She beamed. “Perfect. Thank you, Doctor. I know I can always count onyou.”
“I know I can always count on you, Doctor,” Con tittered after Lena had walked away. He snorted. “You’re such a pushover,Jules.”
“He’s dedicated to his work,” Jamie said, although his smile suggested he didn’t totally disagree with Con. For that matter, neither did I. But Jesus, I hated feeling like I was letting anyonedown.
I blew out a breath. Dr. Julian Ross, dedicated, professional pushover. I wasn’t proud of it. Sometimes I wondered when the hell I was going to push things down too much and finally snap, tell the world to fuck off and take a stand for whatIwanted.
Clearly, today was not gonna be that day. Tomorrow didn’t look promisingeither.
“I know something that’ll cheer you up.” Shane Goode was standing near Jamie’s shoulder, wiping his hands on his apron and chatting to Silas Sloane, one of O’Leary’s three police officers; Si’s boyfriend Everett Maior; Ev’s grandfather Henry Lattimer; Dare Turner, a local ranger; and a bunch of others at the table next to us. His voice was too loud for anyone in the diner to pretend they couldn’t overhear. “Karen Mitchener-Martin, Angela Ross, and Ms. Dorian were in here earlier, and they said there’s been a break in Elliot Marks’s disappearance. You don’t have to be afraidanymore.”
Con and I exchanged a look as our mother’s name was mentioned. For the past couple weeks, the entire town had been buzzing about the disappearance of a camper visiting the area, followed by the disappearance of Elliot Marks, one of the ranger-types who worked with Dare at the state park bordering O’Leary. The suspicions whispered across the frozen food aisles at the Imperial and under the dryer bonnets at Marybeth’s salon, involving everything from alien abductions to drug smuggling cartels, were terrifyingly ridiculous, but with one common theme—there was nowayanyone local could have beeninvolved.
To be honest, I had trouble believing it,myself.
“Ms. Dorian said there was a camera outside a store near Elliot’s apartment building,” Shane was saying. “Showed a tall, blond guy walking in, and that’s the suspect. She said it was obviously that new guy, DanielWhatshisname.”
“Wait, what?” I whispered, the words punched from my gut. “DanielMichaelson?”
“Eh. Just more speculation,” Con reminded me, licking the tines of his fork like he hadn’t consumed enough syrup. “Hardly surprising. You know Mama and her ladies got all offended that the guy brushed them off when they tried to send out the welcome wagons. She doesn’t likehim.”
“She doesn’tknowhim,” I saidhotly.
“Oh, and you do?” Consmirked.
I opened my mouth, then closedit.
“Wait.” Con’s eyes narrowed. “Doyou?”
I felt my cheeks get hot. For a few months now, I’d considered Daniel not only a friend, but mybestfriend.
“Jesus, Jules, you’re a dark horse.” Con’s grin expanded. “Tell me all abouthim!”
I shook my head, my heart beating hard. This—this—was exactly why I hadn’t told anyone that Daniel and I were friends. This was why I let my mother and brothers believe that I spent every evening alone, and my weekends hiking by myself. If I mentioned him, they’d want to knoweverything.They’d want to meet him and pelt him with questions about everything from his shoe size to his thoughts on global warming. And when he didn’t answer—because he wouldn’t—they’d start questioningmeabout why I bothered hanging around with him. I had no desire to defend myfriendship.
“He’s not a criminal,” I whispered. “That much I can tell you forsure.” There was no way the man I’d spent so many hours of quiet conversation with, the man who’d brought me injured animals to save and books to read, was involved in anything criminal. “Unless wanting to be left alone is acrime.”
Con tilted his head. “You remember we’re in O’Leary, right? I wouldn’t be surprised if therewassome town bylaw against solitude.” He smiled, but I couldn’t. “Chill, Jules. Nobody’s got pitchforks out, yet. But if he makes zero effort to get to know anyone, don’t be surprised that no one is automatically thinking the best ofhim.”
Con wasn’twrong.
Jess Siegel at Lyon’s Imperial had asked Daniel where he was from, and he’d answered tersely, “The city.” Coach Simms had asked him what he did for a living, and Daniel had said, “I work from home.” Henry Lattimer had asked him if he had a family, and Daniel had replied, “Everyone’s from someplace,” which was obscure enough that Henry’s girlfriend, Diane, somehow became convinced that Daniel was literally from a town called Someplace and asked him what state that wasin.
Yes,seriously.
EvenIhad gotten politely but unequivocally shut down when I tried to pry the basic facts of his life from him, and unless he and Jenny at the Laundromat were having a torrid affair that I didn’t know about, I was the one person he was close to in this town, though he’d been here since lastwinter.
“Excuse me,” I asked, leaning around Jamie. “Did you say they’re accusing Daniel Michaelson of being involved in thedisappearances?”
“No.” Si shook his headvigorously.
“Nobody's accusing anyone of anything,” Dare said, holding up his hands. “Karen Mitchener-Martin's spreading rumors.Again.”
I nodded, but my heart wouldn’t resume its normalrhythm.
“I heard he lives in the woods because he’s not right in the head!” someone behind meyelled.
“What?” I demanded,horrified.
