Fire? Gemma thought and many images of forest fires ran through her head. “Are you all right? Can I help?”
“I’m fine. No, stay there. I have to go. They need the phone. I’ll be back when I can. Okay?”
“Yes,” she said, then heard the phone click off. She stood where she was for a moment. So this is what it was like when you cared about a law enforcement man.
She went to the TV and turned it on. It took her a moment to find a channel with local news, but there the fire was, roaring across trees, destroying everything in its path.
She spent an hour watching, saw film of women at a table passing out food and drinks to firefighters and she saw Mrs. Frazier and Rachel. But she didn’t see Colin.
She had to make herself return to work, but she left the TV on with muted sound. Whenever anything about the fire came on, she listened.
It took great effort on her part to give her mind back to her research.
As she looked at the massive amount of data around her, she tried to figure out where to begin. The logical way would be to start with the oldest documents and come forward. But Colin was right in that what truly interested her was his Heartwishes story. She hadn’t realized it, but she’d been thinking of her dissertation while she worked. “The Origin of a Family Myth” was one title she’d thought of. “Myth and Reality in one Family” was another. “The Didacticism of a Myth.” She must have come up with fifty titles, all of them centered around the Frazier Heartwishes.
She opened the refrigerator, saw that most of the food Rachel had prepared was gone, and knew she needed to go to the grocery. Besides, she wanted to hear what the locals knew about the fire.
She looked at her watch, saw that it was a little after four. Maybe if she drove into town—in the car she’d not yet used—she could stop by his office and ask his deputy what she knew. The keys were by the back door and the Volvo was in the carport. It was a pretty car with dark blue upholstery. It took her a few minutes to orient herself to the buttons on the car before she pulled out.
Every time she’d gone to the guesthouse she’d passed the main house, but now she saw that there was a narrow gravel drive out the back and she followed it. To the left was the Frazier house, but Gemma turned right and ended up on McDowell Avenue, which led her to downtown Edilean.
She parked under some trees across from the grassy little square, got out, locked the car, then stood and looked. Now what? she thought. She had no idea where Colin’s office was.
“Hi, Gemma,” said a voice behind her.
Turning, she saw one of the women she’d met in the grocery. In a stroller was the little girl she and Colin had held. Gemma went to the child. “How are you, Caitlyn?” she asked, and the girl smiled happily. Gemma tried to remember if she’d heard the mother’s name.
“I hear you have a date with Dr. Tris.”
“Sort of,” Gemma said cautiously. She felt that the invitation from Tris was more about friendship than an actual date, but she didn’t say that.
“Every unmarried woman in town has tried to get him to ask her out, so what did you do to entice him?”
Gemma wasn’t sure how to answer that. “I don’t know. I think maybe his niece got him to ask me.”
The woman smiled. “I can believe that. He adores Nell.” Little Caitlyn began to grow restless. “I have to go, but maybe we can have lunch sometimes.”
“Yeah, sure,” Gemma said as the woman waved good-bye.
Smiling, Gemma crossed the street to the square. She stood under the big oak tree and looked around.
Across the road, she saw stores, all of them obviously under some historic code for their façades, so their signs were barely visible. There was a drugstore and several unbelievably cute little boutiques that s
old toys, children’s clothing, outdoor gear, body products, a jewelry store called “Kim’s,” and a shop full of old maps and prints.
On the corner was a door and a window with DR. TRISTAN ALDREDGE written in dark green letters. Beside it was a tall, narrow brick building with SHERIFF written over the door. Gemma looked up and saw the small windows on the second floor. She smiled as she remembered Colin’s description of his dark, smelly apartment.
She crossed the street to the office. An old-fashioned bell rang when she opened the door. Inside were two big oak desks, the kind a person saw in an old black-and-white western starring Henry Fonda.
On the far wall was a glass-doored case full of rifles, looking ready to be used if anyone tried to get the bad guy out of jail.
“You’re Gemma,” said a voice to her right.
She turned to see a tall woman, early thirties, with sleek black hair pulled into a bun at the nape of her neck. She wore a brown uniform that fit her athletic body perfectly. The heavy black belt around her small waist was filled with leather pockets, one of them containing a handgun.
“Oh,” Gemma said, surprised that the woman knew who she was. “Did Colin—” She cut herself off. “YouTube.”
“Right. Pretty heroic stunt for a civilian.”