by Nancy Mehl
I surveyed the large oak dining table, loaded with platters of bacon, sausage, eggs, pancakes, fried potatoes, biscuits, gravy, and jam.
“I hope you’re expecting a lot of company for breakfast. There’s enough food here for twenty people.”
She waved her hand at me dismissively. “I love to cook. Sometimes I ask my friends over for dinner, but I don’t get to cook breakfast very often. This is a treat for me.”
She pointed toward a chair, and I sat down, wondering how in the world I could make a dent in the huge feast.
“Wow. Something smells great.”
Zac came into the room, his eyes wide with surprise. I hoped he was a big eater. If not, we would probably disappoint our hostess.
“You sit here, Zac,” Esther said, pointing to a chair across from me. “I’ll get some coffee and be right back.”
“You’d better be hungry,” I whispered to him. “I’m not really a breakfast eater.”
“We’re both going to have to rise to the challenge,” he said. “We can’t hurt her feelings.”
I looked at him with surprise. “Since when did you start caring about anyone in this town?”
He grunted. “I like Esther. She’s a good person.” He picked up a napkin from the table and put it in his lap. “By the way. We need to talk.”
“About what?”
Zac glared at me. “About why we’re here when Ed told you to take Sanctuary off our list.”
My mouth went dry. How could he know? Ed certainly wouldn’t have shared information like that with a photog. Esther saved me from coming up with a response when she reentered the room carrying a carafe.
“Here, let me get that,” Zac said, getting up from his seat.
“Thank you, Zac. It is a little heavy.”
My mouth almost dropped open in surprise. I caught myself just in time. Zac had manners? Who knew?
Zac put the carafe down while Esther perused the table.
“I hope I didn’t forget anything,” she said softly.
He smiled. “Just more people to eat it all.”
“I know I overdid it, but I wanted your first breakfast in Sanctuary to be a good one.”
I nodded, but my mind was still focused on Zac’s revelation. What should I tell him? How could I explain?
Esther sat down and folded her hands. “Would you like to say grace, Zac?”
My dumbfounded photog turned red. “Uh, I don’t really . . . I mean, I’m not sure how . . .”
“I understand,” Esther said. “What about you, Wynter? Do you pray?”
“Sure,” I said, sounding more confident than I felt. It had been a while, but I gave it my best shot, asking God to bless our food and the woman who had welcomed us into her home. During my prayer, I snuck a sideways glance at Zac. His eyes were wide open and fixed on me. I almost stumbled over my words and had to force myself to concentrate.
“Thank you, dear,” Esther said when I finished. “Now, both of you help yourself.”
I spooned some scrambled eggs onto my plate, along with a couple of sausages and a helping of fried potatoes. Zac got a little of everything.
“This is delicious,” I said after a couple of bites. “My mother used to make big breakfasts on the weekends, but that was before . . .” I choked back my words. I’d almost said before my brother disappeared.
“Before what, dear?” Esther said.
“Before . . . my parents’ divorce.”
Esther shook her head. “I am so sorry, Wynter. That must have been very hurtful for you.”
“You get over it. Life goes on.”
“But children need . . .” Esther was interrupted by a loud knocking on her front door. “Oh my,” she said, getting up. “I can’t imagine who that could be.”
As she hurried off, Zac pointed at me. “We’re not finished. I want to know what’s going on.”
Angry voices stopped any further conversation. Martha, the lady from the library, burst into the room, her face crimson and her expression angry. Reuben trailed behind her.
“There you are,” Martha sputtered. “I should never have told you to come here. This is all my fault. I can’t believe you could do something so . . . heinous.”
I stood to my feet. “What in the world are you talking about?”
Martha stomped over to the table, a laptop in her hands. “There’s the evidence right there. Proof that you’re trying to ruin our town.”
I gazed down at the small screen and saw a picture. Upon closer inspection, I realized it was taken in Sanctuary. It was a photo taken out on the street, and it included several individuals. Their faces were clearly visible. I clicked over to several more candid shots of Sanctuary residents. People who obviously had no idea they were being photographed.
“Where did these come from?” I asked, flabbergasted. “I’ve never seen them before. We certainly didn’t take them.”
“Oh, really?” Martha snapped. “Just look.” She reached over and scrolled down, revealing the sender’s e-mail address.
“That’s the station’s address.” I shook my head. “I’m totally confused. I had nothing to do with this. I didn’t even bring my camera.”
Martha scrolled down again and pointed at the e-mail message. “This is clearly a response from someone at your station confirming they received the photographs you sent. They say they just cc’d the library so you would be sure to get the information. Thank goodness they did, or you would have gotten away with it!”
It was true that I’d e-mailed Martha several times before coming to Sanctuary. It would make sense for someone at the station to copy an important message and send it to the library, since, as far as they knew, it was my only contact here. But how would that even happen? Ed had told us to forget Sanctuary, so he wouldn’t have done it. Could it have come from someone else? It was highly unlikely. The only other person at the station who knew about Sanctuary was Megan, and this message hadn’t come from her. She would have used her own e-mail account—and she would have included a personal note. Of course, even if I could figure out a way it could have happened—it didn’t matter, since I hadn’t sent the pictures in the first place. It was clear that someone was out to sabotage our efforts.
“Look, I have no idea what’s going on, but I had nothing to do with this. As I said, I didn’t even bring my camera.”
“Well, I know you have a phone,” Martha said. “I saw you using it.”
“Of course I have a phone, but I didn’t take any photos with it.”
“Do you know where it is?” Reuben asked.
I shrugged. “I assume it’s in my room. I haven’t looked.”
“Can you get it?”
“Sure.” I wasn’t sure what he was thinking, but I hurried up the stairs. After a brief search, I found my phone on the floor next to the nightstand. That explained why I’d missed seeing it last night. I grabbed it and went back downstairs. No one was talking as I entered the room. Martha still looked angry, Reuben’s expression was solemn, and Zac looked bored.
I held up my phone. “I found it. It fell on the floor. That’s why I didn’t put it in my purse last night.”
“Did you check it for pictures?” Reuben asked.
I frowned at him. “Of course not. Why would I?”
“Humor me,” he said. “Take a look.”
I sighed and brought up my pictures. My mouth dropped open. There they were. The same pictures that were sent to the library.
“I . . . I don’t understand,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. I looked over at Reuben. “You have my word. I didn’t take these. And I certainly didn’t—” Suddenly something occurred to me. I pulled up a list of the last numbers I’d dialed. Triumphantly, I handed the phone to Reuben. “I didn’t make any calls to the station yesterday at all. This proves I had nothing to do with those photos.”
“Then why are they on your phone?” Martha said slowly. Her expression was celebratory, as if she’d caught me in a lie. “Are you saying someon
e stole your phone and snapped these pictures? That’s pretty farfetched, isn’t it?”
All I could do was nod. I knew how it sounded. “I have no idea how it happened, but someone is certainly going out of their way to cause trouble.”
“No one in Sanctuary would do such a thing,” Martha said with a sniff, her nose in the air.
“Well, it seems very convenient. You want us out of town, and these shots show up on your laptop. Odd, isn’t it?”
Martha’s already red face deepened until I began to worry about her blood pressure. If she had a stroke, I’d probably be blamed for that too.
“That’s a lie. I would never—”
“Okay, that’s enough,” Reuben said. “We need to sort this out calmly.” He put his hand on Martha’s shoulder. “The important thing is that no one is going to get the chance to use these pictures.” He looked at me. “Can you get rid of them? Make sure they don’t go any further?”
“I’m not sure where they came from, but I assure you it’ll be taken care of. If anyone from the station actually did see them, I’ll instruct them to delete them immediately.”
Reuben nodded. “Thank you. But before we proceed with your story, we need to have a serious talk. If we can’t find a way to ensure people’s privacy, we’ll have to call this whole thing off.”
“I understand. I really do. But you have my word. I’m not behind this.”
Reuben studied the pictures closely. “I believe you. If these pictures really were taken with your phone, you couldn’t have done it. First of all, as you said, you didn’t have your phone last night. But even if you had, you didn’t leave the restaurant until after dark. These were taken while it was still light.” He straightened up. “You’re definitely being set up.” He pointed at the irate librarian. “Martha, go back to the library—and don’t spread this around. I mean it.”
She straightened her back and glared at him. “People have a right to know what’s going on.”
“Normally I would agree. But if word of this gets out, we might not be able to figure out who’s behind it. And I want to know.”
Martha started to protest, but he shook his head.
“Not now. You know me, Martha. I won’t let anyone hurt this town. Especially not for a story that doesn’t really need to be told. But someone took those pictures. Then they made sure you saw them. Obviously they didn’t care if they threatened our peace of mind or put this sanctuary at risk. In my mind, they’re more of a problem than these nice people.” He nodded toward Zac and me. Esther, who had been quiet since Martha stormed in with her computer, added her agreement.
“I believe that is very wise counsel, Reuben,” she said. “Deceit and manipulation should not be taken lightly.”
Esther’s words were like a knife in my heart. I hadn’t been honest with anyone since I’d stepped foot in Sanctuary. Whoever took those pictures wasn’t alone in their attempt to manipulate these good people.
“Go on back to the library, Martha,” Reuben admonished.
Although it was obvious she wasn’t happy with this turn of events, Martha grabbed her computer and stormed out of the house.
Reuben sat quietly for a moment before taking a deep breath and staring at me, an odd look on his face. “There is only one person who could have done this, Wynter. You know who that is, don’t you?”
It took me only a few seconds to realize the truth. “You’re right.” We both turned our heads to stare at the person sitting next to Esther. “It’s you,” I said. “You did this, Zac.”
Chapter
Seven
“Denying it won’t work.”
We sat alone at the dining room table. Reuben had already left, asking me to call him later. Esther had excused herself to clean the kitchen so Zac and I could be alone.
“You can’t prove—”
“Stop it. It had to be you. I have no choice but to send you back to the station.”
He glowered at me. “But then Ed will find out the truth. That you went to Sanctuary after he told you not to. We seem to have a standoff here.”
I sighed and put my head in my hands, thinking. There was no way I could leave yet. But how could I stay and still keep my job? I had no choice. There was only one thing left to do.
“Okay, Zac. I’m going to tell you the truth. Why I’m really here. After I’m done, I want you to explain why you felt the need to take those pictures and try to sabotage this story.”
He shrugged. “Whatever.”
I took a deep breath, praying I wasn’t making a mistake I couldn’t rectify. “When I was thirteen years old, my seven-year-old brother disappeared. At first, my parents thought he’d been kidnapped and was being held for ransom. We were rather wealthy back then. My father owned a large mortgage banking company. So they waited for a phone call. It never came. Then the bodies of young boys stared popping up about fifty miles away from where we lived in Chicago. The police were convinced the same serial killer took Ryan, even though his body was never recovered. My father believes he’s dead. That was almost ten years ago. For years after he went missing, I woke up with nightmares. Terrible dreams where he was calling to me, and I was trying to find him.”
“No one ever mentioned this at work,” Zac said, his voice heavy with skepticism. “Seems something like that would be common knowledge at a news station.”
“Ed knows. I told him when I first came to work at KDSM. He’s never revealed the truth to anyone. When I got out of college, I changed my name from Emily Erwin to Wynter Evans. I got a new name because . . . well, I needed a fresh start. A new identity. I didn’t want to be known as the girl whose brother was kidnapped. Can you understand that?”
“I guess. But what does that have to do with Sanctuary?”
“I . . . I saw a picture, Zac. Of a young man who looks a lot like Ryan. He’s here. In Sanctuary.” I held my hands up as a sign of surrender. “It’s very possible I’m deluding myself. Everyone else gave up on Ryan years ago. But I . . . I just can’t. I still have those dreams. I still hear him calling me. How can I ignore that?”
“Wow.” Zac’s normally insolent expression softened. “You said your father gave up on your brother. What about your mother?”
“We don’t talk to her about Ryan. She had a breakdown after he went missing. My father couldn’t deal with it, and they split up. Losing Ryan destroyed my family. My father and I rarely speak, and my mother . . . well, we’re close, but it’s not the same. She’s better now, but when we’re together, it feels like someone’s missing. We remind each other of Ryan, I guess.”
“I-I’m sorry, Wynter. I had no idea.”
“I appreciate that. But now I need the truth from you. Why did you take those pictures and send them to the station?”
He sighed. “Because I’m a selfish idiot.” He stood up and walked over to the window behind us. “Missy Spencer told me that if I ruined this story for you, she’d make sure I got all the plush assignments at the station. I took those pictures yesterday, sent them to the station and then called and asked them to copy the library so we’d know they received them.”
“I can’t believe you’d actually do something like that.”
He turned back toward me. “Well, believe it. Missy knows you’re being considered for the anchor chair. She wanted to knock you out of the running. She figured if you blew this story, she’d become Ed’s first choice.”
“I knew she hated me, but I had no idea she’d go to these lengths.”
Zac came over and sat down again. “I should have told her to take a hike, but it seemed like a smart career move. Somehow, I lost sight of the fact that you’re a human being with feelings and . . . problems.” He shook his head. “You may not believe this, but I was raised to care about people. My mother . . .” He cleared his throat and looked away for a moment. After a deep sigh he said, “My mother is a Christian. She tried to teach me to put other people first. Guess I didn’t listen.”
“But you said you hated being arou
nd religious people.”
“It’s a long story, and this isn’t the time for it. The important thing is that we’re finally being honest with each other. And I’d like to help you, Wynter. Really. No more tricks, I promise. I’m sorry for being such a jerk. It’s not who I really am.”
“I don’t know if what you did can be fixed, Zac.”
“I sent the pictures to a friend of mine, Amy, another photog. After she sent the e-mail, I called her and asked her to dump the pictures and delete the e-mails. I didn’t want this thing to be traced back to me. That’s when I found out we weren’t even supposed to be here.”
“What if she tells Ed?”
He shook his head. “She won’t. We keep each other’s secrets.”
“I hope you’re right,” I said. “I won’t leave Sanctuary until I know for certain that young man isn’t my brother.”
Zac stared silently at me for a moment. “Wynter,” he said finally, “if Ed knows the truth about your past, wouldn’t he understand why you need to be here?”
“When he hired me, I promised to put the past behind me. Ed made it clear he wasn’t looking for someone who was so wrapped up in her own story that she couldn’t be trusted to put the interests of the station first. You know Ed.” I lowered my voice. “‘The story comes first. It’s all about the story.’”
My attempt at sounding like Ed made Zac smile. “But you have a real lead. That should make a difference.”
“No, I don’t. I’ve found a boy who looks somewhat like my brother. That’s it. I have no reason to believe he’s Ryan. This is probably an exercise in futility. It’s just . . .” I bit my lip, unwilling to continue.
“That you have to know.”
I nodded. “I intend to proceed very carefully. I’m not looking to destroy my career. Nor do I want to cause these nice people any trouble. I need to do some digging. Some investigative reporting. I’ve done it before for a story. Now I’m doing it for myself. If I find out this teenager, this Elijah, isn’t Ryan, we’ll finish the story, head out of here, and get back to the station. No harm, no foul.”
“But how long can we remain in Sanctuary before Ed gets suspicious?”
