There were no human remains, but there was a yellowed envelope marked “DO NOT BEND” in black Sharpie. Lucas reached in to retrieve it. A small stack of photographs was tucked inside.
The first picture was of a tall, overly serious dark-haired girl standing next to a guy smoking a cigarette. The man wore a cowboy hat and matching boots. There were pine trees behind them. The pair in the photo hung off each other like siblings. The second photo had those same two people in it, but they were now joined by a cute blonde with a crooked haircut, and who looked to be little more than a child. She couldn’t have been much older than Jeanie. By the third photo, Lucas had lost his breath. He knew these kids, knew them from the countless pictures he’d seen on the Internet and in old articles. Except these were nothing he’d ever be able to match in an image search. These were someone’s personal items, photos they had taken of Halcomb and his brood.
“Holy shit,” he whispered, his throat suddenly dry. His eyes darted to Echo’s face, and the moment their eyes met, her mouth curled up in a satisfied smile. “Where did you get these?” He went back to the photos in his hands, afraid that if he looked away for too long they’d disappear, too good to be real. What he was holding was true-crime gold. If Lucas could publish them in his book, John would push for a blockbuster, one-day laydown release. Screw the writing—people would buy the damn thing just to get an eyeful of these never-before-seen pictures. But the real question wasn’t where Echo had obtained such items; it was how she had known to time her arrival so perfectly. It was strange, as though she hadn’t just googled him but had been peering through the window of his study, waiting for the precise moment to introduce him to his own salvation.
“My family has owned the house down the road for a long time,” she said. “My mom lived there in the early eighties.”
“Your mom? You mean . . .”
Echo nodded. “She knew them. She and Audra Snow were best friends.”
Lucas’s stomach flipped. “You’re kidding me.” Was this really luck? Could serendipity truly be this fortuitous?
She shook her head with a little laugh. “I swear I’m not joking.”
Setting the photos aside, he reached into the box once more and drew out a stack of brittle newspaper clippings, most of which he’d read before. But that didn’t matter. If Echo’s mother knew Audra, really knew her, it was another lead.
“Why are you showing me this?” He shot her a look, unable to keep his suspicions at bay. “We don’t even know each other. You realize this stuff . . .”
Echo held up a hand, assuring him that he didn’t have to finish his statement. She knew. The contents of this box would change everything. It would, perhaps, even change his life.
“I told you, I’m a helper. I feel like it’s what I’m supposed to do, at least to pay homage to Audra in my mother’s name.”
Shit. That meant Echo’s mom wasn’t around anymore. But he still had Audra’s best friend’s daughter. Hell, maybe Audra was like an aunt to Echo when she was a kid. Maybe Echo had met the group herself. She’d been young, but that didn’t mean she’d forgotten it all.
“When I came to introduce myself, you put out this vibe,” Echo explained. “You were in distress. I picked up on it right away. I suppose I’m just a good guesser.” She shrugged. “I figured that maybe, since you said you were going to move away from here, that distress had something to do with your job. And so, here I am.” She lifted a shoulder, smiled. “Just remember me when you finish your book. Give me a mention. Maybe even offer me one of those beers.”
“Oh God.” Lucas shot a glance at his nearly empty bottle. “I’m sorry, do you—”
“It’s okay.” She cut him off. “Next time. I just wanted to drop that off. After all, you have a lot of work to do.”
Lucas shook his head, hardly understanding any of this. It was impossible, a situation that only happened in movies—a happy coincidence that could never occur in real life. Too perfect. But he decided to put his trepidation aside. This was too much of a good thing to lose to his own paranoia. “Hey, I can’t just let you give this to me,” he told her. “Let me pay you or something.”
“I’m not selling them,” she said. “You’re borrowing them, that’s all.”
“No, no, I understand, I just don’t . . . I don’t feel right. I don’t think you understand how incredible this stuff is. It’s invaluable. Priceless. This is like . . .” He struggled to find the words.
She finished his sentence. “It’s the Halcomb Holy Grail, yes, I’m aware. If anyone will put it to good use, I’m confident it’s you. I’m a helper, remember?” Echo lifted her hands, wiggled her fingers at him as if summoning some unknown, mystical force. “The color of your aura is already changing. That distress is dissipating, which means I’ve done my job.”
He didn’t know what to say. It was a kindness that he couldn’t begin to understand, especially after not being that accommodating a neighbor. He hadn’t been on his best behavior when Echo had paid her first visit, and yet here she was, fulfilling her spiritual role. He took a breath and slowly exhaled. “Beer,” he said. “A thousand bottles of whatever you choose—just tell me what you like and come over whenever you want.”
Echo smiled at the offer. “That would be nice.” She cast a look around the room again and nodded. “I’d like that.”
“Then that’s what it’ll be,” Lucas said. Good fences make good neighbors, his father would have grumbled, but this time his dad would have been wrong. This strange granola girl had made his day. His year. Possibly his career.
And even though he had been cursing Halcomb not a half hour before, now he couldn’t help but think, Thank God he talked me into moving to Pier Pointe. Because without Pier Pointe, he wouldn’t have met Echo, and without Echo, there would be no hope. Suddenly, his dead project was alive and kicking.
Screw Jeffrey Halcomb. If he didn’t want to talk, Lucas would talk to Echo, the next best thing, instead.