Hidden Falls

by Newport, Olivia

  “Unless what?”

  “Never mind.” Sylvia held up a red silk dress. “I would think this one would do well in your sale.”

  Lauren knelt beside her aunt and let the silk of the shirred skirt slide between her fingers. “Aunt Sylvia, why didn’t you ever marry Quinn?”

  “He never asked me.” Sylvia folded a straight black skirt and balanced it on the edge of the open box.

  Quinn was at Sylvia’s side during holidays and family events all through Lauren’s childhood and youth, in the days when the extended family gathered. She saw the glances that passed between them and the thoughtfulness of the gifts they exchanged. In many ways their intimacy was more profound than the interactions Lauren observed in most married couples.

  “If he had asked, you would have said yes?”

  Sylvia didn’t meet her niece’s eye. “Yes, I would have.”

  Maybe you still would, Lauren thought. Surely in all the passing years Sylvia had other opportunities. She must have known other young men who would have jumped at the chance to live out their days with a generous, compassionate, capable woman like Sylvia. How many of them had she turned away after the first date because they were not Quinn?

  Lauren reached for Sylvia’s hand, stilling its wrestling with a crinoline-lined skirt. “I can’t imagine what you must be going through these last few days.”

  “Quinn’s absence is hard on all of us.”

  “But especially you.”

  Sylvia leaned back on her heels. “When Quinn gets back, he will be so glad to know you went ahead with the health fair.”

  Lauren hoped so.

  Mostly she hoped Quinn would come back soon, or at least let someone know where he was. Lauren decided to take the red silk and vacillated between the sheer lace over blue satin and a pearl gray she suspected was cashmere.

  “What about you?” Sylvia asked. “Do you hope to meet someone? Cooper Elliott cuts a dashing figure in his dress uniform.”

  Lauren tried very hard not to blush.

  “I have a good life, Aunt Sylvia. I’m not unhappy on my own.” Lauren had her moments of envy when she saw couples—like Ethan and Nicole, who had returned to their inseparable status in the last few days. Did they have any idea of how rare the bond they had was? But Lauren meant what she said to Sylvia. She enjoyed her life in Hidden Falls and working at the church and meeting people like Molly and Christopher.

  “I feel the same,” Sylvia said. “I wouldn’t trade a moment of the happiness I’ve known.”

  Lauren leaned over and kissed her aunt’s cheek. “I think I’ll take these three.” She put her final selections in the empty box.

  “I’ll get them dry-cleaned tomorrow and have them ready first thing Saturday morning,” Sylvia said. “Now, can I give you a ride into town?”

  “I need to go to the community center.” Lauren folded the flaps of the box down. “My bike is there.”

  In the car, Lauren described her encounter with Molly and Christopher and the reason she’d left her bike at the community center. When Lauren got out of the car, Sylvia stayed long enough to make sure the headlamp on the bike worked and that Lauren’s helmet still hung from the handlebars.

  Lauren never minded riding in the evening any more than she minded walking after dark. She strapped her cross-body bag to the back of the bike and pushed off. Her apartment was her eventual destination, but right now she wanted to pedal as hard as she could and feel the rush of air against her face. She rode north through the stately neighborhood west of downtown, where she knew she would encounter little traffic, and toward the edge of the cemetery. From there she could follow a well-lit road back toward Main Street.

  When her phone rang, Lauren braked. Trying to grab the call before it went into voice mail, she didn’t look at the number on the screen. She expected it would be Benita Booker with a report on her accomplishments of the day.

  Lauren heard city noises—the hiss of bus brakes, a car horn, a street musician. This definitely didn’t sound like Hidden Falls.

  The call cut out. It was the same number as that morning and two days ago.

  Had he left town that day? Was he going to torment her all over again, just like in high school? Lauren jammed her phone back in her pocket. She didn’t have a landline. Everyone called her on this number. Changing numbers would be a major hassle that would have to wait until after the health fair. For now, it was enough to know that he had left Hidden Falls.

  Lauren put her bicycle in motion again and rode up to the cemetery. She didn’t intend to ride in, but only to pick up the road that would take her home. But she saw a car turn slowly into the entry to the cemetery.

  A black Lexus.

  Nicole was up to something, and she had dragged Ethan into it.

  8:09 p.m.

  “One stop,” Jack said into the telephone. “After that, I promise I’ll be home. I’ll come in and say good night.”

  He dropped the phone into its cradle, satisfied that his wife and youngest daughter were placated for the evening. If he went home now, they would see the distraction in the creases of his face, the glaze in his eyes when he didn’t quite focus on whatever it was they would want to show him. It was better if he went now, even in the dark, to get the curiosity out of his system.

  Jack stacked the four pages of notes he had written, stapled them to the marked-up copy of the will, and slid the whole packet into his briefcase. Then he spun the combination wheels to ensure it would not be an easy task for anyone to get into it.

  This was the most interesting project he’d undertaken in more than a year. He was going to get it right.

  It could unfold in one of several different ways, and Jack didn’t want to be surprised. Nicole Sandquist had paid for his time to search old records, and he’d done that. Almost certainly she hoped he would hand over a copy of whatever he discovered. Like other journalists Jack knew, Nicole likely thought she had entitlements. He didn’t agree. She needed his legal expertise, whether she admitted it yet or not. When the moment came, he wanted to be prepared with a foolproof interpretation of the facts, a rock-solid strategy for exposing the truth and all its ramifications.

  If what Jack suspected was right, Hidden Falls would be stunned.

  The downtown area was settling in for the night. Lights illuminated the occasional office window still occupied. Most of the shops had closed at six, and those that remained open through the dinner hour now prepared for the end of the business day. Signs flipped from OPEN to CLOSED. Ranks of overhead lights went off in favor of interior security lights. Window shades came down. Latches turned. Cars rumbled out of the alleys that ran behind the main streets. Jack backed his car out of his designated parking spot behind his building.

  He had a general idea of where the cemetery was. Brown signs alerting drivers of the vicinity were everywhere.

  Jack found the main entry easily. Before leaving his office, he’d studied the online map enough to know which turns to take even though he wouldn’t recognize the landmarks families might use to find graves of loved ones. The darkness would complicate the task. As soon as he was certain he was in the correct section, Jack pulled his car to the side of the road and grabbed a flashlight from under the driver’s seat. Gianna insisted that he keep one there in case of an emergency. Jack doubted she would call this an emergency, but it seemed like a fine time for a flashlight to him. He pushed the ON button, and an intense beam rewarded his efforts. This would do nicely.

  Sometimes old graves were marked only with words like wife or beloved son, and observers could only be certain of whose wife or beloved son by scoping out inscriptions on surrounding graves. The names Nicole had given him were only surnames. The family he’d found had been prominent and prolific going back almost to the earliest days of Hidden Falls. Jack needed confirmation of names, along with birth and death dates, before he announced that any of the graves matched up with what he’d been looking at for the last three hours.

  He traipsed through
the aisles of graves, flashing his light to read the lettering carved into limestone or marble and muttering to remind himself of his location. As Jack started his third aisle, he heard voices.

  He turned off his flashlight.

  “Nicole, you have to be careful. It’s only been two days since you broke your ankle.”

  So Lauren Nock was in on this conspiracy.

  Jack watched her drop her bicycle and stomp toward the two figures who had visited his office that afternoon.

  She jabbed Ethan Jordan in the chest. “And you! You’re supposed to help take care of her, not lose yourself to her persuasive charms—much less bringing her here in the dark.”

  Sitting in an open car door, Nicole laughed brightly. “It’s hardly the middle of the night.”

  “I made her promise to stay in the car,” Ethan said.

  “Good, because if she steps in a hole and breaks the other ankle, it’ll be up to you to explain to that orthopedist tomorrow.”

  Ethan stood at attention and saluted. Nicole laughed again.

  Jack turned his light back on.

  “Who’s there?” Ethan called out.

  Jack stepped forward. “It’s Jack Parker.” His light flashed across Lauren’s astonished expression and the flash of surprise in Ethan’s eyes.

  Nicole pulled herself upright against the car’s door. “I knew it! If you’re here, that means I was onto something this afternoon.”

  Jack had hoped to contain what he suspected at least until morning.

  8

  All You Need to Know

  Friday

  8:03 a.m.

  Another late night.

  The whole week was full of surprises, and Lauren Nock didn’t think she could handle another one. Nor could she keep pushing her tasks off until the next day. She’d run out of days. This was it. Friday. Tomorrow at nine in the morning, the health fair had to be ready.

  Nicole was awake, dressed, and fed. Ethan had promised to come early. Nothing was keeping Lauren in her apartment except for the first destination on her list for the day.

  Quinn’s notes said he wanted Cooper Elliott to do a safety demonstration. Lauren had called Cooper yesterday, but he preferred to talk in person. At the moment, Lauren regretted not moving this particular task to Benita Booker’s list. But she hadn’t, so now she had to go see Cooper face-to-face at the sheriff’s department.

  Being there would remind Lauren she found Quinn’s car smashed into a maple tree last Saturday night—and was detained at the sheriff’s office into the wee hours convincing Cooper she didn’t know how it got there.

  It sure felt like he’d needed a lot of convincing. Sylvia said Cooper was just doing his job with his careful questions.

  And, of course, there was Cooper himself. He made Lauren nervous. Nothing came out of her mouth right whenever he was around, and that was a horrible feeling.

  Lauren double-checked the contents of her cross-body bag and put her head through the strap.

  “You look nice,” Nicole said from the recliner, where she sat with her broken ankle elevated.

  “Thank you.” Lauren didn’t want to look nice. She just wanted to get the job done. She’d pulled on khakis and a lightweight sweater, as she did most days this time of the year, and corralled her overgrown bangs on the top of her head and held them there with a large brown clip. The rest of her dark blond hair tumbled around her face, and she would probably end up hooking it behind her ears at moments when she concentrated hardest.

  “So you’re off?” Nicole tapped the screen of her iPad.

  “Yep. Call me after you see the orthopedist.”

  Lauren chose to walk through the park across the street and down two blocks before cutting over toward the sheriff’s department. When she passed Town Hall, she wondered if her aunt was in her office yet. The box she’d seen in Sylvia’s attic last night had floated through Lauren’s dreams. It wasn’t locked. Quinn must have expected Sylvia would need to be able to open it at some point.

  Safekeeping, Sylvia said. Sylvia would keep the box safe, but what was Quinn trying to keep safe?

  Outside the old sheriff’s building, Lauren took a deep breath. She had a standard list of questions she was asking everyone about the health fair now. All she needed was a little information and she would make sure Cooper had everything he needed tomorrow. She tugged the door open and entered.

  Cooper sat in his chair at the quad of desks clumped in the center of the main room. As far as Lauren could see, he was the only officer on the premises. No one hovered at the coffee machine or fiddled with buttons on the old photocopier.

  Cooper looked up. “Good morning, Lauren.”

  “Good morning.” Lauren opened the door in the half wall separating the waiting area from the officers’ desks.

  Cooper arranged a chair for her beside his desk. Lauren set her bag on the floor and extracted her clipboard.

  “So,” she said, “I understand you and Quinn had an initial conversation.”

  “We did.” Cooper held a pen between thumb and forefinger and tapped against a pad of paper on his desk. “Quinn’s logic was that you first need to feel safe to have good health in body and spirit.”

  Lauren could follow the reasoning. Sort of.

  “I thought I would do something about bicycle safety,” Cooper said, “and maybe fire safety. Then I can talk to the kids about what to do if an adult, even someone they know, makes them feel uncomfortable in any way.”

  So far we could have done this on the phone. Lauren flipped a few pages on her clipboard until she came to her standard questions. She asked them systematically. How much space did he require? Did he need electricity? How many times did he plan to present? Would he like chairs or was open space better?

  Cooper gave answers, and Lauren made notes. This wasn’t so bad, she decided, as long as they stuck to the details of the fair. When she prepared to put away her notes and pen, Cooper leaned forward and touched her knee.

  “I can see you’re doing a terrific job,” he said, “but I’d like to know how you are.”

  Air refused to flow through her throat.

  “You’ve had a lot to deal with,” Cooper said. “I know you were counting on Quinn for the fair, and you’ve really stepped up for Nicole by taking her in.”

  “Ethan is the one taking care of her most of the time,” Lauren muttered into her bag. She’d hardly been home the last two days. All she’d done was give Nicole a place that was easier to navigate than Nicole’s empty two-story family home.

  “I’ll be there all day tomorrow,” Cooper said. “Could you use some help early to set up?”

  So far the setup crew was Lauren, Benita, Pastor Matt, and maybe Ethan. He still hadn’t promised he’d be around to help. If he came to set up, then who would look after Nicole?

  Yes, Lauren could use all the help she could find. But did it have to be Cooper?

  “Of course,” she heard herself say, with a frightening flash of insight that she was probably underestimating the task. “Can you be on the lawn behind the church at six thirty tomorrow morning?”

  “I’ll do your bidding every moment of the day.”

  Lauren couldn’t decide if the offer was kind, romantic, or creepy. “I’m sure there will be plenty to do.”

  “And when it’s all over and things start to settle back down, I hope you’ll agree to go out with me.”

  “Out?” Lauren’s stomach fluttered in a way it hadn’t in years.

  He smiled. “A date.”

  “Um … it’s hard for me to think about anything but the fair right now.”

  “I understand. I’ll ask again, if that’s all right.”

  Lauren’s ringing phone saved her from having to give an immediate answer. She pulled it from her pocket and looked at the number she had begun to dread.

  “Do you have to take that?” Cooper asked.

  “Nope.” Lauren hit IGNORE, and the phone silenced. For two days she hadn’t had a spare moment to look
up the area code. “Do you know where a 918 number comes from?”

  Lauren shocked herself by asking, but Cooper calmly pulled a binder from a row on his desk, flipped a few pages, and put his finger on a map.

  “Oklahoma.”

  “I don’t know anybody in Oklahoma.”

  “People mix up numbers all the time,” he said.

  “I suppose so.” But usually the person who answered the mistaken call heard a voice on the other end. And usually the same wrong number didn’t show up on a phone four times in three days.

  Lauren fastened her bag closed and stood up. Cooper rose as well.

  “I’ll see you bright and early, then,” he said.

  “Thank you again for your help.”

  Outside, alone on the sidewalk, Lauren let out her breath and tried to remember where her next stop was supposed to be. The church was just down the street. She could go there and get herself organized.

  And then there he was, across the street. After hearing city noises on the last call she answered, Lauren thought Nevin Morgan had left Hidden Falls. Had he gone and come back? For what? Lauren’s stomach clenched with dread, which in that instant became an unacceptable way to live. Turning in the opposite direction from Our Savior Community Church, Lauren began to follow Nevin’s path. He turned toward Main Street, walking past the dry cleaner and a vacuum repair shop. Lauren followed his turn with one of her own but remained behind him and across the street. When he made another turn and approached a parked car, Lauren had just about decided to call out to him. She could get this over with right now.

  He unlocked his car, a midsize beige Chevy.

  Lauren increased her speed.

  “Oh good, there you are!” An arm reached out to grab Lauren’s elbow.

  She turned to see Benita tugging on her.

  “I know you have a million things to do,” Benita said, “but I’ve been working on the sketch for how to set things up. Do you have time to look at it?”

  His car was running now, and he backed out of his parking space. Lauren released him from her sight and tried to focus on the graph paper Benita handed her.