Magic hour: a novel (22 page)

He opened his arms. “It’s me.”

Julia ran for him, let him hold her. They were both smiling brightly. When Cal finally drew back, he stared down at her. “I told you you’d be beautiful.”

“And you still give the best hugs of any man I’ve ever met,” Julia said, laughing.

Ellie frowned. Were they
flirting
with each other? All at once she thought about those old-time parties again. While Ellie had been center stage, singing her heart out, Julia had been on the stairs, sitting by Cal, listening from the shadows.

Julia drew back and looked at him. “You look like a rock star.”

“Heroin chic. That’s what they call skinny guys like me.” He pushed the hair from his eyes. “It’s good to see you again, Jules. Sorry it has to be under such crappy circumstances. By the way, your sister is about ready to have a meltdown.”

“That’ll be the day,” Ellie said, opening her can of beer. She unhooked her gun belt and radio and set them on the counter. “Want one?”

“No, thanks.” Julia went to the table and fished through the mess of papers. When she found what she was looking for, she offered them to Ellie. “Here, El. I have these for you.”

Ellie put her beer down. “Wow. That’s her?”

“It is.” Julia smiled like a proud parent. “I’m calling her Alice, by the way. From Wonderland. She responded to the story.”

Ellie stared at the photograph in her hand. It was of a stunningly beautiful black-haired girl in a white eyelet dress. “How’d you do this?”

“Getting her to stand still was the hard part.” Julia’s smile expanded. “We had a good day. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow. Now, I need to run. Will you keep an eye on her?”

“Babysit? Me?”

Cal rolled his eyes. “It’s babysitting, El. Not brain surgery.”

“I’d rather crack your skull open and sew it shut than watch wolf girl. I’m not kidding.” She looked at her sister. “Where are you going?”

“Back to the library. I need to find out about her diet.”

“Go see Max,” Cal said. “The guy keeps meticulous notes. He’ll be able to answer your questions.”

Julia laughed. “Dr. Casanova on a Friday night? I don’t think so.”

“Don’t worry about it, Jules,” Ellie said. “You’re hardly his type.”

Julia’s smiled faded. “That’s not what I meant, but thanks for the tip.” She reached for her purse and headed for the door. “And thanks for babysitting, El. Good to see you again, Cal.”

“Are you a moron?” Cal said to Ellie the minute Julia left.

“I believe there’s some kind of law against calling your police chief a moron.”

“No. There’s a law against my police chief
being
a moron. Did you see the look on your sister’s face when you said she wasn’t Max’s type? You hurt her feelings.”

“Come on, Cal. I saw a picture of her last boyfriend. Mr. World Famous scientist did
not
look like Max.”

Cal sighed and stood up. “You’ll never get it.”

“Get what?”

He looked down at her a long time, long enough that she started to wonder what he saw. Finally, he shook his head. “I’m outta here. See you at work tomorrow.”

“Don’t leave mad.”

He paused at the door and turned to her. “Mad?” His voice dropped. “I’m hardly mad, Ellie. But how would you know that? The only emotions you really understand are your own.”

And then he was gone.

Ellie finished her beer and opened a second. By the time she emptied that can, she’d forgotten all about Cal’s dramatics. They’d had plenty of fights and arguments in their time. What mattered was that tomorrow they’d be fine. Cal would smile at her as if it had never happened. It had always been that way between them.

Finally, she went upstairs. At her old room, she stopped. Turning the knob, she went inside.

The girl was sleeping peacefully, and though she looked like any other kid now, she was still curled up tightly, as if to protect herself from a cruel world.

“Who are you, little one?” Ellie whispered, feeling that weight of responsibility again. “I’ll find your family. I swear I will.”

F
ORTY YEARS AGO, WHEN THE
R
OSE
T
HEATER WAS BUILT, IT HAD BEEN
on the far edge of town. Old-timers still called the neighborhood Back East; it had been given that nickname when Azalea Street seemed miles away. Now, of course, it was practically in town. All around it there were small two-story homes, built in the timber rich years to house mill workers. Across the street was the library, and just down the road a block or two was the new hardware store. Sealth Park, where the girl had first shown up, was kitty-corner to it.

Max came to the movies every Friday night, alone. At first there had been talk about the weirdness of his habit, and women had shown up “accidentally” to sit with him, but in time it had settled into a routine, and there was nothing the people of Rain Valley liked better than routine.

He waved to the theater’s owner, who stood at the tiny concession counter, carefully rearranging the boxes of candy. He didn’t stop to chat, knowing that any conversation would inevitably circle back to the man’s bursitis.

“Hey, Doc, how’d yah like the movie?”

Max turned to his left and found Earl and his wife, Myra, beside him. They, too, were at the movies every Friday night, cuddling in their seats like teenagers. “Hey, Earl. Myra. It’s good to see you.”

“That was some great movie,” Earl said.

“You love every movie,” Myra said to her husband. “Especially the romances.”

They fell into step. “How’s the search going?” Max asked Earl.

“It ain’t no picnic, that’s for sure. The phone is ringin’ off the hook and the leads are pourin’ in like the Hoh River in spring. There are so many lost girls out there. It breaks your danged heart. But we’ll find out who she is. Chief is determined.”

“That Ellen Barton is quite a woman,” Myra said to Max.

He couldn’t help smiling. Myra never missed an opportunity to mention Ellie. It seemed that the whole town had expected them to fall in love. For the short time they’d been an item, the gossip alert had been Defcon 4. A few die-hard romantics like Myra thought for sure there would be a sequel. “Yes, she is, Myra.”

They were outside now, standing on the wide concrete path that connected the entrance of the theater to the sidewalk. On this unexpectedly dry night the other moviegoers drifted toward their cars, talking among themselves.

The crowd dissipated slowly. For a few moments people gathered in small groups along the sidewalk and in the street. Neighbors talking to one another on this beautiful night. The sound of their voices carried on the still, clean air. Earl and Myra were among the first to leave.

One by one the cars drove away, until the street was empty except for an old white Suburban and his pickup truck.

Max was halfway to his truck when a movement across the street caught his eye: a woman was leaving the library, her arms full of books. Light from a streetlamp fell down on her, made her look too alive somehow, an angel against the dark night.

Julia.

Across the street, she opened the passenger door of the Suburban and tossed her books onto the seat. She was almost to the driver’s side when he said her name.

She paused and looked up.

“Hey, Julia,” he said, coming up to her. “You’re working late.”

She laughed. It sounded nervous. “Obsessive is a word that’s often been used about me.”

“How’s your patient?”

“Actually, I’d like to talk to you about her. Later. At the hospital.”

“How about right now? We could go to my house.”

Julia looked confused. “Oh. I don’t think—”

“This is as good a time as any.”

“I
do
have a babysitter right now.”

“Then it’s settled. Follow me.” Before she could say no, he walked over to his truck and climbed into the driver’s seat. As he started the engine, he watched her in the rearview mirror.

She stared at his truck, biting her lip, then finally got into her own car.

O
N EITHER SIDE OF THE ROAD A THICKET OF BLACK TREES STOOD WATCH,
their tops pressed into the starry underbelly of the night sky. Moonlight turned the ordinary asphalt into a ribbon of tarnished silver that snaked between the twin curtains of trees. At the turnoff, an old brown and yellow Forest Service wooden sign pointed the way to Spirit Lake.

Julia hadn’t been out this way in years. Even now, with all the growth that had taken place on the peninsula in the two decades since high school, this was still the boonies. The locals called it the End; not only because of its location, but because of its isolation.

It was a stunningly beautiful, majestic corner of the rain forest, but she couldn’t quite match it to Dr. Casanova. He definitely struck her as a big city guy. What was he doing out here in the middle of all this green darkness?

As she turned onto the gravel road, the landscape changed. The trees blocked out the pearly moonlight. No lights cut through the inky night. The ever present fog off the lake gave the forest a brooding, otherworldly feel.

It occurred to her suddenly that she was following a man she barely knew into the deep woods. And that no one knew where she was.

You’re being an idiot.

He’s a doctor.

Ted Bundy was a law student.

She reached into her purse and pulled out her cell phone. Amazingly, she got service. She punched in Ellie’s phone number and got voice mail. “Hey, El. I’m at Dr. Cerrasin’s house, talking about the girl.” She glanced at her watch. “I’ll be home by midnight.”

She clicked the End button. “At least they’ll know where to start looking for my body.”

That actually wasn’t funny.

In truth, she wasn’t entirely sure why she was following him, anyway. She wasn’t really ready for a consult, and what she did have to present as a theory would make her look like a nutcase.

Unfortunately, the past year had stolen more than her reputation. Somewhere along the way she’d lost her confidence. She needed to hear that she was on the right path.

There it was. The true reason she was here. He was the only colleague she had in Rain Valley, and he’d examined Alice.

She hated the glimpse into her own weakness, but she was not one to deny the obvious.

Up ahead, Max turned off the main road. She followed him onto the driveway that had recently been graveled. The single-lane roadway took a hairpin turn to the left and ended abruptly in a tree-ringed meadow.

Max drove into the garage and disappeared.

Julia parked alongside it. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed her briefcase and got out of the car.

The beauty of the place stunned her. She was in the middle of a huge grassy field, ringed on three sides by enormous evergreens. On the fourth border lay Spirit Lake. Mist rose from the lake like steam from a boiling pot, giving everything a surreal, fairy-tale look. Close by, an owl hooted.

She jumped at the sound.

“The infamous spotted owl,” Max said, coming up beside her.

She eased sideways. “The enemy of every logger.”

“And the champion of every tree hugger. Come on.”

He led her past the garage and toward the house. As she got closer, she saw the craftsman-style beauty of the place. Plank cedar siding, handcrafted eaves, a big wraparound porch. Even the chairs seemed to have been handmade of clean, pure fir. It was the kind of house you didn’t see in Rain Valley. Expensive and hand-tooled, yet plain. It was an Aspen or Jackson Hole kind of place.

He opened the front door and let her enter first. The first thing she noticed was the spicy aroma of bayberry; somewhere, he had a scented candle burning. Sexy music floated through the speakers. No doubt he kept the place in constant readiness for female guests.

Julia tightened her hold on the briefcase and walked into the house.

A gorgeous river-rock fireplace dominated the left wall. Windows ran the length of the house, looking out from the porch to the lake beyond. Two pairs of French doors led outside. The kitchen was small but perfectly constructed; every cabinet gleamed in the soft light of an overhead fixture. The dining room was big, and bracketed on two sides by windows that overlooked the lake. A huge trestle table took up most of the space. Oddly, there was only a single chair next to it. In the living room there was an oxblood leather sofa—no chairs—and a big-screen plasma TV. A thick alpaca wool rug covered the wide-planked wood floor in front of the fireplace.

There was also a jumble of ropes and pullies by the back door. They lay in a tangled heap beside an ice pick and a backpack.

“Rock climbing gear,” she said. It was too, too cliché. “Someone is into danger, I see. A man who needs extreme circumstances to feel alive?”

“Don’t try to psychoanalyze me, Julia. Drink?” He turned away from her and went into the kitchen area. Opening the refrigerator door, he said, “I have whatever you want.”

“How about a glass of white wine?”