging by his immaculately tailored appearance, he might not find fast food to his liking.
Mr. Evening nodded. “And the sheriff’s station?”
Beside her, Eve blinked. “Why would you want to go there?” As soon as she blurted the question, she shook her head. “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business. It’s just we’re a small town….”
“No offense taken.” He offered a polite smile. “It’s a personal matter which I’m sure you’d find tedious.”
“The sheriff’s office is to your left.” Katie was every bit as curious as Eve, especially with all the strangers in town, but courtesy kept her from prying. “Several blocks down, on the corner. You’ll see the sign on the door.”
“Thank you both.” Giving a nod, he slipped into his coat. His fingers were long and thin, but the last digit of each was plump and spherical, almost bulbous. “Good day, ladies.” He crowned his pale hair with an expensive-looking black fedora, then left through the front door.
“We seem to have a lot of strangers lately,” Katie commented after he’d left.
“I know.” Eve craned her neck to watch the man pass beyond the windows. “Do you think he’s one of those Men in Black? Donnie Bradley was in the café yesterday, and said he saw one of them lurking around the hospital.”
Katie stiffened, abruptly recalling where she’d seen the man.
The night her mom discovered Jerome unconscious, a man in black had been part of the crowd. He’d loitered by the corner of the building, watching from the darkness. And her mom had said Men in Black were commonly seen in town after Point Pleasant’s UFO flap of the mid-60s. It couldn’t be simple coincidence that Mr. Evening and others like him reappeared just as people started talking about strange lights in the sky. The recent sightings didn’t come close to rivaling the flap numbers of the sixties, but the presence of the government-like men in their dark suits couldn’t be chance.
“There’s something odd about them,” Katie agreed. “And what a name—Lach Evening. Did you notice his hands?”
“You mean his fingers? Yeah, weird.”
“The guy who came in while Sarah was here had the same type of fingers. He was dressed in black too.” Far too many coincidences to be mere chance.
“Maybe it’s a Halloween stunt,” Eve suggested. “In another two weeks we’ll be overrun with kids looking for candy. It could be some kind of publicity routine for one of the stores in Gallipolis.”
Katie nodded thoughtfully, but the suggestion seemed a stretch. They would have heard if that was the case. Whatever the reason, she’d be vigilant when she took Sam trick-or-treating at the end of the month. She shivered.
Lately, there were far worse things than ghosts and ghouls haunting Point Pleasant.
“Five bucks says he has something to do with the dogs.” Ryan stood by the coffee pot looking at Sheriff Pete Weston’s closed office door. Ten minutes before, a crisply tailored man in a black overcoat had arrived asking to speak with the department’s chief law enforcement officer. Thirtyish, with a slight accent, fair hair, and chiseled features, he carried himself in a manner that immediately turned heads. Joy, their resident clerk, had nearly tripped over herself in her haste to usher him into Weston’s office.