“You can fill out hours for today, Ruby,” Dana said.
And then she turned around and walked out of the room, leaving Ruby alone in her dusty sanctuary. She was feeling... Well, like she had made a very good decision. She had just been left alone in a room filled with records. Archives. Journals. Records. Historical clothing. And it was her job. She was getting paid to spend the day going through all these things. Meticulously combing through and putting them in order. Building stories from them that would make them accessible to the public. Giving other people the insight into history that Ruby had.
She walked over to the bookshelves, and she didn’t know where to begin.
December 23, 2000.
The date seemed to hit her brain and stick.
Her day.
Not her birthday. Her Found Day.
She never celebrated her birthday in December. They didn’t know the exact date and they’d arbitrarily assigned her December 21, but it was too close to Christmas, and since it was an estimated birthdate anyway, she’d always preferred to take a half birthday. So she could have a whole week of celebrations and free birthday coffee and cookies at the store that did it, when she was not already stuffed full of Christmas cookies.
But the day she was found...
That always resonated. No matter what.
No. She did not need to look at her day. Anyway, she’d read that newspaper article. A hundred times. Her mother had saved all of them.
Maybe. But what about other records? Other information?
What if there was more? She might have saved the article, but she didn’t have the entire newspaper. What else had happened that day?
No. She really couldn’t start her job doing something self-serving. Anyway, she didn’t want to.
The Legend of Ruby McKee was well-worn and overtold in the town of Pear Blossom. And Ruby knew it best of all.
She got up and made her way over to the wardrobe. And opened it. The garments were stored in bags, and she unzipped the first one, pulling out a beautiful muslin dress with pin tucks around the dropped waist. There was another in a beautiful calico. And a rich green-and-purple plaid. She found a fur and a matching muff.
She went over to the computer and sat down, tapping on it and waiting for it to wake up. And once it did, she started searching different shops. That would be an interesting display. The history of fashion in Pear Blossom. In the whole of the West. How it was shaped by where people came from. She felt that she had her first solid idea.
She found ads for different fabrics and trims. And that led her on a rabbit trail, down to digitized Sears and Roebuck catalogs from the late 1800s.
She got up and began to peruse the shelves. And found some hard copies of the catalogs. She opened the first one and began to flip through the pages. It was remarkably well preserved. From March 1901. The catalog had everything. It boasted the latest in home conveniences, ads for electric lights and indoor plumbing apparatus. Victrolas. Stereoscopes. Clothing, fabric. Even houses. It made her smile. This sort of remote shopping that was so popular now was nothing new.
Her stomach didn’t growl until five o’clock. She hadn’t realized that she’d been sitting here that long. Hadn’t realized that she’d gotten so lost in looking at everything. But she’d always been like that.
She went over to the files. There were police records. Stretching back to the 1860s. And newer...
She found the bundle that was labeled December 2000.
She grabbed hold of that file, and then the one for January 2001.
She’d never had a look at actual police reports from either Caitlin’s disappearance or her appearance. And it made her feel... Like she was being slightly nosy when it came to digging into Caitlin, because of Dana, but...
She was curious.
Emerging from the room and out into the hallway startled her. Because she hadn’t realized how dim it was in there. But there was only one window for the whole large room, and as a result the large windows that lined the hall made her feel like a bemused bat emerging from a cave before its time. She nearly ran into Dana, who was halfway up the stairs when she was going down. “I was just coming to get you. I’m ready to leave and lock up. I won’t have a copy of keys for you until Monday.”
“That’s okay,” she said, feeling slightly edgy and a bit like she’d been caught, even though she was allowed to look at whatever she wanted. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
Dana always pushed off overly friendly gestures, but Ruby had always wondered if she secretly liked them.
“I know. You’re always telling me what I don’thaveto do, Dana. I don’t listen—you know that.”