No Time for Answers

by Olivia Newport

  Sylvia held the phone in both hands, studied the image, and scrolled to the second one. “What kind of business is that?”

  “I tried to find it on the Internet,” Liam said. “They don’t seem to have a website.”

  “Everybody has a website,” Jack said. “Mind if I have a look?”

  He ignored the reticence in Liam’s face and reached for the phone. Sylvia handed it to him.

  “Santorelli,” Jack read aloud the single name of the business. The address was in Pennsylvania, but it was only a PO box. “In my experience, this sort of letter comes from an organization whose greatest value is being discreet, like a private detective or an adoption search.”

  “Adoption search,” Sylvia said. “Why would Quinn. . . ?”

  “Some sort of search,” Jack said. “It might not be an adoption, but Quinn is probably looking for somebody.”

  4:44 p.m.

  Sylvia could tell nothing from the photo.

  It could be a private letter from an old friend. Liam had held it, though, and insisted the paper inside felt like business weight, the kind companies used to print letterhead on before the world defaulted to economical photocopy paper for ubiquitous use.

  Sylvia took the phone from Jack and handed it back to Liam. “Will you send that image to my e-mail address, please?”

  Liam tapped a few prompts, and Sylvia heard the alert sound on his phone that meant the message was en route. She would look at it later, at home, where she could hold it before her eyes for as long as she liked. Maybe a full-size image on her computer screen would reveal more than what she could see on a cell phone.

  Not that Sylvia would know what to look for. The return address was just one name, the PO box, and a city Sylvia recognized as a suburb of Philadelphia. Quinn’s name and address had come off a laser printer. Whatever kind of company Santorelli was, their standards for being discreet didn’t preclude contemporary office technology.

  Liam and Jack still huddled uncomfortably close.

  “Thank you, Liam. You did the right thing by insisting I look at the photos.” What she would do with the information, Sylvia didn’t know. Philadelphia was a long way from Hidden Falls, and she didn’t even have a street address.

  “I’ll call your office about the other matter.” Liam tucked his phone away.

  “I’m sure Marianne can set you up.”

  “I’ll ask for the next available appointment.”

  “There’s no rush. As I said, I can’t do much until the comptroller finishes his work.”

  “I understand. I just want to be sure I have the opportunity to address questions you might have.”

  Sylvia was ready to be done with both Liam and Jack badgering her for town business. She wasn’t sure she could trust either one of them, but even if she did, the town council had several members savvy about financial contracts. The decision to give Liam investment accounts to manage or Jack legal contracts to review wouldn’t be up to Sylvia. People tended to think the office of mayor held far more power than it did. Even a small town had ordinances and bylaws to abide by.

  Still, she was grateful Liam had brought her the photo, even if he did have ulterior motives.

  Liam picked up his black bag. “I’d like to say hi to Dani before I go.”

  He moved toward the rear of the store, leaving Sylvia with Jack’s over-eager expression.

  “Let me check out that address,” Jack said. “If this is a clue about what happened to Quinn, we’d all like to know.”

  Sylvia’s mind was unclear what Jack had invested in finding Quinn. It certainly wasn’t personal. Quinn welcomed the Parker family to town with the same cordiality he extended to anyone, and one of Jack’s daughters was a student of Quinn’s, but as far as Sylvia knew, the two men barely knew each other. Jack’s chronic zeal to be the winner —when there was no contest—grated on Sylvia.

  But Sylvia would never forgive herself if she didn’t do everything she could for Quinn. All day, every day, under her movement between responsibilities—Town Hall, her mother, the shop—Sylvia tempered the anxiety for Quinn that broke over her spirit in fresh waves.

  What could it hurt to let Jack try to find out who or what Santorelli was? She couldn’t stop him, anyway. He’d seen the address. If he came up with something, she wanted him to bring it straight to her. Brushing him off at this point would be counterproductive.

  “It’s kind of you to offer your time and experience,” Sylvia said.

  “I’ll get back to you.”

  Sylvia wondered what kind of lawyer Jack had been in Memphis and Atlanta. Perhaps despite his overconfident yet needy demeanor, he was a competent professional. When it came to finding Quinn, Sylvia would like nothing more than to be proven wrong in her instincts about Jack Parker.

  Jack went out the shop door, and Sylvia locked it behind him. Out of deference to Dani, she quashed the urge to rush Liam out.

  Sylvia went down the shelf-lined wall to check on Lizzie’s progress with sorting books according to degree of damage. Each hour brought more encouragement about the store’s inventory. The insurance policy would compensate Sylvia for most of the losses, but it was still nice to see they wouldn’t have to reopen with empty shelves. Already the UPS truck had brought two orders Sylvia placed before the burglary, and Lizzie had entered orders with two other distributors with expedited delivery. Between new items and salvageable items, the store would look fairly normal in another day or so.

  In the back of the store, Dani was replacing bent brackets on a shelving unit that had otherwise survived the assault. Dani typically didn’t stop what she was doing to talk to people, and the conversation with Liam was no exception. She ducked her head at an odd angle to position a screwdriver while Liam spoke to her.

  Liam looked alarmingly pale to Sylvia. Distraction seeped through his every gesture today, and his grooming seemed a shade off of his usual personal presentation.

  Sylvia stopped to chat with Lizzie and then moved through the store toward the office in the back.

  “Fine, come,” Dani muttered.

  “Your house at seven?”

  “Yes.” Dani withdrew the screwdriver. “But you’d better bring something I feel like eating.”

  “Pretty sure I can manage that.” Liam adjusted the strap of his bag as he turned toward Sylvia. “I’ll get out of your way now.”

  “I’ll walk you out,” Sylvia said.

  Once he was out of the store, Sylvia bolted the door again. This time she pulled down the shade that covered the glass in the door and then reached for the cord to release a shade over the front window, something she hardly ever did.

  She wanted no more interruptions. Closed meant Closed.

  7:02 p.m.

  Dani was tempted to sit Patricia Healy down for a lesson on rewiring a lamp. If Patricia was going to persist in blowing out lamps at the rate Dani had seen during the last two years, she ought to learn to repair them. This one had been on Dani’s garage workbench for four weeks already. If she didn’t fix it soon, Patricia would start leaving daily messages on Dani’s old answering machine in the kitchen. Further delay wasn’t worth that aggravation. Dani popped the old socket out of the lamp and tossed it aside before cutting the wires and pulling out the cord. She had just starting pushing the new cord through the bottom of the table lamp when she heard Liam’s car.

  Dani didn’t interrupt her project. Liam would know where to find her. His car door slammed, and his steps crunched on the gravel driveway. Dani counted seventeen steps and looked up to see her cousin standing in the door with a sack of food from Eat Right Here.

  “I got cake, too,” he said.

  “What are we celebrating?” Dani pulled the cord through to the top of the lamp and reached for the wire strippers.

  “How about the fact that you’re alive and not in the hospital after being tossed over the falls?”

  “You must have heard some wild stories.” Dani stripped a half inch off the wires. “Hand me that new so
cket, will you?”

  Liam set down the food bag and found the socket.

  “Now the screwdriver,” Dani said. “That little one.”

  He gave her the tool. “I was relieved to find you in Sylvia’s store today and see for myself that you’re all right.”

  “I think in my case you can assume that if you don’t hear from me, I’m not dead.” Dani wrapped wire around a screw. “You’re my local next of kin.”

  “I’m honored. But seriously, I was glad to see you weren’t more banged up.”

  Dani tightened down both screws and reached for electrical tape to wrap the terminals. “I just need a few minutes to finish this.”

  “I’m in no hurry.”

  “Isn’t Jessica waiting for you or something?”

  “Jessica doesn’t run my life.”

  Dani flashed him a look but managed to refrain from laughter. “What did you do now?”

  Liam reached into the food sack and pulled out a french fry. “I’m not going to dignify that crack.”

  “Whatever.” Dani tore a paper towel from the roll over her workbench and wiped her hands. When Liam opened the sack and unleashed the smell of food—Reuben sandwiches along with the fries, if Dani’s nose was any judge—hunger overtook her. “Let’s go eat. I’ll finish this later.”

  Before she had swallowed her first bite, Liam put his phone on the table in front of her. Dani looked at the photo of an address.

  “I’m not sure I trust Jack Parker,” he said. “Do you?”

  Dani took another bite and chewed slowly. “Who’s Santorelli?”

  Liam swiped to another photo. “And why is he writing to Quinn at a UPS box?”

  “You’re full of surprises.” Dani set down her sandwich. “How did we get from Jack Parker to Quinn’s private mail?”

  “Jack says he can find out who Santorelli is, but I would put my bet on your sleuthing abilities.”

  “That’s Quinn’s business,” Dani said.

  “And maybe it had something to do with what happened to him.”

  “That’s a pretty big leap.”

  “It’s possible, isn’t it?”

  “Anything is possible. That’s not the point.”

  Liam rearranged his sandwich. “Yes it is. Even long shots are possibilities when no one’s heard from Quinn in four days.”

  “So now you’ve talked to every resident of Hidden Falls.”

  “I’m pretty sure Cooper’s on top of that.”

  “Then let him do his job.” Dani filled her mouth again. No matter what anyone said, she wasn’t inclined to worry about Quinn. “I’ve got my own mystery to solve if I want justice about my boat.”

  “Isn’t that Cooper’s job, too?”

  “This is different.”

  Half of Hidden Falls were sticking their noses into Quinn’s business and thinking they knew his mind. Dani was minding her own business. She had every right to try to assemble the puzzle pieces when it came to the destruction of her boat. Dani wanted to get back to her work enlarging and enhancing Ethan’s photos. She wasn’t going to waste time debating the merits of her strategy with Liam.

  Liam chewed and stared. Dani did not relent.

  “Follow me.” Dani led Liam into the other room, where her computer displayed a photo from the edge of the lake.

  Liam leaned in for a closer look. “That’s the woods outside the cabin. So?”

  Dani zoomed in and put a finger on the screen. “Here, where it’s darker. See that shape?”

  Liam peered but shook his head. “What am I supposed to see?”

  “A person. A man, I think.”

  He shrugged. “It could be, I guess. You think this is the person who put a hole in the boat?”

  “I think it’s somebody who doesn’t want to be seen. If you were going to commit a crime, would you want to be seen?”

  Liam paled.

  Dani clicked the photo closed. “Why are you so bent on finding out who Santorelli is?”

  “Because of Quinn, of course.”

  “You’re not even that close to him.”

  “But you are. After four days, aren’t you starting to wonder?”

  Wonder, yes. Worry, no. “He’ll turn up when he’s ready.”

  “I’m impressed with what you’re doing with those photos,” Liam said. “I wouldn’t know where to begin.”

  Dani shrugged. “People learn what they’re interested in learning. It’s easier than a lot of people think.”

  Liam chuckled. “That sounds like the kind of thing a gloating hacker would say.”

  Dani saw no humor in the remark. “I’m not one of those people who steals information or creates viruses.”

  Liam backpedaled. “I didn’t say you were.”

  Then what exactly was he saying?

  “But you understand how to hack into a system, don’t you?” Liam asked.

  Of course she did. “It’s not usually that hard. People are careless about passwords.”

  “If someone’s computer was hacked, would you be able to trace how it happened?”

  “Depends.” Whatever Liam was trying to say, Dani wished he would get to the point.

  “I’ve been having some trouble with my computer,” he said. “Maybe I’ll have you take a look.”

  “It’s not my favorite thing to do.” If he’d been hacked, Dani hoped Liam hadn’t been stupid.

  “Nothing competes with fishing.”

  Liam had that right.

  “Back to Quinn,” Liam said. “I know you can track anything. I really want you to try to dig up something on this Santorelli business.”

  “I told you—”

  “I know. But if there’s even a remote possibility something happened to Quinn, don’t you want to help?”

  7:31 p.m.

  “I love macaroni and cheese.” Christopher stood on a chair pulled up next to Lauren at the stove and stirred the pasta and powdered cheese together.

  Molly was at the cupboard putting away peanut butter, tuna fish, spaghetti sauce, pastas, bread, breakfast cereal, and assorted canned vegetables. Bananas and apples sat in a basket on the counter. The refrigerator was stocked with milk, juice, eggs, and yogurt. A generous gift card to the nearest grocery store would ensure Molly could get more fresh food.

  Lauren patted Christopher’s back and smiled over his head at his mother.

  “He doesn’t remember that we didn’t always eat out of boxes,” Molly said softly. “I pureed his baby food out of organic ingredients.”

  “Don’t be embarrassed,” Lauren said. “You’re taking care of your son the very best way you can right now.”

  “This is the fourth place we’ve lived in a year,” Molly said. “Each one is crummier than the one before.”

  “Christopher knows you love him. That’s what matters.” Lauren put her hand over his and stirred the mixture with slightly more force.

  The house was dismal. Lauren wouldn’t deny that reality. Standing next to the back door, she felt the draft that came in through the cracks around it. The curtains looked like they hadn’t been replaced in twenty years, and the linoleum floor had a crack that ran the length of the room. None of the chairs matched the table or each other. In the living room, the unpolished wood floors were gouged and lacked the rugs that would have warmed up the room.

  Christopher hadn’t taken off the brown-and-green winter jacket since Lauren first helped him zip it up. It fit him well, with plenty of room for the growth spurt he might have over the winter. When they got home, Molly had coaxed him to take off his hat and gloves with the compromise that he could sleep in his new jacket that night even though the house was comfortably warm.

  “This looks just about done.” Lauren glanced at the green beans heating on the rear burner. She had already promised Christopher she would eat with them and confided that mac and cheese had been her favorite food when she was his age.

  Molly lifted Christopher off the stool and they moved to the table. Lauren sat between mot
her and son and offered her open hands.

  “I’d like to ask the blessing,” she said.

  Christopher sobered, shook his head, and put his hands in his lap.

  Lauren raised her eyebrows toward Molly.

  “We haven’t asked a blessing in a long time,” Molly said. “He’s not used to it.”

  “Do you mind?” Lauren asked.

  “I wish you would. I’m so grateful tonight.”

  Lauren kept her prayer simple and childlike, using words she hoped Christopher would understand. They ate macaroni, beans, and salad greens. Christopher asked for two refills of milk, making Lauren wonder about the last time the child had unlimited access to filling food.

  “Time for your jammies.” Molly prodded Christopher when he had scraped his plate clean. “You can put your coat back on after you change.”

  Once her son left the room, Molly turned tear-filled eyes to Lauren. “I was so desperate this afternoon when I found out the community center couldn’t help us. And then there you were.”

  “We were both where we needed to be.” Lauren had come so close to simply phoning the community center and taking her chances with leaving a message for the director. Even after she was there, she’d almost let Molly and her son walk out of the center. The clipboard was still in her bag, untouched for the last few hours. Tomorrow was Thursday. She had only two days to pull the fair together. When she got home tonight, she would call the other members of the committee and begin trying to share the load—if it wasn’t too late to make phone calls.

  “We’ve taken up so much of your time,” Molly said.

  “I was glad to give it.” Lauren stacked the plates. “I hope you’ll come to the fair on Saturday. We’re planning fun for the kids, and I think you’ll meet people you’ll really like.”

  “The only thing that will keep us away is if I find a job.”

  Lauren wondered who would look after Christopher when Molly found work. He had just missed the cut-off for being old enough to go to school. One challenge at a time, she reminded herself.