Shit. The Alumni Dinner: a semiformal affair held at Dylan’s home. Several prior Camp Durand counselors and present-day successful Durand executives were invited in order to meet the current counselor class. Word had it, a few key words from an influential alumni could make or break a counselor’s career at Durand. Alice had known about the event—in theory, anyway—since she’d first received her Camp Durand informational packet upon being hired as a counselor. But with everything going on, her second official visit to Castle Durand had always seemed far off in the future.
“Did you forget about it?” Dylan asked her when she didn’t immediately respond, because her brain had started spinning in that increasingly familiar vortex. It would be so strange, to walk in the halls of Castle Durand as though she were only vaguely familiar with them . . . to treat Dylan like the distant top boss who was too far out of her sphere to be considered even an acquaintance.
“No,” she lied. “Are you concerned about it?”
“Not it. You,” he said with his typical succinctness. “Did everything go all right today?”
She frowned upon hearing the cautious tone in his voice.
“It was a perfectly normal day—all except for that whole incident in the woods,” she added darkly under her breath.
“Insert my apology here? Is that what you’re waiting for?” he asked, humor tingeing his tone. She just scowled into the darkness.
“Okay, I guess neither of us is going to fall over apologizing at the moment. I don’t expect you to apologize to me for running off into the woods alone today.” Alice rolled her eyes and made a disgusted sound, which Dylan ignored. “On another note, I’ve made an appointment for you at Morgantown Memorial for a blood test. It’s for four o’clock on Saturday afternoon. I’ll take you over to the hospital. Dr. Shineburg will transfer all the samples to a specialist clinic in Chicago for the actual genetic testing. It takes four to six weeks to get the results, so we might as well get things started.”
She remained silent, but perhaps he noticed her tension because he began stroking her upper arm and shoulder.
“Have you changed your mind about the testing?”
“No. I want to do it. I want to know for certain.”
“Then what are you thinking about?”
“Dylan, why are you so worried about me? I can understand why you have been in the past, but why now?”
“Do you mean why did I come to the woods today, when Rigo told me Jim Sheridan was there? You’re still waiting for me to defend myself?”
“I think I deserve an explanation, yes.”
Again, he didn’t speak.
“Dylan?”
“Jim was the sheriff of Morgantown when Addie Durand was kidnapped,” he began slowly. “He’s supported me over the years . . . encouraged me not to give up in looking for Addie.”
She lay still, absorbing not only his words, but trying to decode what he wasn’t saying.
“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” she asked.
“Of course it is. I don’t know what I would have done without him.”
“So why did you come out to the woods and jump all over him? I thought you were friends.”
“Jim is a good cop. Excellent, in fact. Last night, he noticed how tense I was. Around you,” he added after a pause. “He went out to see you today, because he sensed something was going on with me. He was digging for answers.”
“You were surly last night when that alarm went off,” Alice mumbled, uncomfortably aware she was skirting the relevant topic. She frowned into the darkness, attempting to firm her resolve. “You can’t be thinking that Jim Sheridan actually was connecting last night to Addie Durand. Connecting me to Addie Durand,” she added reluctantly.
“What if he did? I told you, he’s an excellent cop. He likely noticed the similarity between you and Lynn.”
She started. “I look like Lynn Durand?” That seemingly casual statement felt like a little bomb had gone off in her.
“Yes. It seems like you do a little more every day.”
“What do you mean?”
“As your hair grows and lightens and you give up on some of the heavy eye makeup,” he replied gruffly, and she sensed his distraction. “My point is, are you ready to answer Jim Sheridan’s questions? Are you ready to have the FBI notified, and deal with the ramifications of them coming here to finally close a twenty-year-old investigation?”
“No,” she exclaimed, alarm making her jerk up and turn partially toward Dylan.