True Believer - Nicholas Sparks

[Dalyia]

, the population of the county had actually dropped, which didn’t surprise him in the slightest.He also read the account of the cemetery in the book of ghost stories. In this version, Hettie cursed the town, not because the bodies in the cemetery had been removed, but because she’d refused to step aside and into the road when the wife of one of the commissioners was approaching from the opposite direction. However, because she was regarded as an almost spiritual figure in Watts Landing, she escaped arrest, so a few of the more racist townsfolk took matters into their own hands and caused a great deal of damage in the Negro cemetery. In her anger, Hettie cursed the Cedar Creek Cemetery and swore that her ancestors would tread the cemetery grounds until the earth swallowed it whole.Jeremy leaned back in his chair, thinking. Three completely different versions of essentially the same legend. He wondered what that meant.Interestingly, the writer of the book—A. J. Morrison—had added an italicized postscript stating that the Cedar Creek Cemetery had actually begun to sink. According to surveys, the cemetery grounds had sunk by nearly twenty inches; the author offered no explanation.Jeremy checked the date of publication. The book had been written in 1954, and by the way the cemetery looked now, he figured it had sunk at least another three feet since then. He made a note to see if he could find surveys from that period, as well as any done more recently.Still, as he absorbed the information, he couldn’t help glancing over his shoulder from time to time on the off-chance that Lexie had returned.Across town, on the fairway of the fourteenth tee and with his cell phone sandwiched against his ear, the mayor snapped to attention as he listened to the caller though the hissing static. Reception was bad in this part of the county, and the mayor wondered if holding his five-iron above his head would help him make sense of what was being said.“He was at Herbs? Today at lunch? Did you say Primetime Live?”He nodded, pretending not to notice that his golf buddy, who was in turn pretending to see where his most recent shot had landed, had just kicked the ball from behind a tree into a better position.“Found it!” his buddy yelled, and began setting up for the shot.The mayor’s buddy did things like that all the time, which frankly didn’t bother the mayor all that much, since he’d just done the same thing. Maintaining his three handicap would have otherwise been impossible.Meanwhile, as the caller was finishing up, his buddy launched his shot into the trees again.“Damnation!” he shouted. The mayor ignored him.“Well, this is definitely interesting,” the mayor said, his mind whirring with possibilities, “and I’m very glad you called. You take care, now. Bye.”He flipped the phone closed, just as his buddy was approaching.“I hope I get a good lie with that one.”“I wouldn’t worry too much,” the mayor said, pondering the sudden development in town. “I’m sure it’ll end up being right where you want it.”“Who was that on the phone?”“Fate,” he announced. “And if we play this right, just maybe our salvation.”Two hours later, just as the sun was dropping below the treetops and shadows began to stretch through the window, Lexie poked her head into the rare-book room.“How’d it go?”Glancing over his shoulder, Jeremy smiled. Pushing back from the desk, he ran his hand through his hair. “Good,” he said. “I learned quite a bit.”“Do you have the magic answer yet?”“No, but I’m getting closer. I can feel it.”She moved into the room. “I’m glad. But as I said earlier, I usually lock up here about five o’clock so I can handle the after-work crowd when they come in.”He stood from the desk. “No problem. I’m getting a little tired, anyway. It’s been a long day.”“You’ll be in tomorrow morning, right?”“I was planning on it. Why?”“Well, normally, I put everything back on the shelves daily.”“Would it be possible to just keep the stack the way it is, for now? I’m sure I’ll go through most of the books again.”She thought for a moment. “I suppose that’s okay. But I do have to warn you that if you don’t show up first thing, I’ll think I misjudged you.”He nodded, looking solemn. “I promise I won’t stand you up. I’m not that kind of guy.”She rolled her eyes, thinking, Oh, brother. He was persistent, though. She had to give him that. “I’m sure you say that to all the girls, Mr. Marsh.”“No,” he said, leaning against the desk. “Actually, I’m very shy. Almost a hermit, really. I hardly ever get out.”She shrugged. “Shows me what I know. Being that you’re a journalist from the big city, I had you figured as a ladies’ man.”“And that bothers you?”“No.”“Good. Because, as you know, first impressions can be deceiving.”“Oh, I realized that right away.”“You did?”“Sure,” she said. “When I first bumped into you at the cemetery, I thought you were there for a funeral.”

[Dalyia]

True BelieverFiveFifteen minutes later, after heading down an asphalt road that gave way to yet another gravel road—they sure were fond of gravel around here—Jeremy found himself parking his car in the middle of a swamp, directly in front of a hand-painted sign advertising Greenleaf Cottages. Which reminded him never to trust the promises of the local Chamber of Commerce.Modern, it definitely wasn’t. It wouldn’t have been modern thirty years ago. In all, there were six small bungalows set along the river. With peeling paint, plank walls, and tin roofs, they were reached by following small dirt pathways that led from a central bungalow that he assumed to be the main office. It was scenic, he had to admit, but the rustic part probably referred to mosquitoes and alligators, neither of which summoned up a lot of enthusiasm in him for staying there.As he was debating whether he should even bother checking in—he’d passed some chain hotels in Washington, about forty minutes from Boone Creek—he heard the sound of an engine coming up the road and watched as a maroon Cadillac came rolling toward him, bouncing wildly in the potholes. Surprising him, it pulled into the spot directly beside his own car, spewing up rocks as it slid to a stop.An overweight, balding man burst from the door, looking frantic. Dressed in green polyester pants and a blue turtleneck sweater, the man looked as if he’d dressed in the dark.“Mr. Marsh?”Jeremy was taken aback. “Yes?”The man scurried around the car. Everything about him seemed to move quickly.“Well, I’m glad I caught you before you checked in! I wanted to have a chance to speak with you! I can’t tell you how excited we all are about your visit here!”He seemed breathless as he stretched out his hand and shook Jeremy’s vigorously.“Do I know you?” Jeremy asked.“No, no, of course not.” The man laughed. “I’m Mayor Tom Gherkin. Like the pickle, but you can call me Tom.” He laughed again. “I just wanted to swing by to welcome you to our fine town. Sorry for my appearance. I would have had you down to the office, but I came straight from the golf course once I learned you were here.”Jeremy looked him over, still a bit in shock. At least it explained the clothes.“You’re the mayor?”“Have been since ’94. It’s kind of a family tradition. My daddy, Owen Gherkin, was the mayor here for twenty-four years. Had a big interest in the town, my daddy did. Knew everything there was to know about this place. Of course, being the mayor is only a part-time job here. It’s more of an honorary position. I’m more of a businessman, if you want to know the truth. I own the department store and radio station downtown. Oldies. You like oldies?”“Sure,” Jeremy said.“Good, good. I figured as much from the moment I laid eyes on you. I said to myself, ‘That’s a man who appreciates good music.’ I can’t stand most of that new stuff everyone else calls music these days. Gives me a headache. Music should soothe the soul. Youknow what I mean?”“Sure,” Jeremy repeated, trying to keep up.He laughed. “I knew you would. Well, like I said, I can’t tell you how thrilled we all are that you’re here to write a story about our fine town. It’s just the thing this town needs. I mean, who doesn’t like a good ghost story, right? It’s got folks real excited around here, that’s for sure. First the folks from Duke, then the local paper. And now a big-city journalist. Word’s getting out, and that’s good. Why, just last week, we had a call from a group from Alabama that was thinking about spending a few days here this weekend for the Historic Homes Tour.”Jeremy shook his head, trying to slow things down. “How did you know I was even here?”Mayor Gherkin laid a friendly hand on his shoulder, and almost before Jeremy realized it, they were moving toward the bungalow office. “Word gets around, Mr. Marsh. Passes like wildfire. Always has, always will. Part of the charm of this place. That, and the natural beauty. We’ve got some of the best fishing and duck hunting in the state, you know. Folks come from all over, even famous ones, and most of ’em stay right here at Greenleaf. This here is a little piece of paradise, if you ask me. Your own quiet bungalow, out here in the middle of nature. Why, you’ll be listening to the birds and crickets all night long. I’ll bet it makes you see those hotels in New York in a whole new light.”“That it does,” Jeremy admitted. The man was definitely a politician.“And don’t you worry none about the snakes.”Jeremy’s eyes widened. “Snakes?”“I’m sure you heard about it, but just keep in mind that the whole situation here last year was just a misunderstanding. Some folks just don’t have a speck of common sense. But like I said, don’t worry about ’em. The snakes don’t normally come out till the summer, anyway. Of course, don’t go poking through the brush or anything, lookin’ for ’em. Those cottonmouths can be nasty.”“Uh,” Jeremy said, trying to summon a response in the midst of the vision that had been conjured up in his mind. He hated snakes. Even more than mosquitoes and alligators. “Actually, I was thinking . . .”Mayor Gherkin sighed loudly enough to interrupt Jeremy’s answer, and looked around, as if making sure Jeremy noticed how much he was enjoying the natural setting. “So tell me, Jeremy . . . you don’t mind if I call you Jeremy?”“No.”“That’s mighty kind of you. Mighty kind. So, Jeremy, I was wondering if you think one of those television shows might follow up on your story here.”“I have no idea,” he said.“Well, because if they do, we’d roll out the red carpet. Show ’em some genuine southern hospitality. Why, we’d put ’em up right here at Greenleaf, free of charge. And, of course, they’d have a whale of a story to tell. Much better than what you did on Prime-time. What we have here is the real thing.”“You do realize that I’m primarily a columnist? Normally, I have nothing to do with television . . .”“No, of course not.” Mayor Gherkin winked, obviously in disbelief. “You just do what you do, and we’ll see what happens.”“I’m serious,” Jeremy said.He winked again. “Of course, you are.”Jeremy wasn’t quite sure what to say to dissuade him—mainly because the man might be right—and a moment later, Mayor Gherkin pushed through the door of the office. If you could call it that.It looked as if it hadn’t been remodeled in a hundred years, and the wood walls reminded him of what he might find in a log cabin. Just beyond the tottering desk was a largemouth bass mounted on the wall; in every corner, along the walls, and atop the file cabinet and desk were stuffed critters: beavers, rabbits, squirrels, opossums, skunks, and a badger. Unlike most of the mounts he’d seen, however, all had been mounted to make them appear as if they’d been cornered and were trying to defend themselves. Mouths were molded into snarls, the bodies arched, teeth and claws exposed. Jeremy was still absorbing the images when he spotted a bear in the corner and jumped in shock. Like the other animals, its paws were outstretched as if attacking. The place was the Museum of Natural History transformed into a horror movie and squeezed into a closet.Behind the desk, a huge, heavily bearded man sat with his feet propped up, a television in front of him. The picture was fuzzy, with vertical lines passing through the screen every couple of seconds, making it nearly impossible to see what was on.The man rose from behind the desk and kept on rising until he towered over Jeremy. He had to be at least seven feet tall, and his shoulders were broader than the ones on the stuffed bear in the corner. Dressed in overalls and a plaid shirt, he grabbed a clipboard and set it on the desk.He pointed to Jeremy and the clipboard. He didn’t smile; for all intents and purposes, he looked as if he wanted nothing more than to pull Jeremy’s arms from his body so he could use them to beat him, before mounting him on the wall.Gherkin, not surprisingly, laughed. The man laughed a lot, Jeremy noticed.“Don’t let him worry you none, Jeremy,” the mayor offered quickly. “Jed here doesn’t talk much to strangers. Just fill out the form, and you’ll be on your way to your own little room in paradise.”Jeremy was staring wide-eyed at Jed, thinking the man was the scariest-looking person he’d ever seen in his life.“Not only does he own Greenleaf and serve on the town council, but he’s the local taxidermist,” Gherkin went on. “Isn’t his work incredible?”“Incredible,” Jeremy said, forcing a smile.“You shoot anything around here, you come to Jed. He’ll do you right.”“I’ll try to remember that.”The mayor suddenly brightened. “You hunt, do ya?”“Not too much, to be honest.”“Well, maybe we’ll change that while you’re down here. I mentioned that the duck hunting here is spectacular, didn’t I?”As Gherkin spoke, Jed tapped his massive finger on the clipboard again.“Now, don’t try to intimidate the fellow,” Mayor Gherkin broke in. “He’s from New York. He’s a big-city journalist, so you treat him right.”Mayor Gherkin turned his attention to Jeremy again. “And, Jeremy, just so you know, the town will be happy to pay for your accommodations here.”“That’s not necessary . . .”“Not another word,” he said, waiving the rebuff off. “The decision’s already been made by the higher-ups.” He winked. “That’s me, by the way. But it’s the least we can do for such a distinguished guest.”“Well, thank you.”Jeremy reached for the pen. He began to fill out the registration form, feeling Jed’s eyes on him and afraid of what would happen if he changed his mind about staying. Gherkin leaned over his shoulder.“Did I mention how thrilled we are to have you in town?”Across town, in a blue-shuttered white bungalow on a quiet street, Doris was sautéing bacon, onions, and garlic as a pot of pasta boiled on a nearby burner. Lexie was dicing tomatoes and carrots over the sink, rinsing as she went along. After finishing at the library, she’d swung by Doris’s, as she normally did a few times a week. Though she had her own house nearby, she often had dinner at her grandmother’s. Old habits die hard, and all that.On the windowsill, the radio played jazz, and aside from the perfunctory conversation typical of family members, neither had said much at all. For Doris

[Dalyia]

, the reason was her long day at work. Ever since a heart attack two years ago, she tired more easily, even if she didn’t want to admit it. For Lexie, the reason was Jeremy Marsh, though she knew enough not to say anything to Doris about it. Doris had always taken an acute interest in her personal life, and Lexie had learned that it was best to avoid the topic whenever possible.Lexie knew her grandmother meant no harm. Doris simply didn’t understand why someone in her thirties hadn’t settled down yet, and she’d reached the point where she frequently wondered aloud why Lexie wasn’t married. As sharp as she was, Doris was from the old school; she married at twenty and had spent the next forty-four years with a man she adored, until he passed away three years ago. Lexie’s grandparents had raised her, after all, and Lexie could pretty much condense all of Doris’s hemming and hawing into just a few simple thoughts: it was time for her to meet a nice guy, settle down, move into a house with a white picket fence, and have babies.Doris wasn’t so strange in that belief, Lexie knew. Around here, anyway, that’s what was expected of women. And when she was honest with herself, Lexie sometimes wished for a life like that as well. In theory, anyway. But she wanted to meet the right guy first, someone who inspired her, the kind of guy she would be proud to call her man. That was where she and Doris differed. Doris seemed to think that a decent, moral man with a good job was all a woman should reasonably expect. And maybe in the past, those were all the qualities that someone could expect. But Lexie didn’t want to settle for someone simply because he was kind and decent and had a good job. Who knows—maybe she had unrealistic expectations, but Lexie wanted to feel passion for him as well. No matter how kind or responsible a man was, if she didn’t feel any passion, she couldn’t help but think that she’d be “settling” for someone, and she didn’t want to settle. That wouldn’t be fair to her and it wouldn’t be fair to him. She wanted a man who was both sensitive and kind, but at the same time could sweep her off her feet. She wanted someone who would offer to rub her feet after a long day at the library, but also challenge her intellectually. Someone romantic, of course, the kind of guy who would buy her flowers for no reason at all.It wasn’t too much to ask, was it?According to Glamour, Ladies’ Home Journal, and Good Housekeeping—all of which the library received—it was. In those magazines, it seemed that every article stated that it was completely up to the woman to keep the excitement alive in a relationship. But wasn’t a relationship supposed to be just that? A relationship? Both partners doing everything they could to keep the other satisfied?See, that was the problem with many of the married couples she knew. In any marriage, there was a fine balance between doing what you wanted and doing what your partner wanted, and as long as both the husband and the wife were doing what the other wanted, there was never any problem. The problems arose when people started doing what they wanted without regard to the other. A husband suddenly decides he needs more sex and looks for it outside of the marriage; a wife decides she needs more affection, which eventually leads to her doing exactly the same thing. A good marriage, like any partnership, meant subordinating one’s own needs to that of the other’s, in the expectation that the other will do the same. And as long as both partners keep up their end of the bargain, all is well in the world.But if you didn’t feel any passion for your husband, could you really expect that? She wasn’t sure. Doris, of course, had a ready answer. “Trust me, honey, that passes after the first couple of years,” she would say, despite the fact that, to Lexie’s mind, anyway, her grandparents had the kind of relationship that anyone would envy. Her grandfather was one of those naturally romantic men. Until the very end, he would open the car door for Doris and hold her hand when they walked through town. He had been both committed and faithful to her. He clearly adored her and would often comment on how lucky he was to have met a woman like her. After he passed on, part of Doris had begun to die as well. First the heart attack, now worsening arthritis; it was as if they’d always been meant to be together. When coupled with Doris’s advice, what did that mean? Did that mean Doris had simply been lucky in meeting a man like him? Or had she seen something in her husband beforehand, something that confirmed he was the right one for her?More important, why on earth was Lexie even thinking about marriage again?Probably because she was here at Doris’s house, the house she’d grown up in after her parents had died. Cooking with her in the kitchen was comforting in its familiarity, and she remembered growing up thinking that she would one day live in a house like this. Weathered planking; a tin roof that echoed the sound of rain, making it seem that it was raining nowhere else in the world; old-fashioned windows with frames that had been painted so many times that they were almost impossible to open. And she did live in a house like that. Well, sort of, anyway. At first glance, it would seem that Doris’s home and hers were similar—they were built in the same era—but she’d never been able to replicate the aromas. The Sunday afternoon stews, the sun-dried scent of sheets on the bed, the slightly stuffy smell of the ancient rocker where her grandfather had relaxed for years. Smells like those reflected a way of life worn smooth with comfort over the years, and whenever she pushed through the door here, she was flooded with vivid childhood memories.Of course, she’d always imagined that she would have a family of her own by now, maybe even children, but it hadn’t worked out. Two relationships had come close: there was the long relationship with Avery, which had begun in college, and after that, another involving a young man from Chicago who was visiting his cousin in Boone Creek one summer. He was the classic Renaissance man: he spoke four languages, spent a year studying at the London School of Economics, and had paid his way through school with a baseball scholarship. Mr. Renaissance was charming and exotic, and she’d fallen for him quickly. She thought he’d stay here, thought he’d grow to love the place as much as she did, but she woke up one Saturday morning to learn that he was on his way back to Chicago. He never even bothered to say good-bye.And after that? Not much, really. There were a couple of other flings that lasted six months or so, neither of which she thought about much anymore. One had been with a local physician, the other a lawyer; both had proposed to her, but again, she hadn’t felt the magic or thrill or whatever it was you were supposed to feel to let you know that you didn’t need to look any further. In the last couple of years, the dates had been fewer and further apart, unless you counted Rodney Hopper, a deputy sheriff in town. They’d gone on a dozen or so dates, one every other month or so, whenever there was a local benefit that she was encouraged to attend. Like her, Rodney had been born and raised here, and when they were kids, they used to share the teeter-totter behind the Episcopal Church. Ever since, he’d been pining away for her and had asked her a couple of times to accompany him for drinks at the Lookilu Tavern. Sometimes she wondered whether she should just take him up on his offers to date her regularly, but Rodney . . . well, he was a little too interested in fishing and hunting and lifting weights and not quite interested enough in books or anything going on in the rest of the world. He was a nice guy, though, and she figured he’d make a fine husband. But not for her.So where did that leave her?Here at Doris’s, three times a week, she thought, waiting for the inevitable questions about her love life.“So what did you think of him?” Doris asked, right on cue.Lexie couldn’t help smiling. “Who?” she asked, playing innocent.“Jeremy Marsh. Who did you think I was talking about?”“I have no idea. That’s why I asked the question.”“Quit avoiding the subject. I heard he spent a couple of hours at the library.”Lexie shrugged. “He seemed nice enough. I helped him find a few books to get him started, and that was about it.”“You didn’t talk to him?”“Of course, we talked. Like you said, he was there for a while.”Doris waited for Lexie to add more, but when she didn’t, Doris sighed. “Well, I liked him,” Doris volunteered. “He seemed like a perfect gentleman.”“Oh, he was,” Lexie agreed. “Just perfect.”“You don’t sound like you mean that.”“What else do you want me to say?”“Well, was he charmed by your sparkling personality?”“Why on earth would that matter? He’s only in town for a few days.”“Did I ever tell you about the way I met your grandfather?”“Many times,” Lexie said, remembering the story well. They’d met on a train that was heading to Baltimore; he was from Grifton and on his way to interview for a job, one that he would never take, choosing to be with her instead.“Then you know that you’re most likely to meet someone when you least expect it.”“You always say that.”Doris winked. “That’s only because I think you need to keep hearing it.”Lexie brought the salad bowl to the table. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’m happy. I love my job, I have good friends, I have time to read and jog and do the things I love.”“And don’t forget you’re blessed with me, too.”“Of course,” Lexie affirmed. “How could I forget that?”Doris chuckled and went back to sautéing. For a moment, there was silence in the kitchen, and Lexie breathed a sigh of relief. At least that was over, and thankfully, Doris hadn’t pushed too hard.Now, she thought, they could have a pleasant dinner.“I thought he was quite handsome,” Doris opined.Lexie said nothing; instead, she grabbed a couple of plates and utensils before moving to the table. Maybe it was better if she simply pretended not to hear her.“And just to let you know, there’s more to him than you think there is,” she went on. “He’s not what you imagine him to be.”It was the way she said it that gave Lexie pause. She had heard that tone many times in the past—when she’d wanted to go out with friends in high school, only to have Doris talk her out of going; when she wanted to take a trip to Miami a few years back, only to be talked out of it. In the first instance, the friends she’d wanted to join were involved in a car accident; in the latter, riots had broken out in the city and had spilled into the hotel where she’d been planning to stay.Doris sometimes sensed things, she knew. Not as much as Doris’s own mother had. But even though Doris seldom explained further, Lexie was fully aware that she always sensed the truth.Completely unaware that phone lines were buzzing all over as people discussed his presence in town, Jeremy was lying in bed under the covers, watching the local news while waiting for the weather report, wishing he had followed his initial impulse and checked into another hotel. He had no doubt that had he done so, he wouldn’t have been surrounded by Jed’s handiwork, which gave him the willies.The man obviously had a lot of time on his hands.And a lot of bullets. Or pellets. Or the front end of a pickup. Or whatever it was he used to kill all these varmints. In his room, there were twelve critters; with the exception of a second stuffed bear, representatives of the entire zoological species of North Carolina would be keeping him company. No doubt Jed would have included a bear as well if he’d had an extra one.Other than that, the room wasn’t too bad, as long as he didn’t expect a high-speed connection to the Internet, or to warm the room without use of the fireplace, order room service, watch cable, or even dial out on a push-button phone. He hadn’t seen a dial phone in what? Ten years? Even his mother had succumbed to the modern world on that one.But not Jed. Nope. Good old Jed obviously had his own ideas of what was important in the way of accommodations for his guests.If there was one decent thing about the room, though, it did have a nice covered porch out back, one that overlooked the river. There was even a rocking chair, and Jeremy considered sitting outside for a while, until he remembered the snakes. Which made him wonder what sort of misunderstanding Gherkin had been talking about. He didn’t like the sound of that. He really should have asked more about it, just as he should have asked where he could find some firewood around here. This place was absolutely freezing, but he had the funny suspicion that Jed wouldn’t answer the phone if he tried to call the office and ask. And besides, Jed scared him.Just then the meteorologist appeared on the news. Steeling himself, Jeremy hopped out of bed to turn up the volume. Moving as quickly as he could, he shivered as he adjusted the set, then dove back under the covers.The meteorologist was immediately replaced by commercials. Figures.He’d been wondering whether he should head out to the cemetery but wanted to find out if fog was likely. If not, he’d catch up on his rest. It had been a long day; he’d started out in the modern world, went back in time fifty years, and now he was sleeping in the midst of ice and death. It certainly wasn’t something that happened to him every day.And, of course, there was Lexie. Lexie whatever-her-lastname-was. Lexie the mysterious. Lexie who flirted and withdrew and flirted again.She had been flirting, hadn’t she? The way she kept calling him Mr. Marsh? The fact that she pretended to have sized him up almost immediately? The funeral comment? Definitely flirting.Wasn’t it?The meteorologist came on again, looking fresh out of college. The guy couldn’t have been more than twenty-three or -four and was no doubt working his first job. He had that deer-in-the-headlights-but-enthusiastic look about him. But at least the guy seemed competent. He didn’t stumble over his words, and Jeremy knew almost immediately that he wouldn’t be leaving the room. The skies were expected to be clear throughout the evening, and the man mentioned nothing about the possibility of fog tomorrow, either.Figures, he thought.

[Dalyia]

True BelieverSixThe following morning after showering under a lukewarm trickle of water, Jeremy slipped on a pair of jeans, sweater, and brown leather jacket and made his way to Herbs, which seemed to be the most popular breakfast place in town. At the counter, he noticed Mayor Gherkin talking to a couple of men dressed in suits, and Rachel was busy working the tables. Jed was seated on the far side of the room, looking like the back side of a mountain. Tully was sitting at one of the center tables with three other men and, as could be expected, was doing most of the talking. People nodded and waved as Jeremy wound through the tables, and the mayor raised his coffee cup in salute.“Well, good morning, Mr. Marsh,” Mayor Gherkin called out. “Thinking of positive things to write about our town, I hope?”“I’m sure he is,” Rachel chimed in.“Hope you found the cemetery,” Tully drawled. He leaned toward the others at his table. “That there’s the doctor I was telling you about.”Jeremy waved and nodded back, trying to avoid getting corralled into a conversation. He’d never been a morning person, and on top of that, he hadn’t slept well. Ice and death, coupled with nightmares about snakes, could do that to a person. He took a seat in the corner booth, and Rachel moved to the table withefficiency, carrying a pot of coffee with her.“No funeral today?” she teased.“No. I decided to go with a more casual look,” he explained.“Coffee, darlin’?”“Please.”After flipping the cup, she filled it to the brim. “Would you like the special this mornin’? People have been ravin’ about it.”“What is the special?”“A Carolina omelet.”“Sure,” he said, having no idea what was in a Carolina omelet, but with his stomach growling, anything sounded good.“With grits and a biscuit?”“Why not?” he said.“Be back in a few minutes, darlin’.”Jeremy began nursing his coffee while perusing yesterday’s newspaper. All four pages of it, including a big front-page story on a Ms. Judy Roberts, who’d just celebrated her hundredth birthday, a milestone now reached by 1.1 percent of the population. Along with the article was a picture of the staff at the nursing home holding a cupcake with a single lit candle atop it, as Ms. Roberts lay in the bed behind them, looking comatose.He glanced through the window, wondering why he’d even bothered with the local paper. There was a vending machine out front offering USA Today, and he was reaching into his pocket to look for change when a uniformed deputy took a seat directly across the table from him.The man looked both angry and extremely fit; his biceps swelled the seams of his shirt, and he wore mirrored sunglasses that had gone out of style . . . oh, twenty years ago, Jeremy guessed, right after CHiPS went off the air. His hand rested on his holster, right atop a gun. In his mouth was a toothpick, which he moved from one side to the other. He said nothing at all, preferring to simply stare, giving Jeremy plenty of time tostudy his own reflection.It was, Jeremy had to admit, sort of intimidating.“Can I help you?” Jeremy asked.The toothpick moved from side to side again. Jeremy closed the newspaper, wondering what on earth was going on.“Jeremy Marsh?” the officer intoned.“Yes?”“Thought so,” he said.Above the officer’s breast pocket, Jeremy noticed a shiny bar with the name engraved on it. Yet another name tag.“And you must be Sheriff Hopper?”“Deputy Hopper,” he corrected.“Sorry,” Jeremy said. “Have I done something wrong, Officer?”“I don’t know,” Hopper said. “Have you?”“Not that I know of.”Deputy Hopper moved the toothpick again. “You planning to stick around for a while?”“Just for a week or so. I’m here to write an article—”“I know why you’re here,” Hopper interrupted. “I just thought I’d check it out myself. I like to visit with strangers who are planning to hang around for a while.”He put the emphasis on the word “stranger,” making Jeremy feel it was some sort of crime. He wasn’t quite sure that any response would diffuse the hostility, so he fell back on the obvious.“Ah,” he said.“I hear you intend to spend a lot of time at the library.”“Well . . . I guess I might—”“Mmm,” the deputy rumbled, cutting him off again.Jeremy reached for his coffee cup and took a sip, buying time. “I’m sorry, Deputy Hopper, but I’m not exactly sure what’s going on here.”“Mmm,” Hopper said again.“Now, you’re not hassling our guest, are you, Rodney?” the mayor called out from across the room. “He’s a special visitor, here to drum up interest in the local folklore.”Deputy Hopper didn’t flinch or turn his gaze away from Jeremy. For whatever reason, he looked downright angry. “Just visiting with him, Mayor.”“Well, let the man enjoy his breakfast,” Gherkin chided, moving toward the table. He waved a hand. “Come on over here, Jeremy. I’ve got a couple of people I’d like you to meet.”Deputy Hopper scowled as Jeremy rose from the table and made his way toward Mayor Gherkin.When he was close, the mayor introduced him to two people; one was the almost emaciated county lawyer, the other a heavyset physician who worked at the local medical clinic. Both seemed to evaluate him in the same way that Deputy Hopper had. Reserving judgment, as they say. Meanwhile, the mayor was going on about how exciting Jeremy’s visit was for the town. Leaning toward the other two, he nodded conspiratorially.“Might even end up on Primetime Live,” he whispered.“Really?” the lawyer said. Jeremy figured the guy could easily pass for a skeleton.Jeremy shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Well, as I was trying to explain to the mayor yesterday—”Mayor Gherkin slapped him on the back, cutting him off.“Very exciting,” Mayor Gherkin added. “Major television exposure.”The others nodded, their faces solemn.“And speaking of the town,” the mayor suddenly added, “I’d like to invite you to a little get-together dinner this evening with a few close friends. Nothing too extravagant, of course, but since you’ll be here for a few days, I’d like to give you the chance to get to know some of the folks around here.”Jeremy held up his hands. “That’s not really necessary . . .”“Nonsense,” Mayor Gherkin said. “It’s the least we can do.And, remember, some of these people I’m inviting have seen those ghosts, and you’ll have the chance to pick their collective brains. Their stories might even give you nightmares.”He raised his eyebrows; the lawyer and the physician waited expectantly. When Jeremy hesitated, it was all the mayor needed to conclude.“Say about seven o’clock?” he said.“Yeah . . . sure. I guess that’s fine,” Jeremy agreed. “Where’s the dinner going to be?”“I’ll let you know a little later. I assume you’ll be at the library, right?”“Probably.”The mayor raised his eyebrows. “So I take it you’ve already met our fine librarian, Miss Lexie?”“I have, yes.”“She’s quite impressive, isn’t she?”There was just a hint of other possibilities in the way he phrased it, something akin to locker-room talk.“She’s been very helpful,” Jeremy said.The lawyer and the physician smiled, but before the conversation went any further, Rachel came slithering by, just a little too close. Holding a plate, she nudged Jeremy.“Come on, darlin’. I’ve got your breakfast right here.”Jeremy glanced at the mayor.“By all means,” Mayor Gherkin said, waving his hands.Jeremy followed her back to the table. Thankfully, Deputy Hopper was gone by then, and Jeremy slid back into his seat. Rachel set the plate in front of him.“You just enjoy that. I told ’em to make it extra special, since you’re visiting from New York City. I absolutely love that place!”“Oh, you’ve been there?”“Well, no. But I’ve always wanted to go. It seems so . . . glamorous and exciting.”“You should go. It’s like nowhere else in the world.”She smiled, looking coy. “Why, Mr. Marsh . . . is that an invitation?”Jeremy’s jaw dropped. Huh?Rachel, on the other hand, didn’t seem to notice his expression. “Well, I just might want to take you up on that,” she twittered. “And I’d be glad to show you ’round the cemetery, any night you’d like to go. I’m usually finished here by three o’clock.”“I’ll keep that in mind,” Jeremy mumbled.Over the next twenty minutes, as Jeremy ate, Rachel came by a dozen times, refilling his coffee cup a quarter inch each time, smiling at him unrelentingly.Jeremy made his way to his car, recovering from what was supposed to have been a leisurely breakfast.Deputy Hopper. Mayor Gherkin. Tully. Rachel. Jed.Small-town USA was way too much to deal with before coffee.Tomorrow he’d just grab a cup of coffee somewhere else. He wasn’t sure eating at Herbs was worth it, even if the food was great. And, he had to admit, it was even better than he’d thought it would be. As Doris had said yesterday, it tasted fresh, like the ingredients had been gathered from the farm that morning.Still, tomorrow would be coffee elsewhere. And not from Tully’s gas station, either, assuming he even had coffee. He didn’t want to get stuck in a conversation when he had other things to do.He paused in midstep, amazed. Good Lord, he thought, I’m already thinking like a local.He shook his head and retrieved his keys from his pocket as he walked toward the car. At least breakfast was over. Checking his watch, he saw that it was coming up on nine o’clock. Good.Lexie found herself glancing out the window of her office the exact moment Jeremy Marsh pulled into the library parking lot.Jeremy Marsh. Who’d continued to creep into her thoughts, even though she was trying to work. And just look at him now.Trying to dress more casually to blend with folks around here, she supposed. And somehow he’d almost pulled it off.But enough of that. She had work to do. Her office was lined with bookcases crammed from top to bottom: books piled every which way, vertical and horizontal. A steel-gray filing cabinet stood in the corner, and her desk and chair were typically functional. There was little in the office that was decorative, simply for lack of space, and paperwork was piled everywhere: in corners, beneath the window, on the extra chair perched in a corner. Large stacks were also present on her desk, which held everything she considered urgent.The budget was due at the end of the month, and she had a stack of publishers’ catalogs to go through before placing her weekly order. Add to the list finding a speaker for the Friends of the Library luncheon in April and getting everything set for the Historic Homes Tour—of which the library was part, since at one point it was a historic home—and she barely had enough time to breathe. She had two full-time employees, but she’d learned that things worked best if she didn’t delegate. The employees were fine for recommending recent titles and helping students find what they were looking for, but the last time she’d let one of them decide what books to order, she’d ended up with six different titles about orchids, since that happened to be the employee’s favorite flower. Earlier, after taking a seat in front of her computer, she’d tried to lay out a plan for organizing her schedule, but she hadn’t gotten anywhere. No matter how hard she’d tried to squelch it, her mind kept wandering back to Jeremy Marsh. She didn’t want to think about him, but Doris had said just enough to pique her curiosity.He’s not what you imagine him to be.What was that supposed to mean? Last night, when she’d pressed, Doris had clammed up, as if she hadn’t said anything in the first place. She didn’t mention Lexie’s love life again, or Jeremy Marsh, either. Instead, they circled the topic: what happened at work, what was going on with people they knew, how the Historic Homes Tour was shaping up for the weekend. Doris was the chair of the Historical Society, and the tour was one of the big events of the year, not that it took a lot of planning. For the most part, the same dozen homes were chosen every year, in addition to four churches and the library. As her grandmother rambled on, Lexie kept thinking about her pronouncement.He’s not what you imagine him to be.And what might that be? A big-city type? A ladies’ man? Someone in search of a quick fling? Someone who would make fun of the town the moment he left? Someone out for a story and willing to find one any way he could, even if it ended up hurting someone in the process?And why on earth did she even care? He was here for a few days, and then he’d be gone and everything would return to normal again. Thank goodness.Oh, she’d already heard the gossip this morning. At the bakery, where she’d stopped in for a muffin, she’d heard a couple of women talking about him. How he was going to make the town famous, how things might get a little better around here business-wise. The moment they saw her, they peppered her with questions about him and offered their own opinions as to whether he’d find the source of the mysterious lights.Some people here, after all, actually believed they were caused by ghosts. But others clearly didn’t. Mayor Gherkin, for instance. No, he had a different angle, one that regarded Jeremy’s investigation as a wager of sorts. If Jeremy Marsh couldn’t find the cause, it would be good for the town’s economy, and that’s what the mayor was betting on. After all, Mayor Gherkin knew something that only a few others knew.People had been studying the mystery for years. Not just the students from Duke. Aside from the local historian—who seemed to have fathomed a plausible explanation, in Lexie’s opinion—at least two other outside groups or individuals had investigated the claim in the past without success. Mayor Gherkin had actually invited the students from Duke to pay the cemetery a visit, in the hope that they wouldn’t figure it out, either. And sure enough, tourist traffic had been picking up ever since.She supposed she could have mentioned that to Mr. Marsh yesterday. But since he hadn’t asked, she hadn’t offered. She was too busy trying to ward off his advances and make it clear she wasn’t interested in him. Oh, he’d tried to be charming . . . well, okay, he was sort of charming in his own way, but that didn’t change the fact that she had no intention of letting her emotions get the better of her. She’d even been sort of relieved when he left last night.And then Doris made that ridiculous comment, which essentially meant that she thought Lexie should get to know him better. But what really burned her was that she knew Doris wouldn’t have said anything unless she was certain. For whatever reason, she saw something special in Jeremy.Sometimes she hated Doris’s premonitions.Of course, she didn’t have to listen to Doris. After all, she’d already done the “visiting stranger” thing, and she wasn’t about to go down that road again. Despite her resolution, she had to admit that the whole thing left her feeling a little off-balance. As she pondered it, she heard her office door open with a squeak.“Good morning,” Jeremy said, poking his head in. “I thought I saw a light on in here.”Swiveling in her chair, she noticed he’d draped his jacket over his shoulder.“Hey there.” She nodded politely. “I was just trying to get caught up on some work.”He held up his jacket. “Do you have a place I can put this? There’s not much room at the desk in the rare-book room.”“Here, I’ll take it. The coat hanger’s behind the door.”Entering the office, he handed Lexie the jacket. She hung it next to hers on the rack behind the door. Jeremy looked around the office.“So this is mission control, huh? Where it all happens?”“This is it,” she confirmed. “It’s not too roomy, but it’s enough to get the job done.”“I like your filing system,” he said, gesturing at the piles of paperwork on the desk. “I’ve got one just like it at home.”A smile escaped her lips as he took a step toward her desk and peeked out the window.“Nice view, too. Why, you can see all the way to the next house. And the parking lot, too.”“Well, you seem to be in a spunky mood this morning.”“How can I not be? I slept in a freezing room filled with dead animals. Or rather, barely slept at all. I kept hearing all these strange noises coming from the woods.”“I wondered how you’d like Greenleaf. I hear it’s rustic.”“The word ‘rustic’ doesn’t quite do the place justice. And then this morning. Half the town was at breakfast.”“I take it you went to Herbs,” she remarked.“I did,” he said. “I noticed you weren’t there.”“No. It’s too busy. I like a little quiet time to start the day.”“You should have warned me.”She smiled. “You should have asked.”He laughed, and Lexie motioned toward the door with her hand.Walking to the rare-book room with him, she sensed he was in a good mood despite his exhaustion, but it still wasn’t enough to make her trust him.“Would you happen to know a Deputy Hopper?” he asked.She looked over in surprise. “Rodney?”“I think that was his name. What’s his deal, anyway? He seemed a little perturbed by my presence here in town.”“Oh, he’s harmless.”“He didn’t seem harmless.”She shrugged. “He probably heard that you’d be spending time at the library. He’s kind of protective when it comes to things like that. He’s been sweet on me for years.”“Put in a good word for me, will you?”“I suppose I could do that.”Half expecting another witty comeback, he raised his eyebrow in pleasant surprise.“Thanks,” he said.“No problem. Just don’t do anything to make me take it back.”They continued in silence to the rare-book room. She led the way inside, flicking on the light.“I’ve been thinking about your project, and there’s something you should probably know.”“What’s that?”She told him about the two previous investigations into the cemetery before adding, “If you give me a few minutes, I can dig them up for you.”“I’d appreciate that,” he said. “But why didn’t you mention them yesterday?”She smiled without answering.“Let me guess,” he said. “Because I didn’t ask?”“I’m only a librarian, not a mind reader.”“Like your grandmother? Oh, wait, she’s a diviner, right?”“Actually, she is. And she can tell the sex of babies before they’re born, too.”“So I’ve heard,” Jeremy said.Her eyes flashed. “It’s true, Jeremy. Whether or not you want to believe it, she can do those things.”He grinned at her. “Did you just call me Jeremy?”“Yes. But don’t make a big deal out of it. You did ask me to, remember?”“I remember,” he said, “Lexie.”“Don’t push it,” she said, but even as she spoke, Jeremy noticed that she held his gaze just a little longer than usual, and he liked that.He liked that a lot.

[Dalyia]

True BelieverSevenJeremy spent the rest of the morning hunched over a stack of books and the two articles Lexie had found. The first, written in 1958 by a folklore professor at the University of North Carolina and published in the Journal of the South, seemed to have been intended as a response to A. J. Morrison’s account of the legend. The article pulled a few quotes from Morrison’s work, summarized the legend, and recounted the professor’s stay in the cemetery over a one-week period. On four of those evenings, he witnessed the lights. He seemed to have made at least a preliminary attempt to find the cause: he counted the number of homes in the surrounding area (there were eighteen within one mile of the cemetery and, interestingly, none on Riker’s Hill), and also noted the number of cars that passed within two minutes of the lights’ appearance. In two instances, the span of time was less than a minute. In the other two instances, however, there were no passing cars at all, which seemed to eliminate the possibility that headlights were the source of the “ghosts.”The second article was only a bit more informative. Published in a 1969 issue of Coastal Carolina, a small magazine that went belly-up in 1980, the article reported the fact that the cemetery was sinking and the damage that had been caused as a result. The author also mentioned the legend and the proximity of Riker’s Hill, and while he hadn’t seen the lights (he’d visited during the summer months), he drew heavily on eyewitness accounts before speculating on a number of possibilities, all of which Jeremy was already aware.The first was rotting vegetation that sometimes bursts into flames, giving off vapors known as swamp gas. In a coastal area like this, Jeremy knew the idea couldn’t be completely discounted, though he did think it unlikely, since the lights occurred on cold and foggy nights. They could also be “earthquake lights,” which are electrical atmospheric charges generated by the shifting and grinding of rocks deep below the earth’s crust. The automobile headlights theory was again advanced, as was the idea of refracted starlight and fox fire, which is a phosphorescent glow emitted by certain fungi on rotting wood. Algae, it was noted, could also glow phosphorescently. The author even mentioned the possibility of the Novaya Zemlya effect, in which light beams are bent by adjacent layers of air at different temperatures, thus seeming to glow. And, in offering a final possibility, the author concluded that it might be St. Elmo’s fire, which is created by electrical discharges from sharp-pointed objects that occur during thunderstorms.In other words, the author had said it could be anything.However inconclusive, the articles did help Jeremy clarify his own thoughts. In his opinion, the lights had everything to do with geography. The hill behind the cemetery seemed to be the highest point in any direction, and the sinking cemetery made the fog more dense in that particular area. All of which meant refracted or reflected light.He just had to pinpoint the source, and for that, he needed to find the first time the lights had ever been noted. Not something general, but an actual date, so he could then determine what was happening in the town at that time. If the town was undergoing a dramatic change around then—a new construction project, a new factory, or something along those lines—he just might find the cause. Or if he did see the lights—and he wasn’t counting on it—his job would be even simpler. If they occurred at midnight, for instance, and he saw no passing cars, he could then survey the area, noting the location of occupied houses with lamps blazing in the window, the proximity of the highway, or possibly even river traffic. Boats, he suspected, were a possibility, if they were large enough.Going through the stack of books a second time, he made additional notes regarding the changes in the town over the years, with special emphasis on changes around the turn of the century.As the hours rolled on, the list grew. In the early twentieth century, there was a mini–housing boom that lasted from 1907 to 1914, during which the north side of the town grew. The small port was widened in 1910, again in 1916, and once more in 1922; combined with the quarries and phosphorous mines, excavation was extensive. The railroad was started in 1898, and spurs continued to be built in various areas of the county until 1912. A trestle over the river was completed in 1904, and from 1908 to 1915 three major factories were constructed: a textile mill, a phosphorous mine, and a paper mill. Of the three, only the paper mill was still in operation—the textile mill had closed four years ago, the mine in 1987—so that seemed to eliminate the other two as possibilities.He checked his facts again, made sure they were correct, and restacked the books so Lexie could shelve them. He leaned back in his chair, stretched the stiffness from his body, and glanced at the clock. Already, it was coming up on noon. All in all, he thought it was a few hours well spent, and he glanced over his shoulder at the open door behind him.Lexie hadn’t returned to check on him. He sort of liked the fact that he couldn’t read her, and for a moment, he wished she lived in the city, or even someplace near the city. It would have been interesting to see the way things might have developed between them. A moment later, she pushed through the door.“Hey there,” Lexie greeted him. “How’s it going?”Jeremy turned. “Good. Thanks.”She slipped into her jacket. “Listen, I was thinking about running out to grab lunch, and I was wondering if you wanted me to bring you something back.”“Are you going to Herbs?” he asked.“No. If you thought breakfast was busy, you should see the place at lunch. But I’d be happy to pick up a to-go order on my way back.”He hesitated for only an instant.“Well, would it be all right if I came with you to wherever it is you’re going? I should probably stretch my legs. I’ve been sitting here all morning, and I’d love to see someplace new. Maybe you could even show me around a bit.” He paused. “If that’s okay, I mean.”She almost said no, but again, she heard Doris’s words, and her thoughts became muddled. Should I or shouldn’t I? Despite her better judgment—thank you very much for that, Doris—she said, “Sure. But I’ve only got an hour or so before I have to get back, so I don’t know how much help I can be.”He seemed almost as surprised as she did, and he stood, then followed her out the door. “Anything at all is fine,” he said. “Helps me fill in the blanks, you know. It’s important to know what goes on in a place like this.”“In our little hick town, you mean?”“I didn’t say it was a hick town. Those are your words.”“Yeah. But they’re your thoughts, not mine. I love this place.”“I’m sure,” he agreed. “Why else would you live here?”“Because it’s not New York City, for one thing.”“You’ve been there?”“I used to live in Manhattan. On West Sixty-ninth.”He almost stumbled in midstep. “That’s just a few blocks from where I live.”She smiled. “Small world, isn’t it?”Walking quickly, Jeremy struggled to keep up with her as she approached the stairs. “You’re kidding, right?”“Nope,” she said. “Lived there with my boyfriend for almost a year. He worked for Morgan Stanley while I interned in the NYU library.”“I can’t believe this . . .”“What? That I lived in New York and left? Or that I lived near you? Or that I lived with my boyfriend?”“All of it,” he said. “Or none of it. I’m not sure.” He was trying to fathom the thought of this small-town librarian living in his neighborhood. Noticing his expression, she had to laugh. “You’re all alike, you know that?” she said.“Who?”“People who live in the city. You live your life thinking that there’s no place in the world as special as New York and that no place else has anything to offer.”“You’re right,” Jeremy admitted. “But that’s only because the rest of the world pales in comparison.”Glancing over at him, she made a face that clearly telegraphed, You didn’t just say what I think you said, did you?He shrugged, acting innocent. “I mean, come on . . . Greenleaf Cottages can’t exactly compare to the Four Seasons or the Plaza, can it? I mean, even you’ve got to admit that.”She bristled at his smug attitude and began to walk even faster. She decided then and there that Doris didn’t know what she was talking about.Jeremy, however, wouldn’t let it go. “Come on . . . admit it. You know I’m right, don’t you?”By that point, they’d reached the front door of the library, and he held it open for her. Behind them, the elderly woman who worked in the lobby was watching them intently. Lexie held her tongue until she was just outside the door, then she turned on him.“People don’t live in hotels,” she snapped. “They live in communities. And that’s what we have here. A community. Where people know and care about each other. Where kids can play at night and not worry about strangers.”He raised his hands. “Hey,” he said, “don’t get me wrong. I love communities. I lived in one growing up. I knew every family in my neighborhood by name, because they’d lived there for years. Some of them still do, so believe me, I know exactly how important it is to get to know your neighbors, and how important it is for parents to know what their kids are doing and who they’re hanging out with. That’s the way it was for me. Even when I was off and about, neighbors would keep tabs on us. My point is that New York City has that, too, depending on where you live. Sure, if you live in my neighborhood, it’s filled with a lot of young career people on the move. But visit Park Slope in Brooklyn or Astoria in Queens, and you’ll see kids hanging out in the parks, playing basketball and soccer, and pretty much doing the same thing that kids are doing here.”“Like you’ve ever thought about things like that.”She regretted the sharpness in her tone the moment she lashed out at Jeremy. He, however, seemed unfazed.“I have,” he said. “And believe me, if I had kids, I wouldn’t live where I do. I have a ton of nephews and nieces who live in the city, and every one of them lives in a neighborhood with lots of other kids and people watching out for them. In many ways, it’s a lot like this place.”She said nothing, wondering if he was telling the truth.“Look,” he offered, “I’m not trying to pick a fight here. My point is simply that kids turn out okay as long as the parents are involved, no matter where they live. It’s not like small towns have a monopoly on values. I mean, I’m sure if I did some digging, I’d find lots of kids that were in trouble here, too. Kids are kids, no matter where they live.” He smiled, trying to signal that he didn’t take what she’d said personally. “And besides, I’m not exactly sure how we got on the subject of kids, anyway. From this point on, I promise not to mention it again. All I was trying to say was that I was surprised that you lived in New York and only a couple of blocks from me.” He paused. “Truce?”She stared at him before finally releasing her breath. Maybe he was right. No, she knew he was right. And, she admitted, she’d been the one who escalated the whole thing. Muddled thoughts can do that to a person. What on earth was she getting herself into here?“Truce,” she finally agreed. “On one condition.”“What’s that?”“You have to do the driving. I didn’t bring a car.”He looked relieved. “Let me find my keys.”Neither was particularly hungry, so Lexie directed Jeremy to a small grocery store, and they emerged a few minutes later with a box of crackers, some fresh fruit, various kinds of cheese, and two bottles of Snapple.In the car, Lexie set the food at her feet. “Is there anything in particular you’d like to see?” Lexie asked.“Riker’s Hill. Is there a road that leads to the top?”She nodded. “It’s not much of a road. It was originally used for logging, but now it’s mainly deer hunters. It’s rough, though—I don’t know if you want to bring your car up there.”“No big deal. It’s a rental. And besides, I’m getting used to bad roads around here.”“Okay,” she said, “but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”Neither said much as they headed out of town, past Cedar Creek Cemetery and over a small bridge. The road was soon lined with ever-thickening groves of trees on both sides. The blue sky had given way to an expanse of gray, reminding Jeremy of winter afternoons much farther north. Occasionally, flocks of starlings broke into flight as the car passed, moving in unison as if tethered together by string.Lexie was uneasy in the silence, and so she began describing the area: real estate projects that had never come to fruition, the names of trees, Cedar Creek when it could be seen through the thicket. Riker’s Hill loomed off to the left, looking gloomy and forbidding in the muted light.Jeremy had driven this way after leaving the cemetery the first time and had turned around about here. It had been just a minute or so too soon, he learned, because she told him to turn at the next intersection, which seemed to loop around toward the rear of Riker’s Hill. Leaning forward in her seat, she peered out the windshield.“The turn is just up ahead,” she said. “You might want to slow down.”Jeremy did, and as she continued to stare, he glanced over at her, noting the slight indentation of a frown line between her eyebrows.“Okay . . . there,” she said, pointing.She was right: it wasn’t much of a road. Gravel and rutted, kind of like the entrance to Greenleaf, but worse. Exiting the main road, the car began to lurch and bounce. Jeremy slowed even more.“Is Riker’s Hill state property?”She nodded. “The state bought it from one of the big timber companies—Weyerhaeuser or Georgia-Pacific or something like that—when I was a little girl. Part of our local history, you know. But it’s not a park or anything. I think there were plans to make it into a campground at one time or another, but the state’s never gotten around to it.”Loblolly pines closed in as the road narrowed, but the road itself seemed to improve as they moved higher, following an almost zigzag pattern to the top. Every now and then, a trail could be spotted, which he assumed was used by hunters.In time, the trees began to thin and the sky became more noticeable; as they neared the crest, the vegetation looked more weathered, then almost devastated. Dozens of trees had snapped in half; less than a third still seemed to be standing upright. The incline grew less steep, then flattened out as they neared the top. Jeremy pulled over to the side. Lexie motioned for him to turn off the engine, and they stepped out of the car.Lexie crossed her arms as they walked. The air seemed colder up here, the breeze wintry and stinging. The sky seemed closer as well; clouds were no longer featureless, but twisting and curling into distinctive shapes. Down below, they could see the town, rooftops clustered together and perched along straight roads, one of which led to Cedar Creek Cemetery. Just beyond the town, the ancient, brackish river looked like flowing iron. He spotted both the highway bridge and a picturesque railroad trestle that rose high behind it as a red-tailed hawk circled overhead. Looking closely, Jeremy could just make out the tiny shape of the library and could even spot where Greenleaf was, though the cottages were lost in their surroundings.“The view is amazing,” he finally said.Lexie pointed toward the edge of town and helped him zero in on where to look. “See that little house over there? Kind of off to the side, near the pond? That’s where I live now. And over there? That’s Doris’s place. It’s where I grew up. Sometimes when I was little, I’d stare toward the hill imagining that I could see myself staring down from up here.”He smiled. The breeze tossed her hair as she went on.“As teenagers, my friends and I would sometimes come up here, and we’d stay for hours. During the summer, the heat makes the house lights twinkle, almost like stars. And the lightning bugs— well, there are so many in June that it almost looks like there’s another town in the sky. Even though everyone knew about this place, it wasn’t ever too crowded up here. It was always like a secret place that my friends and I could share.”She paused, realizing that she felt strangely nervous. Though why she should be nervous was beyond her.“I remember this one time when a big thunderstorm was expected. My friends and I got one of the boys to drive us up here in his truck. You know, one of those big-tired things that could make it down the Grand Canyon, if need be. So we all came up here to watch the lightning, expecting to see it flickering in the sky. We didn’t stop to consider that we’d put ourselves at the highest spot in any direction. When the lightning started, it was beautiful at first. It would light up the sky, sometimes with a jagged flash, other times almost like a strobe light, and we’d count out loud until the thunder boomed. You know, to see how far away the lightning was. But the next thing we knew, the storm was on us. I mean, the wind was blowing so hard that the truck was actually rocking, and the rain made it impossible to see anything. Then the lightning started striking the trees around us. Gigantic bolts came down from the sky so close that the ground would tremble, and then the tops of pines would just explode into sparks.”As she spoke, Jeremy studied her. It was the most she’d said about herself since they’d met, and he tried to imagine what her life was like back then. Who was she in high school? One of the popular cheerleaders? Or one of the bookish girls, who spent her lunches in the library? Granted, it was ancient history—I mean, who cared about high school?—but even now, when she was lost in the memories, he wasn’t quite able to put his finger on who she’d been.“I’ll bet you were terrified,” he said. “Lightning bolts can reach fifty thousand degrees, you know.” He glanced at her. “That’s ten times hotter than the surface of the sun.”She smiled, amused. “I didn’t know that. But you’re right—I don’t think I’ve ever been so terrified in my entire life.”“So what happened?”“The storm passed as they always do. And once we collected ourselves, we drove back home. But I remember Rachel was holding my hand so hard that she left fingernail marks in my skin.”“Rachel? That wouldn’t happen to be the waitress at Herbs, would it?”“Yeah, that’s the one.” Crossing her arms, she looked over at him. “Why? Did she put the move on you at breakfast this morning?”He shifted from one foot to the other. “Well, I wouldn’t call it that. She just seemed a little . . . forward is all.”Lexie laughed. “It doesn’t surprise me. She’s . . . well, she’s Rachel. She and I were best friends growing up, and I still think of her as a sister of sorts. I suppose I always will. But after I went off to college and New York . . . well, it wasn’t the same after I got back. It just changed, for lack of a better word. Don’t get me wrong— she’s a sweet girl and she’s a lot of fun to spend time with and she hasn’t got a mean bone in her body, but . . .”She trailed off. Jeremy looked at her closely.“You see the world differently these days?” he suggested.She sighed. “Yeah, I suppose that’s it.”“I think it happens to everyone as they grow up,” Jeremy responded. “You find out who you are and what you want, and then you realize that people you’ve known forever don’t see things the way you do. And so you keep the wonderful memories, but find yourself moving on. It’s perfectly normal.”“I know. But in a town this size, it’s a little harder to do. There are only so many people in their thirties here, and even fewer who are still single. It’s kind of a small world down here.”He nodded before breaking into a smile. “Thirties?”She suddenly remembered that he’d been trying to guess her age yesterday.“Yep,” she said with a shrug. “Getting old, I guess.”“Or staying young,” he countered. “That’s how I think of myself, by the way. Whenever I get worried about aging, I just start wearing my pants lower, flash the waistband of my boxers, wear my ball cap backward, and walk around the mall listening to rap.”She gave an involuntary giggle at the image. Despite the chill in the air, she felt warm with the recognition, unexpected and yet strangely inevitable, that she was enjoying his company. She wasn’t sure she liked him yet—in fact, she was pretty sure she didn’t—and for a moment, she struggled to reconcile the two feelings. Which meant, of course, that the whole subject should best be avoided. She brought a finger to her chin. “Yes, I can see that. You do seem to regard personal style as important.”“Without a doubt. Why, just yesterday, in fact, people were particularly impressed with my wardrobe, including you.”She laughed, and in the ensuing silence, she glanced at him. “I’ll bet you travel a lot for your job, don’t you?” she asked.“Maybe four or five trips a year, each lasting a couple of weeks.”“Have you ever been in a town like this?”“No,” he said, “not really. Every place I go has its own charms, but I can say with all honesty that I’ve never been to a place like this. How about you? Other than New York, I mean.”“I’ve been to UNC, in Chapel Hill, and spent a lot of time in Raleigh. And I’ve been to Charlotte, too, when I was in high school. Our football team made the state championship my senior year, so pretty much everyone in town made the road trip. Our convoy stretched four miles down the highway. And Washington, D.C., on a field trip when I was little. But I’ve never been overseas or anything like that.”Even as she spoke, she knew how small her life would seem to him. Jeremy, as if reading her mind, flashed a hint of a smile.“You’d like Europe. The cathedrals, the gorgeous countryside, the bistros and city squares. The relaxed lifestyle . . . you’d fit right in.”Lexie dipped her eyes. It was a nice thought, but . . .And that was the thing. The but. There was always a but. Life had a nasty tendency to make exotic opportunities few and far between. It simply wasn’t a reality for most folks. Like her. It wasn’t as if she could take Doris or take off much time from the library. And why on earth was he telling her all this, anyway? To show her that he was more cosmopolitan than she was? Well, I hate to break it to you, she thought, but I already know that.And yet, even as she digested those thoughts, another voice piped in, telling her that he was trying to flatter her. He seemed to be saying that he knew she was different, more worldly, than he’d expected her to be. That she could fit in anywhere.“I’ve always wanted to travel,” she admitted, sort of hedging the conflicting voices in her head. “It must be nice, having that chance.”“It is, at times. But believe it or not, what I most enjoy is meeting new people. And when I look back on the places I’ve gone, more often than not I see faces, not things.”“Now you’re sounding like a romantic,” she said. Oh, he was difficult to resist, this Mr. Jeremy Marsh. First the ladies’ man and now the great altruist; well traveled but still grounded; worldly but still cognizant of the things that really mattered. No matter whom he met or where he was, she had no doubt that he had an innate ability to make others—especially women—feel as if he was in kinship with them. Which, of course, led directly back to her first impression of him.“Maybe I am a romantic,” he said, glancing over at her.“You know what I liked about New York?” she asked, changing the subject.He watched her expectantly.“I liked the fact that there was always something happening. There were always people hurrying down the sidewalks and cabs buzzing by, no matter what time it was. There was always someplace to go, something to see, a new restaurant to try. It was exciting, especially to someone who’d grown up here. Like going to Mars, almost.”“Why didn’t you stay?”“I suppose I could have. But it wasn’t the place for me. I guess you might say that my reason for going there at all kind of changed. I went to be with someone.”“Ah,” Jeremy said. “So you’d followed him up there?”She nodded. “We met in college. He seemed so . . . I don’t know . . . perfect, I guess. He’d grown up in Greensboro, came from a good family, was intelligent. And really handsome, too. Handsome enough to make any woman ignore her best instincts. He looked my way, and the next thing I knew I was following him up to the city. Couldn’t help myself.”Jeremy squirmed. “Is that right?”She smiled inwardly. Men never wanted to hear how handsome other men were, especially if the relationship had been serious.“Everything was great for a year or so. We were even engaged.” She seemed lost in thought before she let out a deep breath. “I took an internship at the NYU library, Avery went to work on Wall Street, and then one day I found him in bed with one of his co-workers. It kind of made me realize that he wasn’t the right guy, so I packed up that night and came back here. After that, I never saw him again.”The breeze picked up, sounding almost like a whistle as it rushed up the slopes, and smelling faintly of the earth.“Are you hungry?” she asked, wanting to change the subject again. “I mean, it’s nice visiting with you out here, but if I don’t get some nourishment, I tend to get grumpy.”“I’m starved,” he said.They made their way back to the car and divided up the lunch. Jeremy opened the box of crackers on the front seat. Noticing that the view wasn’t much, he started the car, maneuvered around the crest, then—angling the car just right—reparked with a view of the town again.“So you came back here and began working at the library, and . . .”“That’s it,” she said. “That’s what I’ve been doing for the last seven years.”He did the math, figuring she was about thirty-one.“Any other boyfriends since then?” he asked.With her fruit cup wedged between her legs, she broke off a piece of cheese and put it on a cracker. She wondered if she should answer, then decided, What the hell, he’s leaving, anyway.“Oh, sure. There were a few here and there.” She told him about the lawyer, the doctor,

[Dalyia]

and—lately—Rodney Hopper. She didn’t mention Mr. Renaissance.“Well . . . good. You sound like you’re happy,” he said.“I am,” she was quick to agree. “Aren’t you?”“Most of the time. Every now and then, I go nuts, but I think that’s normal.”“And that’s when you start wearing your pants low?”“Exactly,” he said with a smile. He grabbed a handful of crackers, balanced a couple on his leg, and began stacking some cheese. He glanced up, looking serious. “Would you mind if I asked a personal question? You don’t have to answer, of course. I won’t take it the wrong way, believe me. I’m just curious.”“You mean, more personal than telling you about my previous boyfriends?”He gave a sheepish shrug, and she had a sudden vision of what he must have looked like as a small boy: a narrow, unlined face, bangs cut straight, shirt and jeans dirty from playing outside.“Go ahead,” she said. “Ask away.”He focused on the lid of his fruit cup as he spoke, suddenly reluctant to meet her gaze. “When we first got here, you pointed out your grandmother’s house. And you said you’d grown up there.”She nodded. She’d wondered when he would ask about that.“I did,” she said.“Why?”She looked out the window; habit made her search out the highway that led out of town. When she spotted it, she spoke slowly.“My parents were coming back from Buxton, out on the Outer Banks. That was where they got married, and they owned a small beach cottage there. It’s kind of hard to get to from here, but my mom swore that it was the most beautiful place in the world, so my dad bought a small boat so they wouldn’t have to use the ferry to get there. It was their little escape, the two of them sneaking away, you know. There’s a beautiful lighthouse that you can see from the porch, and every now and then, I head out there, too, just like they used to, just to get away from it all.”Her lips formed the tiniest of half-smiles before she went on. “But anyway, on their way back that night, my parents were tired. It still takes a couple of hours to get there even without the ferry, and the best guess is that on the way home, my dad fell asleep at the wheel and the car went off the bridge. By the time the police found the car and dredged it out the following morning, they were both dead.”Jeremy was quiet for a long moment. “That’s terrible,” he finally said. “How old were you?”“Two. I was staying with Doris that night, and the next day, she headed off to the hospital with my granddad. When they got back, they told me that I’d be living with them from now on. And so I did. But it’s strange; I mean, I know what happened, but it’s never seemed particularly real. I didn’t feel like I was missing anything when I was growing up. To me, my grandparents seemed like everyone else’s parents, except that I called them by their first names.” She smiled. “That was their idea, by the way. I guess they didn’t want me to think of them as grandparents anymore since they were raising me, but they weren’t my parents, either.”When she finished, she looked over at him, noticing the way his shoulders seemed to fill out his sweater, and eyeing that dimple again.“Now it’s my turn to ask questions,” she said. “I’ve talked too much, and I know that my life must be boring compared to yours. Not so much about my parents, of course, but living here, I mean.”“No, it’s not boring at all. It’s interesting. Kind of like . . . reading a new book when you turn the pages and experience something unexpected.”“Nice metaphor.”“I thought you might appreciate that.”“So what about you? What made you want to become a journalist?”For the next few minutes, he told her about his college years, his plans to become a professor, and the turn of events that had brought him to this point.“And you said that you have five brothers?”He nodded. “Five older brothers. I’m the baby of the family.”“For some reason, I just can’t see you with brothers.”“Why?”“You strike me as more the only-child type.”He shook his head. “It’s a shame you didn’t inherit the psychic abilities of the rest of your family.”She smiled before glancing away. In the distance, red-tailed hawks circled above the town. She put her hand to the window, feeling the cold press of glass against her skin. “Two hundred forty-seven,” she said.He looked over at her. “Excuse me?”“That’s how many women visited Doris to find out the sex of their babies. Growing up, I’d see them sitting in the kitchen visiting with my grandmother. And it’s funny, even now I can remember thinking that they all had this look about them: the sparkle in their eyes, the fresh glow to their skin, and their genuine excitement. There is truth to the old wives’ tale that women who are pregnant glow, and I remember thinking that I wanted to look just like them when I grew up. Doris would talk to them for a while to make sure they were sure they wanted to know, and then she’d take their hand and get really quiet all of a sudden.Hardly any of them were even showing, and a few seconds after that, she’d make her pronouncement.” Lexie let out a soft breath. “She was right every time. Two hundred forty-seven women came by, and she was right two hundred and forty-seven times. Doris kept their names in a book and wrote everything down, including the dates of the visits. You can check it out if you’d like. She still has the book in her kitchen.”Jeremy simply stared at her. Impossible, he thought, a statistical fluke. One that pressed the limits of believability, but a fluke nonetheless. And her notebook, no doubt, would only show the guesses that had been right.“I know what you’re thinking,” she said, “but you can check it out with the hospital, too. Or the women. And you can ask anyone you want, to see if she was ever mistaken. But she wasn’t. Even the doctors around town will tell you straight up that she had a gift.”“Did you ever think that maybe she knew someone who did the ultrasounds?”“That wasn’t it,” she insisted.“How can you know for sure?”“Because that’s when she stopped. When the technology finally arrived in town. There was no reason for people to come to her anymore, once they could see the picture of the baby themselves. The women visitors began slowing after that, then turned into a trickle. Now it’s maybe one or two people a year, usually folks from out in the country who don’t have medical insurance. I guess you could say her abilities aren’t in too much demand these days.”“And the divining?”“Same thing,” she said. “There isn’t much demand around here for someone with her skills. The entire eastern section of the state sits over a vast reservoir. You can sink a well anywhere and find water around here. But when she was growing up in Cobb County, Georgia, farmers would come to the house begging for her help, especially during the droughts. And even though shewasn’t more than eight or nine, she’d find the water every time.”“Interesting,” Jeremy said.“I take it you still don’t believe it.”He shifted in his seat. “There’s an explanation somewhere. There always is.”“You don’t believe in magic of any kind?”“No,” he said.“That’s sad,” she said. “Because sometimes it’s real.”He smiled. “Well, maybe I’ll find something that changes my mind while I’m down here.”She smiled, too. “You already have. You’re just too stubborn to believe it.”After finishing their makeshift lunch, Jeremy slid the car into gear, and they bounced back down Riker’s Hill, the front wheels seemingly drawn to every deep rut. The shocks squeaked and groaned, and by the time they reached the bottom, Jeremy’s knuckles were white on the wheel.They followed the same roads back. Passing Cedar Creek Cemetery, Jeremy found his eyes drawn to the top of Riker’s Hill; despite the distance, he could pick out the spot where they’d parked.“Do we have time to see a couple of other places? I’d love to swing by the marina, the paper mill, and maybe the railroad trestle.”“We have time,” she said. “As long as we don’t stay too long. They’re pretty much all in the same area.”Ten minutes later, following her directions, he parked again. They were at the far edge of downtown, a few blocks from Herbs, near the boardwalk that stretched along the riverfront. The Pamlico River was nearly a mile wide and flowed angrily, the currents rippling to form tiny whitecaps as they rushed downstream. On the far side of the river, near the railroad trestle, the paper mill— a huge structure—spewed clouds from the dueling smokestacks.Jeremy stretched as he stepped out of the car, and Lexie crossedher arms. Her cheeks began to redden in the chill.“Is it getting colder, or is it just my imagination?” she asked.“It’s pretty cold,” he agreed. “Seems colder than it was up top, but maybe we just got used to the heater in the car.”Jeremy struggled to catch up to her as she set off for the boardwalk. Lexie finally slowed and then stopped to lean against the railing as Jeremy gazed up at the railroad trestle. Perched high above the river to let large boats pass, it was crisscrossed with beams, resembling a suspension bridge.“I didn’t know how close you wanted to get,” she said. “If we had more time, I would have taken you across the river to the mill, but you probably get a better view from here.” She motioned toward the other end of town. “The marina is over there, near the highway. Can you see where all those sailboats are docked?”Jeremy nodded. For some reason, he’d expected something grander.“Can big boats dock there?”“I think so. Some big yachts from New Bern sometimes stop over for a couple of days.”“How about barges?”“I suppose they could. The river is dredged to allow for some of the logging barges, but they usually stop on the far side. Over there”—she pointed to what seemed to be a small cove—“you can see a couple there now, all loaded up.”He followed her gaze, then turned around, coordinating locations. With Riker’s Hill in the distance, the trestle and the factory seemed perfectly aligned. Coincidence? Or completely unimportant? He stared in the direction of the paper mill, trying to figure out whether the tops of the smokestacks were lit at night. He’d have to check on that.“Do they ship all the logs by barge, or do you know if they use the railroad, too?”“I’ve never noticed, to tell you the truth. I’m sure it would be easy to find out, though.”“Do you know how many trains use the trestle?”“Again, I’m not sure. Sometimes I hear the whistle at night, and I’ve had to stop more than once in town at the crossing to let the train pass, but it’s not as if I could tell you for certain. I do know they make a lot of shipments from the mill, though. That’s where the train actually stops.”Jeremy nodded as he stared at the trestle.Lexie smiled and went on. “I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking that maybe the light from the train shines as it goes over the trestle and that’s what’s causing the lights, right?”“It did cross my mind.”“That’s not it,” she said, shaking her head.“You’re sure?”“At night, the trains pull into the yard at the paper mill so they can be loaded the following day. So the light on the locomotive is shining in the opposite direction, away from Riker’s Hill.”He considered that as he joined her at the railing. The wind whipped her hair, making it look wild. She tucked her hands into her jacket pockets.“I can see why you liked growing up here,” he commented.She turned so that she could lean back against the railing, and stared toward the downtown area—the neat little shops festooned with American flags, a barbershop pole, a small park nestled at the edge of the boardwalk. On the sidewalk, passersby moved in and out of the establishments, carrying bags. Despite the chill, no one seemed to be rushing at all.“Well, it is a lot like New York, I have to admit.”He laughed. “That’s not what I meant. I meant that my parents probably would have loved to raise their kids in a place like this. With big green lawns and forests to play in. Even a river where you could go swimming when it gets hot. It must have been . . .idyllic.”“It still is. And that’s what people say about living here.”“You seem to have thrived here.”For an instant, she seemed almost sad. “Yeah, but I went off to college. A lot of people around here never do. It’s a poor county, and the town has been struggling ever since the textile mill and phosphorous mine closed, and a lot of parents don’t put much stock into getting a good education. That’s what’s hard sometimes—trying to convince some kids that there’s more to life than working in the paper mill across the river. I live here because I want to live here. I made the choice. But for a lot of these people, they simply stay because it’s impossible for them to leave.”“That happens everywhere. None of my brothers went to college, either, so I was sort of the oddball, in that learning came easy for me. My parents are working-class folks and lived in Queens their whole life. My dad was a bus driver for the city. Spent forty years of his life sitting behind the wheel until he finally retired.”She seemed amused. “That’s funny. Yesterday I had you pegged as an Upper East Sider. You know, doorman greeting you by name, prep schools, five-course meals for dinner, a butler who announces guests.”He recoiled in mock horror. “First an only child and now this? I’m beginning to think that you perceive me as spoiled.”“No, not spoiled . . . just . . .”“Don’t say it,” he said, raising his hand. “I’d rather not know. Especially since it isn’t true.”“How do you know what I was going to say?”“Because you’re currently oh for two, and neither was particularly flattering.”The corners of her mouth turned up slightly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”“Yes, you did,” he said with a grin. He turned around and leaned his back against the rail as well. The breeze stung his face. “But don’t worry, I won’t take it personally. Since I’m not some spoiled rich kid, I mean.”“No. You’re an objective journalist.”“Exactly.”“Even though you refuse to have an open mind about anything mysterious.”“Exactly.”She laughed. “What about the supposed mysteriousness of women? Don’t you believe in that?”“Oh, I know that’s true,” he said, thinking of her in particular. “But it’s different than believing the possibility of cold fusion.”“Why?”“Because women are a subjective mystery, not an objective one. You can’t measure anything about them scientifically, although, of course, there are genetic differences between the genders. Women only strike men as being mysterious because they don’t realize that men and women see the world differently.”“They do, huh?”“Sure. It goes back to evolution and the best ways to preserve the species.”“And you’re an expert on that?”“I have a bit of knowledge in that area, yes.”“And so you consider yourself an expert on women, too?”“No, not really. I’m shy, remember?”“Uh-huh, I remember. I just don’t believe it.”He crossed his arms. “Let me guess . . . you think I have a problem with commitment?”She looked him over. “I think that about sums it up.”He laughed. “What can I say? Investigative journalism is a glamorous world, and there are legions of women who yearn to be part of it.”She rolled her eyes. “Puh-lease,” she said. “It’s not like you’re a movie star or sing in a rock band. You write for Scientific American.”“And?”“Well, I may be from the South, but even so, I can’t imagine your magazine is deluged with groupies.”He gazed at her triumphantly. “I think you just contradicted yourself.”She raised an eyebrow. “You think you’re very clever, Mr. Marsh, don’t you?”“Oh, so we’re back to ‘Mr. Marsh’ now?”“Maybe. I haven’t decided yet.” She tucked a blowing strand of hair behind her ear. “But you missed the fact that you don’t have to have groupies to . . . get around. All you need is to hang out in the right kind of places and pour on the charm.”“And you think I’m charming?”“I would say some women would find you charming.”“But not you.”“We’re not talking about me. We’re talking about you, and right now you’re doing your best to change the subject. Which probably means that I’m right but that you don’t want to admit it.”He stared at her admiringly. “You’re very clever, Ms. Darnell.”She nodded. “I’ve heard that.”“And charming,” he added for good measure.She smiled at him, then glanced away. She looked down the boardwalk, then across the street toward the town, then up at the sky before she sighed. She wasn’t going to respond to his flattery, she decided. Nonetheless, she felt herself blushing.As if reading her mind, Jeremy changed the subject. “So this weekend,” he started. “What’s it like?”“Won’t you be here?” she asked.“Probably. For part of it, anyway. But I was just curious how you felt about it.”“Aside from making a lot of people’s lives crazy for a few days?” she asked. “It’s . . . needed at this time of year. You go through Thanksgiving and Christmas in a rush, and then nothing is on the schedule until spring. And meanwhile, it’s cold and gray and rainy . . . so years ago, the town council decided to do the Historic Homes Tour. And ever since then, they’ve just added more festivities to it in the hope of making for a special weekend. This year it’s the cemetery, last year the parade, the year before that, they added a Friday night barn dance. Now it’s becoming part of the tradition of the town, so most of the folks who live here look forward to it.” She glanced at him. “As small-town forgettable as it sounds, it’s actually sort of fun.”Watching her, Jeremy raised his eyebrows, remembering the barn dance from the brochure. “They have a dance?” he asked, feigning ignorance.She nodded. “On Friday night. In Meyer’s tobacco barn downtown. It’s quite the shindig, with a live band and everything. It’s the only night of the year that the Lookilu Tavern is pretty much empty.”“Well, if I happen to go, maybe you’ll dance with me.”She smiled before finally eyeing him with an almost seductive look. “I’ll tell you what. If you solve the mystery by then, I’ll dance with you.”“You promise?”“I promise,” she said. “But our deal is that you have to solve the mystery first.”“Fair enough,” he said. “I can’t wait. And when it comes to the Lindy or the fox-trot . . .” He shook his head, drawing a long breath. “Well, all I can say is that I hope you can keep up.”She laughed. “I’ll do my best.”Crossing her arms, Lexie watched the sun trying and failing to break through the gloom. “Tonight,” she said.He frowned. “Tonight?”“You’ll see the lights tonight. If you go to the cemetery.”“How do you know?”“The fog is coming in.”He followed her gaze. “How can you tell? It doesn’t seem any different to me.”“Look across the river behind me,” she said. “The tops of the smokestacks on the paper mill are already hidden by clouds.”“Yeah, sure . . . ,” he said, trailing off.“Turn around and look. You’ll see.”He looked over his shoulder and back, then looked once more, studying the outlines of the paper mill. “You’re right,” he said.“Of course, I am.”“I guess you peeked when I wasn’t looking, huh?”“No,” she said. “I just knew.”“Ah,” he said. “One of those pesky mysteries again?”She pushed herself from the railing. “If that’s what you want to call it,” she said. “But c’mon. It’s getting a little late, and I have to get back to the library. I have to read to the children in fifteen minutes.”As they made their way back to the car, Jeremy noticed that the top of Riker’s Hill had become hidden as well. He smiled, thinking, So that’s how she did it. See it over there, figure it must be happening across the river, too. Tricky.“Well, tell me,” he said, doing his best to hide his smirk, “since you seem to have hidden talents, how can you be so sure the lights will be out tonight?”It took a moment for her to answer.“I just am,” she said.“Well, I guess it’s settled, then. I should probably head out there, shouldn’t I?” As soon as he spoke the words, he remembered the dinner he was supposed to attend and he suddenly winced.“What?” she asked, puzzled.“Oh, the mayor is setting up a dinner with a few people he thought I should meet,” he said. “A little get-together or something.”“For you?”He smiled. “What? You’re impressed by that?”“No, just surprised.”“Why?”“Because I hadn’t heard about it.”“I only found out this morning.”“Still, it’s surprising. But I wouldn’t worry about not seeing the lights, even if you do go to dinner with the mayor. The lights don’t usually come out until late, anyway. You’ll have plenty of time.”“Are you sure?”“That’s when I saw them. It was a little before midnight.”He stopped in his tracks. “Wait—you’ve seen them? You didn’t mention that.”She smiled. “You didn’t ask.”“You keep saying that.”“Well, Mr. Journalist, that’s only because you keep forgetting to ask.”

[Dalyia]

True BelieverEightAcross town at Herbs, Deputy Rodney Hopper was stewing over his cup of coffee, wondering where on earth Lexie and that . . . city boy had gone off to.He’d wanted to surprise Lexie at the library and take her out to lunch so City Boy would know exactly where things stood. Maybe she would have even let him escort her to the car while City Boy watched with envy.Oh, he knew exactly what City Boy saw in Lexie. And he had to be seeing it. Hell, it was impossible not to notice, Rodney thought. She was the prettiest woman in the county, probably the state. Maybe even the whole wide world, for that matter.Usually, he wouldn’t have worried about any guy doing research at the library, and he wasn’t worried when he first heard about it. But then he started hearing all those folks whispering about the new stranger in town, so he’d wanted to check it out. And they were right: all it took was one look at City Boy to figure out that he had that city look about him. People who researched at the library were supposed to be older and look like absentminded professors, complete with reading glasses, poor posture, and coffee breath. But not this guy; no, this guy looked like he’d just strolled out of Della’s Beauty Parlor. But even that wouldn’t have bothered him so much except for the fact that right now they were off gallivanting around town, just the two of them.Rodney scowled. Just where were they, anyway?Not at Herbs. And not at Pike’s Diner, either. No, he’d scanned their parking lots and come up empty. He supposed he could have gone in and asked around, but word would probably have spread, and he wasn’t sure that would have been such a good idea. All his buddies teased him about Lexie as it was, especially whenever he mentioned that they were going out on a date again. They’d tell him to get over her, that she was just spending time with him to be nice, but he knew better. She always said yes when he asked, didn’t she? He thought about it. Well, most of the time, anyway. She never kissed him afterward, but that was beside the point. He was patient and the time was coming. Every time they went out, they edged a little closer to something more serious. He knew it. He could feel it. His buddies, he knew, were just jealous.He’d hoped that Doris would have some insight, but it just so happened that she wasn’t around, either. Off at the accountant’s, they said, but she’d be back in a little while. Which, of course, didn’t help him at all, since his lunch break was almost over, and he couldn’t exactly wait around for her. And besides, she’d probably deny knowing anything about it. He’d heard she actually liked City Boy, and well . . . wasn’t that special?“Scuse me, darlin’?” Rachel said. “You okay?”Rodney looked up and saw her standing at the table with the coffeepot.“Nothing, Rachel,” he said. “Just one of those days.”“Bad guys getting you down again?”Rodney nodded. “You could say that.”She smiled, looking pretty, though Rodney didn’t seem to notice. He’d long since come to view her as something of a sister.“Well, it’ll get better,” she reassured him.He nodded. “You’re probably right.”Her lips went together. Sometimes she worried about Rodney.“Are you sure you can’t squeeze in a quick bite to eat? I know you’re in a hurry and I can tell ’em to make it quick.”“No. I’m not all that hungry. And I’ve got some protein powder in the car for later. I’ll be fine.” He extended his cup. “A refill might be nice, though.”“You got it,” she said, pouring.“Hey, would you happen to have noticed whether Lexie came through here? Maybe for a to-go order?”She shook her head. “I haven’t seen her all day. Have you checked at the library? I can call over there if it’s important.”“No, it’s not that important.”She hovered over the table, as if debating what to say next. “I saw you sitting with Jeremy Marsh this morning.”“Who?” Rodney asked, trying to appear innocent.“The journalist from New York. Don’t you remember?”“Oh, yeah. I just thought I should introduce myself.”“He’s a handsome fella, isn’t he?”“I don’t notice whether other men are handsome,” he growled.“Well, he is. I could look at him all day. I mean, that hair. Just makes me want to run my fingers through it. Everyone’s talking about him.”“Great,” Rodney mumbled, feeling worse.“He invited me to New York,” she boasted.At this, Rodney perked up, wondering if he’d heard her right. “He did?”“Well, sort of, anyway. He said I should visit, and even though he didn’t put it in so many words, I think he kind of wanted me to visit him.”“Really?” he asked. “That’s great, Rachel.”“What did you think of him?”Rodney shifted in his seat. “We didn’t really talk that much.”“Oh, you should. He’s really interesting and very smart. And that hair. Did I mention his hair?”“Yes,” Rodney said. He took another gulp of his coffee, trying to stall until he figured things out. Did he really invite Rachel to New York? Or did Rachel invite herself? He wasn’t quite sure. He could see how City Boy might find her attractive, and he was definitely the type who’d make his move on a woman, but . . . but . . . Rachel tended to exaggerate and Lexie and City Boy were out and about and nowhere to be found. Something here didn’t quite add up, did it?He began sliding from the booth. “Well, listen, if you see Lexie, tell her I stopped by, okay?”“Sure thing. You want me to put your coffee in a Styrofoam cup to go?”“No, thanks. My stomach’s feeling a little green already.”“Oh, you poor thing. I think we have some Pepto-Bismol in the back. Do you want me to get some for you?”“To be honest, Rach,” he said, puffing his chest out and trying to look official again, “I don’t think it’s going to help.”Across town, just outside the accountant’s office, Mayor Gherkinhustled to catch up to Doris.“Just the woman I wanted to see,” he called out.Doris turned to watch the mayor approach; in his red jacket and checkered pants, she couldn’t help but wonder whether the man was color-blind. More often than not, he looked ridiculous.“What can I do for you, Tom?”“Well, as you may or may not have heard, we’re arranging a special evening for our guest, Jeremy Marsh,” he said. “He’s writing a big story, you know, and . . .”Doris mentally finished the story, mouthing the words along with him.“. . . you know how important this could be for the town.”“I’ve heard,” she said. “And it’s especially good for your businesses.”“I’m thinking of the whole community here,” he said, ignoring her comment. “I’ve spent all morning trying to set things up so it’ll be just right. But I was hoping you’d be willing to help us outwith something to eat.”“You want me to be the caterer?”“Not for charity, mind you. The town would be happy to reimburse you for expenses. We’re planning to hold it at the old Lawson Plantation just outside town. I’ve already talked to the folks there, and they said that they’d be happy to let us use the premises. I figure we’d have a little get-together, and we could sort of use it as a kickoff to the Historic Homes Tour. I’ve already talked to the newspaper, and a reporter plans to swing by—”“When are you planning to have this little get-together?” she asked, cutting him off.He looked momentarily baffled by the interruption. “Well, tonight, of course . . . but like I was saying—”“Tonight?” she interrupted again. “You want me to prepare for one of your little get-togethers tonight?”“It’s for a good cause, Doris. I know it’s inconsiderate of me to drop this on you like this, but big things might be happening, and we have to move fast to take advantage of it. You and I both know you’re the only one who could handle something like this. Nothing fancy, of course. I was thinking that maybe you could do your special chicken pesto but without the sandwiches . . .”“Does Jeremy Marsh even know about this?”“Of course, he does. Why, I spoke to him about it this morning, and he seemed genuinely excited by the possibility.”“Really?” she asked, leaning back, doubting it.“And I was hoping that Lexie might come as well. You know how important she is to folks in this town.”“I doubt if she would. She hates doing these types of things any more than absolutely necessary. And this doesn’t strike me as absolutely necessary.”“You might be right. But anyway, like I was saying, I’d like to use this evening to help us kick off the weekend.”“Aren’t you forgetting that I’m against the whole idea of using the cemetery as a tourist attraction?”“Not at all,” he said. “I remember what you told me exactly. But you do want your voice heard, don’t you? If you don’t show up, there’s going to be no one there to represent your side of things.”Doris stared at Mayor Gherkin for a long moment. The man certainly knew what buttons to press. And besides, he had a point. If she didn’t go, she could imagine what Jeremy would end up writing if all he had to go on was the mayor and the town council. Tom was right: she was the only one who could handle something like this on such short notice. They both knew she’d been preparing for the tour this weekend and had plenty of food on hand in the kitchen already.“All right,” she capitulated, “I’ll take care of it. But don’t think for a second I’m going to serve all those people. It’ll be a buffet, and I’m going to sit at the tables like the rest of you.”Mayor Gherkin smiled. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Doris.”Deputy Rodney Hopper was sitting in his car across the street from the library, wondering whether or not to go inside and talk to Lexie. He could see City Boy’s car parked in the lot, which meant that they’d returned from wherever they’d gone, and he could see lights from Lexie’s office glowing through the window.He could imagine Lexie sitting at her desk reading, her legs propped up on the chair with knees bent, twirling those strands of hair as she thumbed through the pages of a book. He wanted to talk to her, but the thing was, he knew he didn’t have a good reason. He never dropped by the library just to chat because, honestly, he wasn’t all that sure that she wanted him to. She had never casually suggested that he stop by to see her, and whenever he veered the conversation in that direction, she would change the subject. On one level, it made sense, since she was supposed to be working, but at the same time, he knew that encouraging him to visit would have been another small step in the progress of their relationship.He saw a figure pass by the window, and he wondered if City Boy was in the office with her.He scowled. That would take the cake, wouldn’t it? First a lunch date—something he and Lexie had never done—and now a friendly visit at work. He scowled just thinking about it. In less than a day, City Boy had moved right in, hadn’t he? Well, maybe he’d just have to have another little talk with him about the situation. Spell things out for him, so that City Boy would understand exactly where things stood.Of course, that would mean that things with Lexie stood somewhere, and right now he wasn’t exactly sure they did. Yesterday he’d been content with the status of the relationship. Well, okay, maybe not completely content. He would have preferred things to be moving just a little faster, but that was beside the point. The point was, yesterday he knew there was no competition, but today the two of them were sitting up there, probably laughing and joking, having a grand old time. And here he was, sitting in an idling car, staring at them from the outside.Then again, maybe Lexie and City Boy weren’t in the office together. Maybe Lexie was doing . . . well, librarian stuff while City Boy was hunched in the corner, reading some moldy book. Maybe Lexie was just being friendly, since the guy was a visitor in town. He wondered about it, before deciding it made sense. Hell, everybody was going out of their way to make the guy feel welcome, right? And the mayor was leading the charge. This morning, when he had City Boy right where he wanted him, just when he was going to set the boundaries, the mayor (the mayor!) helped the guy slink away to safety. And bam! City Boy and Lexie are picking flowers and watching rainbows together.Then again, maybe not.He hated not knowing what was going on, and just as he was getting ready to head inside, his thoughts were interrupted by a tapping on the glass. It took an instant for the face to come into focus.The mayor. Mr. Interrupt at the Wrong Moment. Twice now.Rodney rolled down his window and the chill swept into the car. Mayor Gherkin leaned over, using his hands as support.“Just the man I was looking for,” Mayor Gherkin said. “I happened to be driving by, and when I saw you, I was struck by the thought that we’re going to need a representative from law enforcement this evening.”“What for?”“The little get-together, of course. For Jeremy Marsh, our distinguished visitor. Tonight at the Lawson Plantation.”Rodney blinked. “You’re kidding, right?”“No, not at all. In fact, I’ve got Gary making him up a key to the city right now.”“A key to the city,” Rodney repeated.“Of course, don’t tell anyone about that. It’s supposed to be a surprise. But since this is becoming more official, I sure would appreciate your presence tonight. It would make the evening seem a bit more . . . ceremonious. I was hoping that you’d stand by my side as I presented the key to him.”Rodney puffed his chest out just a bit, flattered. Still, there wasn’t a chance he’d even consider doing something like that. “I think that’s more my boss’s duty, don’t you?”“Well, sure. But you and I both know he’s hunting in the mountains right now. And since you’re in charge while he’s gone, it’s one of those things that falls in your lap.”“I don’t know, Tom. I’d have to call someone in to cover for me. It’s a shame, but I really don’t think I’m going to be able to make it.”“That is a shame. But I understand. Duty is duty.”Rodney breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks.”“I’m sure Lexie would love to have seen you, though.”“Lexie?”“Well, of course. She runs the library, so that makes her one of the dignitaries that will attend. Why, I was just coming by to tell her about it. But I’m sure she’ll enjoy visiting with our guest, even if you’re not there.” The mayor straightened up. “But all right, like I said, I understand.”“Wait!” Rodney said, his mind moving quickly, trying to recover. “You said it’s tonight, right?”The mayor nodded.“I don’t know what I was thinking, but I think Bruce is already scheduled, so I just might be able to work something out.”The mayor smiled. “Glad to hear it,” he said. “Now, let me head inside so I can talk to Ms. Darnell. You weren’t planning to head inside and talk to her yourself, were you? I mean, I’d be happy to wait.”“No,” Rodney said. “Just tell her I’ll see her later.”“Will do, Deputy.”After retrieving some additional information for Jeremy and making a quick stop in her office, Lexie found herself surrounded by twenty children, some nestled in their mothers’ laps. Lexie was sitting on the floor, reading her third book. The room was boisterous, as it always was. On a low table off to the side, cookies and punch had been set out; in the far corner, a few of the less engaged children were playing with some of the many toys she kept on the shelves. Still others were finger-painting on a makeshift table she’d designed. The room was decorated in bright colors— the shelves were like crayons, with no apparent theme other than vividness. Despite the protests of some of the senior volunteers and employees—who wanted children to sit quietly as they were being read to, as had always been done—Lexie wanted children to have fun in the library. She wanted them to be excited about coming, even if that required toys, games, and a room that was less than quiet. Over the years, she could remember dozens of kids who played for a year or more before discovering the joy of stories, but that was fine by her. As long as they kept coming in.But today, as she was reading, she felt her mind wandering back to the lunch she’d shared with Jeremy. Though it couldn’t be described as a date, it almost had that feeling, which made it a little disconcerting. Thinking back on it, she realized that she’d revealed far more about herself than she’d intended, and she kept trying to remember how that had happened. It wasn’t as if he’d pried. Instead, it had just happened. But why on earth was she still dwelling on it?She didn’t like to think of herself as neurotic, but this endless analysis wasn’t like her. And besides, she told herself, it hadn’t even been a date as much as a guided tour. But no matter how much she tried to stop it, Jeremy’s image kept popping up unexpectedly: the slightly crooked smile, his expression of amusement at things she said. She couldn’t help wondering what he had thought about her life here, not to mention what he’d thought about her. She’d even blushed when he said he’d found her charming. What was that all about? Maybe, she thought, it was because I spilled my guts about my past and left myself vulnerable.She made a note not to do it again. And yet . . .It hadn’t been so bad, she admitted. Just talking to someone new, someone who didn’t already know everyone and everything going on in town, was refreshing. She’d almost forgotten how special that could be. And he’d surprised her. Doris had been right, at least in part. He wasn’t what she thought he’d be. He was smarter than she’d first assumed, and even if he held his mind closed to the possibility of mystery, he made up for it by being good-humored about their differing beliefs and way of life. He poked fun at himself, too, which was also appealing.As she continued to read to the children—thank goodness, it wasn’t a complicated book—her mind refused to stop whirling.Okay, so she liked him. She admitted that. And if truth be told, she wanted to spend more time with him. But even that realization didn’t change the little voice in her head warning her not to get hurt. She had to tread carefully here, for—as much as they seemed to get along—Jeremy Marsh would indeed hurt her if she allowed it to happen.Jeremy was hunched over a series of street maps of Boone Creek, dating back to the 1850s. The older they were, the more written detail they seemed to have, and as he watched how the town had changed decade by decade, he jotted additional notes. From a sleepy village nestled along a dozen roads, the town had continued to expand outward.The cemetery, as he already knew, sat between the river and Riker’s Hill; more important, he realized that a line drawn between Riker’s Hill and the paper mill would pass directly through the cemetery. The total distance was a little more than three miles, and he knew that it was possible for light to be refracted that far, even on foggy nights. He wondered if the factory had a third shift, which would necessitate keeping the place brightly lit, even at night. With the right layering of the fog and enough brightness, everything could be explained in one fell swoop.Upon reflection, he realized he should have noticed the straight-line relationship between the paper mill and Riker’s Hill when he was up there. Instead, he’d been caught up in enjoying the view, looking over the town, and spending time with Lexie.He was still trying to figure out the sudden change in her behavior. Yesterday she wanted nothing to do with him, and today . . . well, today was a new day, wasn’t it? And damned if he couldn’t stop thinking about her, and not just in the usual, clothes-heapedat-the-foot-of-the-bed sort of way. He couldn’t remember the last time that had happened. Maria, probably, but that was a long time ago. A lifetime ago, when he was someone else entirely. But today the conversation had been so natural, so comfortable, that despite the fact he should finish studying the maps, all he really wanted to do was get to know her even better.Strange, he thought, and before he realized what was happening, he stood from his desk and began making his way to the stairs. He knew she was reading to the children, and he had no intention of disturbing her, but he suddenly wanted to see her.He walked down the steps, rounded the corner, and moved to one of the glass walls. It took only a moment for him to spot Lexie sitting on the floor, surrounded by children.She read in an animated way, and he smiled at her expressions: the wide eyes, the “O” she made with her mouth, the way she leaned forward to emphasize something that was happening in the story. The mothers sat with smiles on their faces. A couple of the kids were abolutely still; the others looked as if they’d taken wiggle pills.“She’s really something, isn’t she?”Jeremy turned in surprise. “Mayor Gherkin. What are you doing here?”“Why, I came to see you, of course. And Miss Lexie, too. About the dinner tonight. We’ve got everything just about set up. I think you’ll be quite impressed.”“I’m sure I will,” Jeremy said.“But like I was saying, she’s really something, isn’t she?”Jeremy said nothing, and the mayor winked before going on. “I saw the way you were looking at her. A man’s eyes give him away. The eyes always tell the truth.”“What’s that supposed to mean?”The mayor grinned. “Well, I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?”“There’s nothing to tell.”“Of course not,” he said.Jeremy shook his head. “Look, Mr. Mayor . . . Tom—”“Oh, never mind. I was just teasing. But let me tell you a bit about our little get-together this evening.”Mayor Gherkin told Jeremy the location, then offered directions that, somewhat unsurprisingly, were heavy on local landmarks. No doubt Tully taught him everything he knew, Jeremy thought.“Do you think you’ll be able to find it?” the mayor asked when he was finished.“I’ve got a map,” Jeremy said.“That might help, but keep in mind that those back roads can get kind of dark. It’s easy to get lost if you’re not careful. You might consider coming with someone who knows where it is.”When Jeremy looked at him curiously, Gherkin glanced knowingly through the window.“You think I should ask Lexie?” Jeremy asked.The mayor’s eyes twinkled. “That’s up to you. If you think she’d agree. A lot of men consider her the prize of the county.”“She’d say yes,” Jeremy said, feeling more hopeful than certain.The mayor looked doubtful. “I think you may be overestimating your own abilities. But if you’re so sure, then I suppose my business is through here. You see, I came to invite her myself, but since you’re going to take care of it, I’ll just see you tonight.”The mayor turned to leave, and a few minutes later, Jeremy watched Lexie finish up. She closed the book, and as the parents rose, he felt a jolt of nervous adrenaline. The sensation amazed him. When was the last time that had happened?A few mothers called to those kids who hadn’t been listening, and a moment later, Lexie was following the group out of the children’s room. When she saw Jeremy, she headed over.“I take it you’re ready to start looking through the diaries,” she surmised.“If you have time to get them,” he said. “I still have a way to go with the maps. But actually, there’s something else, too.”“Oh?” She tilted her head slightly.As he spoke, he noticed the butterflies in his stomach. Weird.“The mayor came by to tell me about the dinner tonight at the Lawson Plantation, and he’s not sure if I can find the place on my own, so he suggested that I bring someone who knows where it is. And, well, since you’re pretty much the only one I know in town, I was wondering if you’d be willing to accompany me.”For a long moment, Lexie said nothing.“Figures,” she finally said.Her response caught Jeremy off-guard.“Excuse me?”“Oh, it’s not you. It’s the mayor and the way he does things. He knows I try to avoid events like this whenever possible, unless it has to do with the library. He figured that I’d say no if he asked, so he finagled a way to get you to ask me instead. And here you are. And here I am.”Jeremy blinked at the thought, trying to remember the exact exchange, but only coming up with bits and pieces. Who had suggested he go with Lexie? He or the mayor?“Why do I suddenly feel like I’m in the middle of a soap opera?”“Because you are. It’s called living in a small southern town.”Jeremy paused, looking uncertain. “You really think the mayor had all this planned?”“I know he had it planned. He might come across like he’s no smarter than a sack of grass, but he has a funny knack of getting people to do exactly what he wants and making them think it was their idea all along. Why on earth do you think you’re still staying at Greenleaf?”Jeremy pushed his hands into his pockets, considering it. “Well, just so you know, you don’t have to come. I’m sure I can find the place on my own.”She put her hands on her hips and looked at him. “Are you backing out on me?”Jeremy froze, unsure how to respond. “Well, I just thought that since the mayor . . .”“Do you want me to come with you or not?” she asked.“I do, but if you’re not—”“Then ask me again.”“Excuse me?”“Ask me to come with you tonight. For yourself this time, and don’t use the excuse about needing directions. Say something like, ‘I’d really like to bring you to the dinner tonight. Can I pick you up later?’”He looked at her, trying to decide if she was serious. “You want me to say those words?”“If you don’t, it’ll still be the mayor’s idea and I won’t go. But if you ask me, you have to mean it, so use the right tone.”Jeremy fidgeted like a nervous schoolboy. “I’d really like to bring you to the dinner tonight. May I pick you up later?”She smiled and placed her hand on his arm.“Why, Mr. Marsh,” she drawled, “I’d be delighted.”Minutes later, Jeremy was watching Lexie retrieve the diaries from a locked case in the rare-book room, his head still spinning. Women in New York simply didn’t talk to him the way Lexie did. He wasn’t sure if she’d been reasonable or unreasonable or somewhere in between. Ask me again and use the right tone. What kind of woman did that? And why on earth did he find it so . . . compelling?He wasn’t sure, and all of a sudden, the story and the opportunity for television were nothing more than minor details. Instead, as he watched Lexie, all he could think about was how warm her hand felt when she’d laid it ever so gently on his arm.

[Dalyia]

True BelieverNineLater that evening, as the fog thickened into a soupy mess, Rodney Hopper decided that the Lawson Plantation looked like it was about to host a Barry Manilow concert.For the last twenty minutes, he’d been directing the traffic into parking spots and watching in disbelief at the procession excitedly making its way toward the door. To this point, he’d seen Drs. Benson and Tricket, Albert the dentist, all eight members of the town council, including Tully and Jed, the mayor and the staff from the Chamber of Commerce, the entire school board, all nine county commissioners, the volunteers from the Historical Society, three accountants, the entire crew from Herbs, the bartender from Lookilu, the barber, and even Toby, who emptied septic tanks for a living but looked remarkably spiffy nonetheless. Lawson Plantation wasn’t even this crowded during the Christmas season, when the place was decorated to the nines and free to the public on the first Friday in December.Tonight wasn’t the same. This wasn’t a celebration where friends and acquaintances got together to enjoy each other’s company before the hectic holiday rush. This was a party meant to honor someone who had nothing to do with the town and didn’t give a damn about this place. Even worse, though Rodney was here on official business, he suddenly knew he shouldn’t have bothered ironing his shirt and polishing his shoes, since he doubted that Lexie would even notice.He knew all about it. After Doris had gone back to Herbs to get the cooking under way, the mayor had rolled in and mentioned the awful news about Jeremy and Lexie, and Rachel had called him straightaway. Rachel, he thought, was sweet in that way and always had been. She knew how he felt about Lexie and didn’t tease him like a lot of other folks did. Anyway, he got the impression that she wasn’t all that thrilled, either, with the idea of them showing up together. But Rachel was better at hiding her feelings than he was, and right now he wished he were somewhere else. Everything about tonight left him feeling lousy.Especially the way the whole town was acting. By his reckoning, folks around here hadn’t been this excited about the town’s prospects since the Raleigh News & Observer had sent a reporter to do a story about Jumpy Walton, who was attempting to build a replica of the Wright Brothers’ plane, one he planned to fly in commemoration of the hundredth anniversary of aviation at Kitty Hawk. Jumpy, who’d always had a couple of screws loose, had long claimed to be nearly finished with the replica, but when he opened the barn doors to proudly show how far he’d gotten, the reporter realized that Jumpy didn’t have the slightest clue about what he was doing. In the barn, the replica looked like a giant, crooked version of a barbed-wire and plywood chicken.And now the town was placing its bets on the existence of ghosts in the cemetery and that the city boy would bring the world to their doorstep because of them. Rodney strongly doubted it. And besides, he didn’t honestly care if the world came or not, as long as Lexie stayed part of his world.Across town and at about the same time, Lexie stepped onto her porch just as Jeremy was coming up the walkway with a small bouquet of wildflowers in hand. Nice touch, she thought, and she suddenly hoped he couldn’t tell how frazzled she’d been until just a few minutes ago.Being a woman was challenging sometimes, and tonight had been rougher than most. First, of course, there was the question of whether this was even an actual date. Granted, it was closer to a date than what had gone on at lunch, but it wasn’t exactly a romantic dinner for two, and she wasn’t sure whether she would have even consented to something like that. Then there was the whole image question and how she wanted to be perceived, not only by Jeremy but by everyone else who would see them together. Add the fact that she was most comfortable when she wore jeans and had no intention of showing any cleavage, and the whole thing became so confusing that she’d finally just thrown in the towel. In the end, she’d decided to go with a professional look: brown pantsuit with an ivory blouse.But here he comes waltzing up in his Johnny Cash look, as if he hadn’t given the evening a second thought.“You found the place,” Lexie observed.“It wasn’t too hard,” Jeremy said. “You showed me where you lived when we were on Riker’s Hill, remember?” He offered the flowers. “Here. These are for you.”She smiled as she took them, looking absolutely lovely. Sexy, too, of course. But “lovely” seemed more appropriate.“Thank you,” she said. “How’d the diary search go?”“Okay,” he said. “Nothing too spectacular in the ones I’ve looked through so far.”“Just give it a chance,” she said with a smile. “Who knows what you’ll find?” She raised the bouquet to her nose. “These are beautiful, by the way. Give me a second to put them in a vase, grab a long coat, and then I’ll be ready.”He opened his palms. “I’ll wait here.”A couple of minutes later in the car, they were driving through town in the opposite direction from the cemetery. As the fog continued to thicken, Lexie directed Jeremy along the back roads until they came to a long winding drive, bordered on both sides by oaks that looked as if they’d been planted a hundred years ago. Though he couldn’t see the house, he slowed the car as he approached a towering hedge that he assumed lined a circular drive. He leaned over the steering wheel, wondering which way to turn.“You might want to consider parking here,” Lexie suggested. “I doubt if you’ll find something any closer, and besides, you’ll want to be able to get out of here later when you need to.”“Are you sure? We can’t even see the house yet.”“Trust me,” she said. “Why do you think I brought the long coat?”He debated only for an instant before deciding, Why not? And a moment later, they were walking up the drive, Lexie doing her best to keep the jacket pinched together. They followed the curve of the drive near the hedge, and all at once, the old Georgian mansion stood in blazing glory before them.The house, however, wasn’t the first thing Jeremy noticed. What he saw first were the cars. Scores of cars, parked haphazardly, noses pointing in every direction as if planning a fast getaway. Numerous others were either circling the mayhem and flashing their brake lights or trying to squeeze into improbably tiny spaces.Jeremy halted, staring at the scene.“I thought this was supposed to be a little get-together with friends.”Lexie nodded. “This is the mayor’s version of a little get-together. You have to remember, he knows practically everyone in the county.”“And you knew this was coming?”“Of course.”“Why didn’t you tell me it would be like this?”“Like I keep telling you, you keep forgetting to ask. And besides, I thought you knew.”“How could I have known he was planning something like this?”She smiled, looking toward the house. “It is kind of impressive, isn’t it? Not that I think you necessarily deserve it.”He grunted in amusement. “You know, I’ve really come to appreciate your southern charm.”“Thank you. And don’t worry about tonight. It’s not going to be as stressful as you think. Everyone’s friendly, and when in doubt, just remember that you’re the guest of honor.”Doris had to be the single most organized and efficient caterer in the world, Rachel thought, since this whole thing had been pulled off without a hitch and with plenty of time to spare. Instead of having to dish up food all night, Rachel was wiggling through the crowds in her best imitation Chanel party dress when she spotted Rodney walking up to the porch.With his neatly pressed uniform, she thought he looked quite official, like a marine in one of those old World War II posters in the VFW building on Main Street. Most of the other deputies carried a few too many chicken wings and Budweisers around the midsection, but in his off-hours, Rodney pumped iron in his garage gym. He kept the garage door open, and sometimes on her way home from work, she’d stop and visit with him for a while, like the old friends that they were. As little kids, they’d been neighbors, and her mother had pictures of them bathing in the tub together. Most old friends couldn’t say that.She took a tube of lipstick from her purse and dabbed at her lips, conscious of the soft spot she had for him. Oh, they’d gone their separate ways for a while, but in the last couple of years, things had been changing. Two summers ago, they’d ended up sitting near each other at the Lookilu, and she’d seen his expression as he watched a newscast about a young boy who had died in a tragic fire in Raleigh. Seeing his eyes well up over the loss of a stranger had affected her in a way she hadn’t expected. She’d noticed it a second time last Easter, when the Sheriff’s Department sponsored the town’s official egg hunt at the Masonic Lodge and he’d pulled her aside to tell her some of the trickier places in which he’d hidden the goodies. He’d looked more excited than the children, which made for a funny contrast with his bulging biceps, and she remembered thinking to herself that he’d be the kind of father who would make any wife proud.Looking back, she supposed that was the moment she realized that her feelings for Rodney had changed. It wasn’t that she fell in love with him right then and there, but it was the moment when she realized that she’d stopped believing the possibility to be nil. Not that it was likely, though. Rodney was over the moon for Lexie. Always had been, always would be, and Rachel had long since come to the conclusion that nothing would ever change the way he felt about her. There were times when it wasn’t easy, and there were times when it didn’t bother her at all, but lately, she admitted that the times it didn’t bother her were fewer and further between.Pushing through the crowd, she wished she hadn’t brought up the subject of Jeremy Marsh at lunch. She should have known what was bothering Rodney. By now, it seemed, the entire town was talking about Lexie and Jeremy, starting with the grocer who had sold them their lunch and spreading like fire once the mayor made his announcement. She would still like to go to New York, but as she’d mentally replayed her conversation with Jeremy, she’d gradually come to the realization that he might have simply been making conversation and not extending an invitation. Sometimes she read too much into situations like that.But Jeremy Marsh was just so . . . perfect.Cultured, intelligent, charming, famous, and, best of all, not from here. There was no way Rodney could compete with that, and she had the sinking suspicion that Rodney knew it, too. But Rodney, on the other hand, was here and didn’t plan to leave, which was a different sort of an advantage, if one chose to see it that way. And, she had to admit, he was responsible and good-looking, too, in his own way.“Hey, Rodney,” she said, smiling.Rodney glanced over his shoulder. “Oh, hey, Rach. How are you?”“Good, thanks. Some party, huh?”“It’s great,” he said, not hiding the sarcasm in his voice. “How’s it going inside?”“Pretty good. They just got the banner up.”“Banner?’“Sure. The one welcoming him to town. His name is in big blue letters and everything.”Rodney exhaled, his chest collapsing slightly. “Great,” he said again.“You should see what else the mayor has in store for him. Not only the banner and the food, but he had a key to the city made.”“I heard,” Rodney said.“And the Mahi-Mahis are here, too,” she continued, referring to a barbershop quartet. Local citizens, they’d been singing together for forty-three years, and even though two of the members had to use walkers and one had a nervous twitch that forced him to sing with his eyes closed, they were nonetheless the most famous entertainers within a hundred miles.“Swell,” Rodney said again.His tone gave her pause for the first time. “I guess you don’t want to hear about any of that, though, huh?”“No, not really.”“Why did you come, then?”“Tom talked me into it. One day I’m going to figure out where he’s coming from before he opens his mouth.”“It won’t be so bad,” she said. “I mean, you’ve seen how people are tonight. Everyone wants to talk to him. It’s not like he and Lexie can hole up in some corner somewhere. I’ll bet you ten to one they won’t even be able to say more than ten words to each other all night. And, just to let you know, I saved a plate of food for you, if you don’t have a chance to get anything to eat.”Rodney hesitated for a moment before smiling. Rachel always looked out for him.“Thanks, Rach.” For the first time, he noticed what she was wearing, his eyes alighting on the little gold hoops in her ears. He added, “You look nice tonight.”“Thank you.”“You want to keep me company for a while?”She smiled. “I’d like that.”Jeremy and Lexie wove through the mass of parked cars, their breaths coming out in little puffs as they neared the mansion. On the steps up ahead, Jeremy saw one couple after another pausing at the door before going inside, and it took just an instant to recognize Rodney Hopper standing near the door. Rodney saw Jeremy at the same time, and his smile immediately changed into a scowl. Even from a distance, he looked large, jealous, and, most important, armed, none of which made Jeremy feel particularly comfortable.Lexie followed his gaze. “Oh, don’t worry about Rodney,” she said. “You’re with me.”“That’s what I’m worried about,” he said. “I kind of get the feeling he isn’t all that happy that we showed up together.”She knew Jeremy was right, although she was thankful that Rachel was beside the deputy. Rachel always had a way of keeping Rodney calm, and Lexie had long thought that she’d be perfect for him. She hadn’t, however, figured out a way of spelling it out for him without hurting his feelings. It wasn’t the sort of thing she could bring up while they were dancing at the Shriners’ Benefit Ball, was it?“If it’ll make you feel better, just let me do the talking,” she said.“I was planning on it.”Rachel brightened when she saw them coming up the steps.“Hey, you two!” she said. When they were close, she reached out to tug on Lexie’s jacket. “I love your outfit, Lex.”“Thanks, Rachel,” Lexie said. “And you look like a million bucks, too.”Jeremy said nothing, preferring to examine his fingernails as he tried to avoid the evil eye that Rodney was sending his way. In the sudden silence, Rachel and Lexie glanced at each other. Reading Lexie’s clues, Rachel stepped forward.“And look at you, Mr. Famous Journalist,” she sang out. “Why, one look at you, and women’s hearts will be fluttering all night.” She flashed a broad smile. “I almost hate to ask, Lexie, but would you mind if I escorted him inside? I just know the mayor is waiting for him.”“Not at all,” Lexie said, knowing she needed a minute alone with Rodney. She nodded to Jeremy. “Go ahead, I’ll catch up in a minute.”Rachel clamped onto Jeremy’s arm, and before he realized it, he was being led away. “Now, have you ever been to a southern plantation as fine as this one?” Rachel asked.“I can’t say that I have,” Jeremy answered, wondering if he was being thrown to the wolves. As they passed, Lexie mouthed a silent thank-you and Rachel winked.Lexie turned toward Rodney.“It’s not what you think,” she began, and Rodney raised his hands to stop her from continuing.“Look,” he said, “you don’t have to explain. I’ve seen it before, remember?”She knew he was referring to Mr. Renaissance, and her first instinct was to tell him that he was wrong. She wanted to tell him that she wasn’t going to let her feelings run wild this time, but she knew she’d made that promise before. That was what she said to Rodney, after all, when he’d tried to gently warn her that Mr. Renaissance had no intention of staying.“I wish I knew what to say,” she said, hating the guilty note in her voice.“You don’t have to say anything.”She knew she didn’t. It wasn’t as if they were a couple or had ever been a couple, but she had the strange sensation of confronting an ex-spouse after a recent divorce, when the wounds were still fresh. Again, she wished he would simply move on, but a little voice reminded her that she’d played a role in keeping the spark alive these last couple of years, even if it had more to do with security and comfort on her part than with anything romantic.“Well, just so you know, I’m actually looking forward to things getting back to normal around here,” she volunteered.“Me, too,” he said.Neither said anything for a moment. In the silence, Lexie glanced off to the side, wishing that Rodney wore his feelings with a bit more subtlety.“Rachel sure looks nice, doesn’t she?” she said.Rodney’s chin dropped to his chest before he looked at Lexie again. For the first time, she saw the tiniest of smiles.“Yeah,” he said, “she does.”“Is she still seeing Jim?” she asked, referring to the Terminix man. Lexie had seen them together in the green truck mounted with a giant bug on their way to Greenville for dinner during the holidays.“No, that’s over,” he said. “They only went out once. She said his car smelled like disinfectant, and she sneezed like crazy the whole night.”Despite the tension, Lexie laughed. “That sounds like something that could only happen to Rachel.”“She got over it. And it’s not like it made her bitter or anything. She keeps getting back on the horse, you know.”“Sometimes I think she needs to pick better horses. Or at least ones without giant bugs on the car.”He chuckled, as if thinking the same thing. Their eyes met for an instant, then Lexie turned away. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.“Well, listen, I should probably head inside,” she said.“I know,” he said.“Are you coming in?”“I’m not sure yet. I wasn’t planning on staying that long. And besides, I’m still on call. The county is pretty big for one person, and Bruce is the only one in the field right now.”She nodded. “Well, if I don’t see you again tonight, keep safe, okay?”“I will. See you later.”She began moving toward the door.“Hey, Lexie?”She turned. “Yes?”He swallowed. “You look nice, too, by the way.”The sad way he said it nearly broke her heart, and her eyes dipped for an instant. “Thank you,” she said.Rachel and Jeremy kept a low profile, moving around the edges of the crowd, as Rachel showed him the paintings of various members of the Lawson family who shared a striking resemblance not only from one generation to the next but, strangely, across genders as well. The men had effeminate qualities, and the women tended to be masculine, thus making it seem as if every artist had used the same androgynous model.But he appreciated the fact that Rachel was keeping him occupied and out of harm’s way, even if she refused to release his arm. He could hear people talking about him but wasn’t quite ready to mingle yet, even if the whole thing did leave him feeling just a bit flattered. Nate hadn’t been able to rustle up a tenth of this number of people to watch his television appearance, and he’d had to offer free booze as an enticement to get even that many to show.Not here, though. Not in small-town America, where people played bingo, went bowling, and watched reruns of Matlock on TNT. He hadn’t seen so much blue hair and polyester since . . . well, since ever, and as he was pondering the whole situation, Rachel squeezed his arm to get his attention.“Get ready, darlin’. It’s showtime.”“Excuse me?”She looked past him, toward the rising commotion behind them.“Well, Mayor Tom, how are you?” Rachel asked, beaming that Hollywood smile again.Mayor Gherkin seemed to be the only person in the room who was perspiring. His bald head was shiny in the light, and if he seemed surprised that Jeremy was with Rachel, he didn’t show it.“Rachel! You are looking lovely as always, and I see you’ve been sharing the illustrious past of this fine home with our guest here.”“Doing my best,” she said.“Good, good. I’m glad to hear it.” They engaged in more small talk before Gherkin got to the point.“And I hate to ask you this, being that you’ve been kind enough to tell him about this fine establishment, but would you mind?” he said, motioning to Jeremy. “People are excited to get this fine event started.”“Not at all,” she answered, and in the next instant, the mayor had replaced Rachel’s hand with his own and began leading Jeremy through the crowd.As they walked, people quieted and moved off to the side, like the Red Sea parting for Moses. Others stared with wide eyes or craned their necks to get a better view. People oohed and aahed, whispering aloud that it must be him.“I can’t tell you how glad we are that you finally made it,” Mayor Gherkin said, speaking from the corner of his mouth and continuing to smile to the crowd. “For a minute there, I was beginning to worry.”“Maybe we should wait for Lexie,” Jeremy answered, trying to keep his cheeks from turning red. This whole thing, especially being escorted by the mayor like a prom queen, was just a little bit too small-town America, not to mention a little on the weird side.“I’ve already spoken to her, and she’ll meet us there.”“And where’s that?”“Why, you’re going to meet the rest of the town council, of course. You’ve already met Jed and Tully and the folks I introduced you to this morning, but there are a few others. And the county commissioners, too. Like me, they’re mighty impressed with your visit here. Mighty impressed. And don’t worry—they’ve got all their ghost stories ready. You brought your tape recorder, right?”“It’s in my pocket.”“Good, good. Glad to hear it. And . . .” For the first time, he turned from the crowd to look at Jeremy. “I take it you are heading out to the cemetery tonight . . .”“I was, and speaking of that, I wanted to make sure—”The mayor kept on going as if he hadn’t heard him, while nodding and waving to the crowd. “Well, as the mayor, I feel it’s my obligation to tell you not to worry none about meeting those ghosts. Oh, they’re a sight, of course. Enough to startle an elephant into fainting. But so far, no one’s ever been hurt, except for Bobby Lee Howard, and ramming into that road sign afterward had less to do with what he saw than the fact that he’d finished a twelve-pack of Pabst before he got behind the wheel.”“Ah,” Jeremy said, beginning to mimic the mayor by nodding and waving. “I’ll try to keep that in mind.”Lexie was waiting for him when he met the town council, and he breathed a sigh of relief when she moved to his side as he was introduced to the town’s power elite. Most were friendly enough—although Jed stood frowning with his arms crossed—but he couldn’t help watching Lexie from the corner of his eye. She seemed distracted, and he wondered what had happened between her and Rodney.Jeremy didn’t have a chance to find out, or even relax, for the next three hours, as the rest of the evening was akin to an old-fashioned political convention. After his meeting with the council—each and every one of them, Jed excluded, seemed to have been prepped by the mayor and promised “it could be the biggest story ever” and reminded him that “tourism is important to the town”—Jeremy was brought to the stage, which had been festooned with a banner proclaiming, welcome jeremy marsh!Technically, it wasn’t a stage, but a long wooden table topped with a shiny purple tablecloth. Jeremy had to use a chair to step up onto it, as did Gherkin, only to confront a sea of strange faces gazing up at him. Once the crowd quieted, the mayor made a long-winded speech praising Jeremy for his professionalism and honesty as if they’d known each other for years. Additionally, Gherkin not only mentioned the Primetime Live appearance— which elicited the familiar smiles and nods, as well as a few more oohs and aahs—but a number of well-received articles he’d written, including a piece he’d done for the Atlantic Monthly concerning biological weapons research at Fort Detrick. As much as he sometimes came off as a goofball, Jeremy thought, the man had done his homework and definitely knew how to flatter. At the end of the speech, Jeremy was presented with a key to the city, and the Mahi-Mahis—who were standing on another table along an adjacent wall—broke in and sang three songs: “Carolina in My Mind,” “New York, New York,” and, perhaps most appropriate, the theme from Ghostbusters.Surprisingly, the Mahi-Mahis weren’t half-bad, even though he had no idea how they managed to get up on the table. The crowd loved them, and for an instant, Jeremy found himself smiling and actually enjoying himself. As he stood onstage, Lexie winked at him, which only made the whole thing seem more surreal.From there, the mayor led him off to the corner, where he was seated in a comfortable antique chair set in front of an antique table. With his tape recorder running, Jeremy spent the rest of the evening listening to one story after another about encounters with the ghosts. The mayor had people line up, and they chatted excitedly while waiting their turn to meet him, as if he were giving autographs.Unfortunately, most of the stories he heard began to run together. Everyone in line claimed to have seen the lights, but each one of them had a different description. Some swore they looked like people, others like strobe lights. One man said they looked exactly like a Halloween costume, right down to the sheet. The most original was from a guy named Joe, who said he’d seen the lights more than half a dozen times, and he spoke with authority when he said they looked exactly like the glowing Piggly Wiggly sign on Route 54 near Vanceboro.At the same time, Lexie was always in the area talking to various people, and every now and then, their eyes would meet while both she and he were engaged in conversation with others. As if they were sharing a private joke, she would smile with raised eyebrows, her expression seeming to ask him, See what you’ve gotten yourself into?Lexie, Jeremy reflected, wasn’t like any of the women he’d recently dated. She didn’t hide what she was thinking, she didn’t try to impress him, nor was she swayed by anything he’d accomplished in the past. Instead, she seemed to evaluate him as he was today, right now, without holding either the past or the future against him.It was, he realized, one of the reasons he’d married Maria. It wasn’t simply the heady flush of emotions he’d felt when they first made love that had enthralled him—rather, it was the simple things that convinced him that she was the one. Her lack of pretense around others, the steely way she confronted him when he did something wrong, the patience with which she would listen to him as he paced around, struggling with a vexing problem. And though he and Lexie hadn’t shared any of the daily nitty-gritty of life, he couldn’t shake the thought that she’d be good at dealing with it, if that was what she wanted.Jeremy realized she had a genuine affection for the people here, and she seemed to be truly interested in whatever it was they were saying. Her behavior suggested that she had no reason to rush or cut someone’s conversation short, and she had no inhibitions about laughing aloud when something amused her. Every now and then, she’d lean in to hug someone, and pulling back, she’d reach for the person’s hands and murmur something along the lines of “I’m so glad to see you again.” That she didn’t seem to think of herself as different, or even notice the fact that others obviously did, reminded Jeremy of an aunt who had always been the most popular person at holiday dinners, simply because she focused her attention so completely on others.A few minutes later when he rose from the table to stretch his legs, Jeremy saw Lexie moving toward him, with just a trace of seduction in the gentle sway of her hips. And as he watched her, there was a moment, just a moment, when the scene seemed as if it weren’t happening now, but taking place in the future, just another little get-together in a long procession of get-togethers in a tiny southern town in the middle of nowhere.

[Dalyia]

True BelieverTenAs the evening drew to a close, Jeremy stood with Mayor Gherkin on the porch while Lexie and Doris stood off to the side.“I sure do hope this evening met with your approval,” Mayor Gherkin said, “and that you were able to see for yourself what a wonderful opportunity you have when it comes to this story.”“I did, thank you. But you didn’t have to go to all this trouble,” Jeremy protested.“Nonsense,” Gherkin replied. “Why, it’s the least we can do. And besides, I wanted you to see what this town is capable of when it sets its mind to something. You can only imagine what we’d do for those television folks. Of course, you’ll get a little bit more of the town’s flavor this weekend, too. The small-town atmosphere, the feeling of traveling back in time as you walk through the homes. It’s like nothing you can imagine.”“I have no doubt about that,” Jeremy said.Gherkin smiled. “Well, listen, I have a few things to take care of inside. A mayor’s duty never ends, you know.”“I understand,” he said. “And thanks for this, by the way,” Jeremy said, raising the key to the city.“Oh, you’re very welcome. You deserve it.” He reached for Jeremy’s hand. “But don’t get any funny ideas. It’s not like you can open the bank vault with it. It’s more of a symbolic gesture.”Jeremy smiled as Gherkin pumped his hand. After Gherkin vanished inside, Doris and Lexie approached Jeremy, smirks on their faces. Despite that, Jeremy couldn’t help but notice that Doris looked exhausted.“L-I-B,” Doris said.“What?” Jeremy asked.“You and your city slicker ways.”“Excuse me?”“It’s just that you should have heard the way some of these folks were talking about you,” Doris teased. “I just feel lucky that I can say I knew you way back when.”Jeremy smiled, looking sheepish. “It was a little crazy, wasn’t it?”“I’ll say,” Doris said. “My Bible study group talked all night about how handsome you are. A couple of them wanted to bring you home, but fortunately, I was able to talk them out of it. And besides, I don’t think their husbands would have been too thrilled.”“I appreciate that.”“Did you get enough to eat? I think I can rustle up some food if you’re hungry.”“No, I’m fine. Thanks.”“You sure? Your night’s really just beginning, isn’t it?”“I’ll be okay,” he assured her. In the silence, he looked around, noting that the fog had become even thicker. “But on that note, I suppose I should probably be going. I’d hate to miss my big chance at getting a whiff of the supernatural.”“Don’t worry. You won’t miss the lights,” Doris said. “They don’t come out until later, so you’ve still got a couple of hours.” Surprising Jeremy, she leaned in and gave him a tired hug. “I just wanted to thank you for taking the time to meet everyone. It’s not every stranger who’s as good at listening as you are.”“No problem. I enjoyed it.”After Doris had released him, Jeremy turned his attention to Lexie, thinking that growing up with Doris must have been a lot like growing up with his own mother.“You ready to go?”Lexie nodded, but still hadn’t said a word to him. Instead, she kissed Doris on the cheek, said she’d see her tomorrow, and a moment later, Jeremy and Lexie were walking to the car, the gravel crunching softly beneath their feet. She seemed to be staring into the distance but seeing nothing at all. After a few steps in silence, Jeremy gently nudged her shoulder with his.“You okay? You’re sort of quiet.”She shook her head, coming back to him. “I’m just thinking about Doris. Tonight really tired her out, and even though I probably shouldn’t, I worry about her.”“She seemed fine.”“Yeah, she puts up a good front. But she’s got to learn to take it easier. She had a heart attack a couple of years ago, but she likes to pretend it never happened. And after this, she has a big weekend, too.”Jeremy wasn’t quite sure what to say; the thought that Doris was anything but healthy had never entered his mind.Lexie noticed his discomfort and smiled. “But she did enjoy herself, that’s for sure. We both had the chance to talk to a lot of people that we haven’t seen in a while.”“I thought everyone here saw everyone else all the time.”“We do. But people are busy, and it’s not often that you have more than a few minutes to chat between errands. Tonight was nice, though.” She glanced toward him. “And Doris was right. People loved you.”She sounded almost shocked by the admission, and Jeremy pushed his hands into his pockets.“Well, you shouldn’t have been surprised. I am very lovable, you know.”She rolled her eyes, looking more playful than annoyed. Behind them, the house was receding into the distance as they rounded the hedge.“Hey, I know it’s none of my business, but how did it go with Rodney?”She hesitated before finally shrugging. “You’re right. It is none of your business.”He looked for a smile but saw none. “Well, the only reason I asked was because I was wondering whether you think it might be a good idea if I sneak out of town under the cover of darkness so he doesn’t have the chance to crush my head with his bare hands.”That brought a smile. “You’ll be fine. And besides, you’d break the mayor’s heart if you left. Not every visitor gets a party like this or a key to the city.”“It’s the first one I’ve ever received. Usually, I just get hate mail.”She laughed, the sound melodic. In the moonlight, her features were unreadable, and he thought back to how animated she had been among the townspeople.Reaching the car, he opened the door for her. As she climbed in, she brushed against him slightly, and he wondered if she did so in response to the way he’d nudged her, or if she even noticed. After rounding the car, he slid behind the wheel, slipping the keys into the ignition but hesitating before starting the engine.“What?” she asked.“I was just thinking . . . ,” he said, trailing off.The words seemed to hang in the car and she nodded. “I thought I heard some squeaking.”“Funny. I was trying to say, I know it’s getting late, but would you like to come with me to the cemetery?”“In case you get scared?”“Something like that.”She peeked at her watch, thinking, Oh, boy . . .She shouldn’t go. She really shouldn’t. She’d already opened the door by coming with him tonight, and to spend the next couple of hours alone with him would open the door even further. She knew that nothing good could come of that, and there wasn’t a single reason to say yes. But before she could stop herself, the words were already coming.“I’d have to swing by the house first to change into something more comfortable.”“That’s fine,” he said. “I’m all for you changing into something more comfortable.”“I’ll bet you are,” she said knowingly.“Now, don’t start getting fresh,” he said, feigning offense. “I don’t think we know each other well enough for that.”“That’s my line,” she said.“I thought I’d heard it somewhere.”“Well, get your own material next time. And just so you know, I don’t want you getting any funny ideas about tonight, either.”“I have no funny ideas. I’m completely devoid of humor.”“You know what I meant.”“No,” he said, trying to look innocent. “What did you mean?”“Just drive, will you? Or I’ll change my mind.”“Okay, okay,” he said, turning the key. “Gee, you can be pushy sometimes.”“Thank you. I’ve been told it’s one of my better qualities.”“By whom?”“Wouldn’t you like to know?”The Taurus rolled along the foggy streets, the yellow streetlamps only making the night seem murkier. As soon as they pulled into her drive, she opened her door.“Wait here,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ll only be a few minutes.”He smiled, liking the fact she was nervous.“Do you need my key to the city to open your door? I’d be happy to lend it to you.”“Now, don’t start thinking you’re special, Mr. Marsh. My mother got a key to the city, too.”“Are we back to ‘Mr. Marsh’ again? And here I thought we were getting along just fine.”“And I’m beginning to think this evening has gone to your head.”She stepped out of the car and closed the door behind her in an attempt to have the last word. Jeremy laughed, thinking she was a lot like he was. Unable to resist, he pressed the button on his door to lower her window. He leaned across the seat.“Hey, Lexie?”She turned. “Yes?”“Since it might be chilly tonight, feel free to grab a bottle of wine.”She put her hands on her hips. “Why? So you can ply me with liquor?”He grinned. “Only if you’re okay with that.”Her eyes narrowed, but like before, she looked more playful than offended. “Not only do I not keep any wine in the house, Mr. Marsh, but I’d say no, anyway.”“You don’t drink?”“Not too much,” she said. “Now, wait there,” she warned, pointing toward the drive. “I’m going to throw on a pair of jeans.”“I promise not to even try to peek in the window.”“Good idea. I’d definitely have to tell Rodney if you did something that stupid.”“That doesn’t sound good.”“Trust me,” she said, trying to muster a severe look, “it wouldn’t be.”Jeremy watched her move up the walkway, certain that he’d never met anyone quite like her.Fifteen minutes later, they pulled to a stop in front of Cedar Creek Cemetery. He’d angled the car so the headlights shone into the cemetery, and his first thought was that even the fog looked different here. It was dense and impenetrable in places while thin in others, and the slight breeze made discrete tendrils curve and twist, almost as if alive. The low-hanging branches of the magnolia tree were nothing but darkened shadows, and the crumbling tombs added to the eerie effect. It was so dark that Jeremy was unable to discern even the faintest sliver of the moon in the sky.Leaving the car idling, he popped the trunk. As she peered in, Lexie’s eyes widened.“It looks like you’ve got the makings to build a bomb in there.”“Nah,” he said. “Just a bunch of cool things. Guys love their toys, you know.”“I thought you’d just have a video camera or something like that.”“I do. I have four of them.”“Why do you need four?”“To film every angle, of course. For instance, what if the ghosts are walking in the wrong direction? I might not get their faces.”She ignored the comment. “And what’s this thing?” she asked, pointing to an electronic box.“A microwave radiation detector. And this over here,” he said, gesturing at another item, “sort of goes with it. It detects electromagnetic activity.”“You’re kidding.”“No,” he said. “It’s in the official ghostbuster’s handbook. You’ll often find increased spiritual activity in areas where there are high concentrations of energy, and this will help detect an abnormal energy field.”“Have you ever recorded an abnormal energy field?”“As a matter of fact, I have. In a supposedly haunted house, no less. Unfortunately, it had nothing to do with ghosts. The owner’s microwave oven wasn’t working properly.”“Ah,” she said.He looked at her. “Now you’re stealing my lines.”“It’s all I could come up with. Sorry.”“It’s okay. I’ll share.”“Why do you have all this stuff?”“Because,” he said, “when I debunk the possibility of ghosts, I have to use everything that paranormal investigators use. I don’t want to be accused of missing anything, and these people have their rules. Besides, it seems more impressive when someone reads that you’ve used an electromagnetic detector. They think you know what you’re doing.”“And do you?”“Sure. I told you, I have the official handbook.”She laughed. “So what can I help you with? Do you need me to help carry any of this stuff?”“We’ll be using all of it. But if you consider this to be manly work, I’m sure I can handle it on my own while you do your nails or something.”She pulled out one of the camcorders, slung it over her shoulder, and grabbed another one.“Okay, Mr. Manly, which way?”“That depends. Where do you think we should set up? Since you’ve seen the lights, maybe you have some ideas.”She nodded in the direction of the magnolia tree, where she’d been heading when he’d first seen her in the cemetery.“Over there,” she said. “That’s where you’ll see the lights.”It was the spot directly in front of Riker’s Hill, though the hill was hidden in the fog.“Do they always appear in the same spot?”“I have no idea. But that’s where they were when I saw them.”Over the next hour, as Lexie filmed him with one of the camcorders, Jeremy set everything up. He arranged the other three video recorders in a large triangular pattern, mounting them on tripods, attaching special filtering lenses to two of them, and adjusting the zoom until the entire area was overlapped. He tested the laser remotes, then began setting up the audio equipment. Four microphones were attached to nearby trees, and a fifth was placed near the center, which was where he’d set the electromagnetic and radiation detectors, as well as the central recorder.As he was making sure everything worked properly, he heard Lexie calling out to him.“Hey, how do I look?”He turned and saw her wearing the night-vision goggles and looking something like a bug.“Very sexy,” he said. “I think you’ve definitely found your style.”“These things are neat. I can see everything out here.”“Anything I should be worried about?”“Aside from a couple of hungry cougars and bears, you seem to be alone.”“Well, I’m almost done here. All I still have to do is spread some flour and unwind the thread.”“Flour? Like baking flour?”“It’s to make sure no one tampers with the equipment. The flour is so I can check for footprints, and the thread will let me know if anyone else approaches.”“That’s very clever. But you know we’re alone out here, right?”“You can never be certain,” he said.“Oh, I’m certain. But you just do your thing, and I’ll keep the camera pointed in the right direction. You’re doing great, by the way.”He laughed as he opened the bag of flour and began pouring, circling the cameras with a thin white layer. He did the same around the microphones and other equipment, then tied the thread to a branch and formed a large square around the whole area as if closing off a crime scene. He ran a second thread about two feet lower and then hung small bells on the thread. When he finally finished, he made his way back to Lexie.“I didn’t know there was so much to do,” she said.“I guess you’re developing a whole new level of respect for me, huh?”“Not really. I was actually just trying to make conversation.”He smiled before nodding toward the car. “I’m going to go hit the lights on the car. And hopefully, none of this will have been in vain.”When he shut off the engine, the cemetery turned black and he waited for his eyes to adjust. Unfortunately, they didn’t, the cemetery proving to be darker than a cave. After feeling his way back to the gate like a blind spelunker, he stumbled on an exposed root just inside the entrance and nearly fell.“Can I have my night-vision goggles?” he shouted.“No,” he heard her respond. “Like I said, these things are neat. And besides, you’re doing fine.”“But I can’t see anything.”“You’re clear for the next few steps. Just walk forward.”He moved forward slowly with his arms outstretched before stopping.“Now what?”“You’re in front of a crypt, so move to your left.” She sounded way too amused by this, Jeremy thought.“You forgot to say ‘Simon says.’”“Do you want my help or not?”“I really want my goggles,” he almost pleaded.“You’ll have to come and get them.”“You could always come and get me instead.”“I could, but I won’t. It’s much more fun to see you wandering around like a zombie. Now move to your left. I’ll tell you when to stop.”The game proceeded this way until he finally found his way back to her side. As he took a seat, she slipped the goggles off, grinning.“Here you go,” she said.“Gee, thanks.”“No problem. I’m glad I could help.”For the next half hour or so, Lexie and Jeremy rehashed the events of the party. It was too dark for Jeremy to read Lexie’s face, but he liked how close she felt in the enveloping darkness.Changing the topic of conversation, he said, “Tell me about the time that you saw the lights. I heard everyone else’s story tonight.”Though her features were nothing but shadows, Jeremy had the impression that she was being drawn back in time to something she wasn’t sure she wanted to remember.“I was eight years old,” she said, her voice soft. “For whatever reason, I’d started having nightmares about my parents. Doris kept their wedding picture on the wall, and that was the way they always looked in the dream: Mom in her wedding dress and Dad in his tuxedo. Only this time, they were trapped in their car after it had fallen in the river. It was like I was looking at them from outside the car, and I could see the panic and fear on both their faces as water slowly filled the car. And my mom would get this real sad expression on her face, like she knew it was the end, and all of a sudden, the car would start sinking faster, and I’d be watching it descend from above.”Her voice was strangely devoid of emotion, and she sighed.“I’d wake up screaming. I don’t know how many times it happened—it just sort of blurs together now in one big memory—but it must have gone on long enough for Doris to realize it wasn’t just a phase. I suppose other parents might have taken me to a therapist, but Doris . . . well, she just woke me up late one night and told me to get dressed and put on a warm jacket, and the next thing I knew she’d brought me here. She told me she was going to show me something wonderful . . .“I remember it was a night like tonight, so Doris held my hand to keep me from stumbling. We wound our way among the tombstones and then sat for a while until the lights came. They looked almost alive—everything got really bright . . . until the lights just faded away. And then we went home.”He could almost hear her shrug. “Even though I was young, I knew then what had happened, and when I got back home, I couldn’t sleep, because I’d just seen the ghosts of my parents. It was like they’d come to visit me. After that, I stopped having the nightmares.”Jeremy was silent.She leaned closer. “Do you believe me?”“Yes,” he said, “actually, I do. Your story would have been the one that I remembered from tonight, even if I didn’t know you.”“Well, just so you know, I’d rather my experience not end up in your article.”“Are you sure? You can be famous.”“I’ll pass. I’m witnessing firsthand how a little fame can ruin a person.”He laughed. “Since this is off the record, then, can I ask if your memories were part of the reason you agreed to come out here tonight? Or was it because you wanted to enjoy my scintillating company?”“Well, it definitely wasn’t the latter,” she said, but even as she said it, she knew it was. She thought he realized it as well, but in the brief pause that followed her remark, she sensed that her words had stung.“I’m sorry,” she said.“It’s okay,” he said, waiving it off. “Remember, I had five older brothers. Insults were mandatory in a family like ours, so I’m used to it.”She straightened up. “Okay, to answer your question . . . maybe I did want to see the lights again. To me, they’ve always been a source of comfort.”Jeremy picked up a twig from the ground and tossed it aside.“Your grandmother was a smart lady. Doing what she did, I mean.”“She is a smart lady.”“I stand corrected,” he said, and just then Lexie shifted beside him, as if straining to see into the distance.“I think you may want to turn your equipment on,” she said.“Why?”“Because they’re coming. Can’t you tell?”He was about to make a crack about being “ghostproof” when he realized that he could see not only Lexie but the cameras in the distance. And, he noticed, the route to the car. It was getting lighter out here, wasn’t it?“Hello,” she prompted. “You’re missing your big chance here.”He squinted, trying to make sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him, then aimed the remote at each of the three cameras. In the distance, the red power lights switched on. Still, it was all he could do to process the fact that something actually seemed to be happening.He glanced around, looking for passing cars or illuminated houses, and when he looked toward the cameras again, he decided that he definitely wasn’t seeing things. Not only were the cameras visible, but he could see the electromagnetic detector in the center of his triangle as well. He reached for his night-vision goggles.“You won’t need those,” she said.He put them on, anyway, and the world took on a greenish phosphorescent glow. As the light grew in intensity, the fog began to curve and swirl, assuming different shapes.He glanced at his watch: it was 11:44:10 p.m., and he made a note to remember it. He wondered if the moon had suddenly risen—he doubted it, but he would check on the phase when he got back to his room at Greenleaf.But these were secondary thoughts. The fog, as Lexie had predicted, continued to brighten, and he lowered the goggles for a moment, noting the difference between the images. It was still growing brighter outside, but the change seemed more significant with the goggles. He couldn’t wait to compare the videotaped images side by side. But right now all he could do was stare straight ahead, this time without the goggles.Holding his breath, he watched as the fog in front of them grew more silver by the moment, before changing to a pale yellow, then an opaque white, and finally an almost blinding brightness. For a moment, just a moment, most of the cemetery was visible—like a football field illuminated before the big game— and portions of the foggy light began to churn in a small circle before suddenly spreading outward from the cluster, like an exploding star. For an instant, Jeremy imagined that he saw the shapes of people or things, but just then the light began to recede, as if being pulled on a string, back toward the center, and even before he realized the lights had vanished, the cemetery had turned black once more.He blinked, as if to reassure himself that it had really happened, then checked his watch again. The whole event had taken twenty-two seconds from start to finish. Though he knew he should get up to check the equipment, there was a brief instant in which all he could do was stare at the spot where the ghosts of Cedar Creek had made their appearance.Fraud, honest mistakes, and coincidence were the most common explanations for events regarded as supernatural, and up to this point, every one of Jeremy’s investigations into such events had fallen into one of these three categories. The first tended to be the most prevalent explanation in situations where someone stood to profit somehow. William Newell, for instance, who claimed to find the petrified remains of a giant on his farm in New York in 1869, a statue known as the Cardiff Giant, fell into this category. Timothy Clausen, the spirit guide, was another example.But fraud also encompassed those who simply wanted to see how many people they could fool, not for money, but just to see if it was possible. Doug Bower and Dave Chorley, the English farmers who created the phenomenon known as crop circles, were one such example; the surgeon who photographed the Loch Ness Monster in 1933 was another. In both cases, the hoax was originally perpetrated as a practical joke, but public interest escalated so quickly that confessions were rendered difficult.Honest mistakes, on the other hand, were simply that. A weather ballon is mistaken for a flying saucer, a bear is mistaken for Bigfoot, an archaeological find is discovered to have been moved to its current location hundreds or thousands of years after its original deposition. In cases like these, the witness has seen something, but the mind extrapolates the vision into something else entirely.Coincidence accounted for nearly everything else and was simply a function of mathematical probability. As unlikely as an event might seem, as long as it is theoretically possible, it more than likely would happen sometime, somewhere, to someone. Take, for instance, Robert Morgan’s novel Futility, published in 1898—fourteen years before the Titanic sailed—which told the story of the largest and grandest passenger liner in existence that sailed on its maiden voyage from Southampton, only to be ripped apart by an iceberg, and whose rich and famous passengers were largely doomed in the icy North Atlantic because of a lack of lifeboats. The name of the ship, ironically, was Titan.But what happened here didn’t fall neatly into any of those categories. The lights struck Jeremy as neither fraud nor coincidence, and yet it wasn’t an honest mistake, either. There was a ready explanation somewhere, but as he sat in the cemetery in the rush of the moment, he had no idea what it could be.Through it all, Lexie had remained seated and hadn’t said a word. “Well?” she finally asked. “What do you think?”“I don’t know yet,” Jeremy admitted. “I saw something, that’s for sure.”“Have you ever seen anything like it?”“No,” he said. “Actually, this is the first time I’ve ever seen anything that even remotely struck me as mysterious.”“It is amazing, isn’t it?” she said, her voice soft. “I’d almost forgotten how pretty it could be. I’ve heard about the aurora borealis, and I’ve often wondered whether it looked like this.”Jeremy didn’t respond. In his mind’s eye, he re-created the lights, thinking that the way they’d risen in intensity reminded him of headlights of oncoming cars as they rounded a curve. They simply had to be caused by a moving vehicle of some sort, he thought. He looked toward the road, waiting for passing cars, but not completely surprised at their absence.Lexie let him sit in silence for a minute and could almost see the wheels turning. Finally, she leaned forward and poked him in the arm to get his attention again.“Well?” she asked. “What do we do next?”Jeremy shook his head, coming back to her.“Is there a highway around here? Or another major road?”“Just the one you came in on that runs through town.”“Huh,” he said, frowning.“What? No ‘ah’ this time?”“Not yet,” he said. “I’m getting there, though.” Despite the inky darkness, he thought he could see her smirking. “Why do I get the impression that you already know what’s causing them?”“I don’t know,” she said, playing coy. “Why do you?”“It’s just a feeling I get. I’m good at reading people. A guy named Clausen taught me his secrets.”She laughed. “Well, then, you already know what I think.”She gave him a moment to figure it out before she leaned forward. Her eyes looked darkly seductive, and though his mind should have been elsewhere, he again flashed on an image of her at the party and how beautiful she had been.“Don’t you remember my story?” she whispered. “It was my parents. They probably wanted to meet you.”Perhaps it was the orphaned tone she used when she said it— simultaneously sad and resilient—but as a tiny lump formed in his throat, it was all he could do not to take her in his arms right then and there, in the hope of holding her close forever.Half an hour later, after loading up the equipment, they arrived back at her house.Neither of them had said much on the way home, and when they reached her door, Jeremy realized that he’d spent far more time thinking about Lexie as he drove than he had about the lights. He didn’t want the evening to end, not yet.Hesitating before the door, Lexie brought a hand to her mouth, stifling a yawn before breaking into an embarrassed laugh.“Sorry about that,” she said. “I’m not normally up this late.”“It’s okay,” he said, meeting her gaze. “I had a great time tonight.”“So did I,” she said, meaning it.He took a small step forward, and when she realized he was thinking of trying to kiss her, she pretended to fiddle with something on her jacket.“I suppose I should call it a night, then,” she said, hoping he took the hint.“Are you sure?” he asked. “We could watch the tapes inside, if you’d like. Maybe you could help me figure out what the lights really are.”She looked away, her expression wistful.“Please don’t ruin this for me, okay?” she whispered.“Ruin what?”“This . . . everything . . .” She closed her eyes, trying to collect her thoughts. “Both you and I know why you want to come inside, but even if I wanted you to, I wouldn’t let you. So please don’t ask.”“Did I do something wrong?”“No. You didn’t do anything wrong. I had a great day, a wonderful day. Actually, it’s the best day I’ve had in a long time.”“Then what is it?”“You’ve been giving me the full-court press since you got here, and we know what’ll happen if I let you through that door. But you’re leaving. And when you do, I’ll be the one who’s hurt afterward. So why start something you have no intention of finishing?”With someone else, with anyone else, he would have said something flippant or changed the subject until he figured out another way to get through her door. But as he looked at her on the porch, he couldn’t form the words. Nor, strangely, did he want to.“You’re right,” he admitted. He forced a smile. “Let’s call it a night. I should probably go find out where those lights are coming from, anyway.”For a moment, she wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly, but when he took a small step backward, she caught his eye.“Thank you,” she said.“Good night, Lexie.”She nodded, and after an awkward pause, she turned toward the door. Jeremy took that as his signal to leave, and he stepped off the porch as Lexie took her keys from her jacket pocket. She was sliding the key into the door when she heard his voice behind her.“Hey, Lexie?” he called out.In the fog, he was nothing but a blur.“Yes?”“I know you may not believe it, but the last thing I want to do is hurt you or do anything that would make you regret that we’ve met.”Though she smiled briefly at his comment, she turned away without a word. The lack of response spoke volumes, and for the first time in his life, Jeremy was not only disappointed in himself but suddenly wished he were someone else entirely.

[Dalyia]

True BelieverElevenBirds were chirping, the fog had begun to thin, and a raccoon scurried across the bungalow porch when Jeremy’s cell phone rang. The harsh gray light of early morning passed through the torn curtains, smacking him in the eye like a prizefighter’s punch.A quick glance at the clock showed it was 8:00 a.m., way too early to talk to anyone, especially after pulling an all-nighter. He was getting too old for nights like that, and he winced before groping for the phone.“This better be important,” he grumbled.“Jeremy? Is that you? Where have you been? Why haven’t you called? I’ve been trying to reach you!”Nate, Jeremy thought, closing his eyes again. Good God, Nate.Meanwhile, Nate was going on. He had to be a long-lost relative of the mayor, Jeremy thought. Put these two in a room, hook them up to a generator while they talked, and they could power Brooklyn for a month.“You said you were going to keep in touch!”Jeremy forced himself to sit upright on the side of his bed, though his body was aching.“Sorry, Nate,” he said. “I’ve just been tied up, and the reception isn’t too good down here.”“You’ve got to keep me filled in! I tried calling you all day yesterday, but I kept getting put through to your voice mail. You can’t imagine what’s going on. I’ve got producers hounding me left and right, coming to me for ideas about what you might want to discuss. And things are really moving. One of them suggested that you do a piece on these high-protein diets. You know, the ones that tell you that it’s okay to eat all the bacon and steaks you want and still lose weight.”Jeremy shook his head, trying to keep up.“Wait? What are you talking about? Who wants me to talk about what diet?”“GMA. Who did you think I was talking about? Of course, I said I’d have to get back to them, but I think you’d be a natural at this.”The man sometimes gave Jeremy a headache, and he rubbed his forehead.“I have no interest in talking about a new diet, Nate. I’m a science journalist, not Oprah.”“So you put your own spin on it. That’s what you do, right? And diets have something to do with chemistry and science. Am I right or am I right? Hell, you know I’m right, and you know me—when I’m right, I’m right. And besides, I’m just tossing out ideas here—”“I saw the lights,” Jeremy interrupted.“I mean, if you have something better, then we can talk. But I’m flying blind here, and this diet thing might be a way to get your foot—”“I saw the lights,” Jeremy said again, raising his voice.This time Nate heard him. “You mean the lights in the cemetery?” he asked.Jeremy continued to rub his temples. “Yeah, those lights.”“When? Why didn’t you call me? This gives me something to run with. Oh, please tell me you got it on film.”“I did, but I haven’t seen the tapes yet, so I don’t know how they turned out.”“So the lights are for real?”“Yeah. But I think I found out where they’re coming from, too.”“So it’s not real . . .”“Listen, Nate, I’m tired, so listen for a second, will you? I went to the cemetery last night and saw the lights. And to be honest, I can see why some people consider them to be ghosts, because of the way they appear. There’s a pretty interesting legend attached to them, and the town even has a tour planned for the weekend to capitalize on it. But after I left the cemetery, I went looking for the source and I’m pretty sure I found it. All I have to do is figure out how and why it happens when it does, but I have some ideas about that, too, and hopefully, I’ll have it figured out by later today.”Nate, for a rare moment, had nothing to say. Like the trained professional he was, however, he recovered quickly.“Okay, okay, give me a second to figure out the best way to play this. I’m thinking of the television folks here . . .”Who else would he be thinking of? Jeremy wondered.“Okay, how’s this?” Nate was going on. “We open with the legend itself, sort of setting the scene. Misty cemetery, a close-up on some of the graves, maybe a quick shot of a black raven looking ominous, you talking in voice-over . . .”The man was the master of Hollywood clichés, and Jeremy glanced at the clock again, thinking it was way too early for this.“I’m tired, Nate. How about this? You think about it and let me know later, okay?”“Yeah, yeah. I can do that. That’s what I’m here for, right? To make your life easier. Hey, do you think I should call Alvin?”“I’m not sure yet. Let me see the tapes first, and then I’ll talk to Alvin, and we’ll see what he thinks.”“Right,” he said, his voice rising in enthusiasm. “Good plan, good idea! And this is great news! A genuine ghost story! They’re going to love this! I told you they were hot and heavy about the idea, didn’t I? Believe me, I told them you’d come through with this story and that you wouldn’t be interested in talking about the latest diet fad. But now that we have a bargaining chip, they’re going to go crazy. I can’t wait to tell them, and listen, I’ll be calling you in just a couple of hours, so make sure you keep your phone on. Things could be moving quickly . . .”“Good-bye, Nate. I’ll talk to you later.”Jeremy rolled back onto the bed and pulled the pillow over his head, but finding it impossible to fall back to sleep, he groaned as he got up and made his way to the bathroom, doing his best to ignore the stuffed creatures that seemed to be watching his every move. Still, he was getting used to them, and as he undressed, he hung his towel on the outstretched paws of a badger, thinking he might as well take advantage of the animal’s convenient pose.Hopping into the shower, he turned the water as far as it would go and stayed under the single jet for twenty minutes, until his skin was pruned. Only then did he begin to feel alive again. Sleeping less than two hours would do that to a person.After throwing on his jeans, he grabbed the tapes and got in his car. The fog hung over the road like evaporating dry ice on a concert stage, and the sky had the same ugly tones as it had the day before, making him suspect that the lights would appear again tonight, which not only boded well for the tourists this weekend but also meant that he should probably call Alvin. Even if the tapes were okay, Alvin was magic with a camera, and he’d capture images that would no doubt make Nate’s finger swell up from making frantic calls.His first step, though, was to see what he’d caught on camera, if only to see that he’d captured something. Not surprisingly, Greenleaf didn’t have a VCR, but he’d seen one in the rare-book room, and as he drove along the quiet road that led toward town, he wondered how Lexie would behave toward him when he got there. Would she go back to being distant and professional? Would the good feelings from their day together linger? Or would she simply remember their final moments on the porch, when he’d pushed too hard? He had no idea what was going to happen, even though he’d devoted much of the night to trying to figure it out.Sure, he’d found the source of the light. Like most mysteries, it wasn’t that hard to solve if you knew what to look for, and a quick check of a Web site sponsored by NASA eliminated the only other possibility. The moon, he’d learned, couldn’t have been responsible for the lights. It was, in fact, a new moon, when the moon was hidden by the earth’s shadow, and he had a sneaking suspicion that the mysterious lights only occurred in this particular phase. It would make sense: without moonlight, even the faintest traces of other light would become that much more obvious, especially when reflected in the water droplets of the fog.But as he’d stood in the chilly air with the answer within reach, all he could think about was Lexie. It seemed impossible that he’d only met her two days earlier. It made no sense. Of course, Einstein had postulated that time was relative, and he supposed that could explain it. How did the old saying about relativity go? A minute with a beautiful woman would pass in an instant, while a minute with your hand placed against a hot burner would feel like an eternity? Yeah, he thought, that was it. Or close, anyway.He again regretted his behavior on the porch, wishing for the hundredth time that he had taken her hint when he’d been thinking about kissing her. She’d made her feelings obvious and he’d ignored them. The regular Jeremy would have forgotten all about it already, shrugging the whole thing off as inconsequential. For some reason, this time it wasn’t so easy.Though he’d dated a lot and hadn’t exactly become a hermit after Maria had left him, he had seldom done the spend-thewhole-day-talking-with-someone thing. Usually, it was just dinner or drinks and enough flirtatious conversation to loosen the inhibitions before the good part. Part of him knew it was time to grow up when it came to dating, maybe even try to settle down and live the sort of life his brothers did. His brothers readily concurred, and so, of course, did their wives. They were of the widely shared opinion that he should get to know women before trying to sleep with them, and one had gone so far as to set him up on a date with a divorced neighbor who believed the same. Of course, she’d declined a second date, in large part because of the pass he’d made at her on the first. In the past few years, it just seemed easier to not get to know women too well, to keep them in the realm of perpetual strangers, when they could still project hope and potential on him.And that was the thing. There wasn’t hope or potential. At least, not for the sort of life his brothers and sisters-in-law believed in, or even, he suspected, the kind Lexie wanted. His divorce from Maria had proved that. Lexie was a small-town girl with small-town dreams, and it wouldn’t be enough to be faithful and responsible and to have things in common. Most women wanted something else, a way of life he couldn’t give them. Not because he didn’t want to, not because he was enamored of the bachelor scene, but simply because it was impossible. Science could answer a lot of questions, science could solve a lot of problems, but it couldn’t change his particular reality. And the reality was that Maria had left him because he hadn’t been, nor ever could be, the kind of husband she’d wanted.He admitted this painful truth to no one, of course. Not to his brothers, not to his parents, not to Lexie. And usually, even in quiet moments, not even to himself.Though the library was open by the time he got there, Lexie wasn’t in yet, and he felt a pang of disappointment when he pushed open the office door only to find the room empty. She’d been in earlier, though: the rare-book room had been left unlocked, and when he turned on the light, he saw a note on the desk, along with the topography maps he’d mentioned. The note took only an instant to read:I’m taking care of some personal things. Feel free to use the VCR. LexieNo mention of yesterday or last night, no mention of wanting to make arrangements to see him again. Not even an acknowledgment above the signature. It wasn’t exactly chilly as far as notes went, but it didn’t leave him with the warm fuzzies, either.Then again, he was probably reading too much into it. She might have been in a rush this morning, or she might have kept it short because she planned to be back soon. She did mention it was personal, and with women, that could mean anything from a doctor’s appointment to shopping for a friend’s birthday. There was just no way to tell.And besides, he had work to do, he told himself. Nate was waiting and his career was on the line. Jeremy forced himself to focus on chasing the tail end of the story.The audio recorders had picked up no unusual sounds, and neither the microwave nor the electromagnetic detector had registered the slightest energy variances. The videotapes, however, had picked up everything he’d seen the night before, and he watched the images half a dozen times from every different angle. The cameras with the special light-filtering capacity showed the glowing fog most vividly. Though the tapes might have been good enough to provide a small still to accompany his column, they were far from television quality. When viewed in real time, they had a sort of home-video feel to them, one that reminded him of cheesy tapes offered in proof of other supernatural events.He made a note to purchase a real camera, no matter how much celery his editor would eat because of it.But even if the tapes weren’t of the quality he’d hoped they would be, observing the way in which the lights had changed during the twenty-two seconds they were visible assured him again that he’d indeed found the answer. He popped the tapes out, perused the topography maps, and calculated the distance from Riker’s Hill to the river. He compared the earlier photographs he’d taken of the cemetery to photos of the cemetery he found in books about the town’s history, and came up with what he assumed to be a fairly accurate estimate regarding the rate that the cemetery was sinking. Though he wasn’t able to find any more information on the legend of Hettie Doubilet—the records from that period shed no light on the subject—he made a call to the state water bureau concerning the underground reservoir in this part of the state, and one to the department of mines, which had information on the quarries that had been dug earlier in the century. After that, he tapped a few words into a search engine of the Internet looking for the timetables he needed, and finally, after being put on hold for ten minutes, he spoke to a Mr. Larsen at the paper mill, who was eager to help in any way he could.And with that, all the pieces had finally come together in a way that he could definitively prove.The truth had been in front of everyone all along. Like most mysteries, the solution had been simple, and it made him wonder why no one had realized it before. Unless, of course, someone had, which opened the door to another angle on the story.Nate, no doubt, would be thrilled, but despite the morning’s success, Jeremy felt little sense of accomplishment. Instead, all he thought about was the fact that Lexie wasn’t around to either congratulate or tease him about it. Honestly, he didn’t care how she’d react as long as she was here to react, and he rose from his seat to check her office again.For the most part, it looked the same as it had the day before. Stacks of documents were still piled on her desk, books were scattered haphazardly, and the screen saver on her computer was etching and erasing colorful drawings. The answering machine, flashing with messages, sat next to a small potted plant.Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that without Lexie, the room may as well have been completely empty.