Page 56 of Paper Ghosts

“What do you do for a living? Or is a real job too plebeian for you?”

“I’m a receptionist.”

“I’m the manager of the country club. The youngest ever. And Tasha is a land developer with her husband Gary.”

“Did someone say my name? Like a genie, I am summoned,” Gary said. Completely oblivious to the tension, he kissed Tasha. He smelled of cold air, and he looked a little ridiculous in the pink cowboy hat he’d won for Tasha in a beanbag toss but she couldn’t wear because of her high ponytail. “I just got the oddest news from the sheriff, Tash. There were some remains found out on your mother’s property, along with a wallet that had Clutch Vallow’s ID in it. It was obviously old, because the license was expired. I remember the name Vallow. I think his grandfather lived around here.”

Tasha and Bailey locked eyes for a moment before Tasha turned to Gary, a sickening fear coming over her. “Remains? What are you talking about?”

“Apparently, some kid was fishing out there today and found the wallet. It had some money in it, so he poked around looking for more and he found a bone. Poor kid freaked out, probably because it’s so close to Halloween. They think it’s just an animal bone. Don’t worry.” He rubbed her arm. “Sam was only calling to confirm our game tomorrow. He’s not thinking much of it, so we shouldn’t. It won’t affect our development out there next year.”

Olivia Grace laughed. “Clutch Vallow. I haven’t thought about him in years. Everyone thought he left right after graduation, and none too soon. I used to hear talk about him in the girls’ restroom. I know for a fact that one girl changed schools because of him. Has he been dead all this time? Wait, Tasha, he was at your graduation bonfire!” Olivia Grace’s eyes slid to Bailey, whose skin had turned as pale as her hair. “Bailey, I remember you disappearing into the woods that night. Clutch had been lurking around that area. Did you go off to meet him? Did you kill him?”

“Olivia Grace!” Tasha said sharply, and everyone looked at her, surprised. “Of course she didn’t kill him!”

She held her hands up. “I was kidding. I just meant that the Feathers got away with a lot when we were in school. Remember, Tasha? Because I do.”

“I’d like to go home now, Gary.” She turned her back on everyone, facing the only person who had ever made her feel safe. “I’m not feeling well.”

“Of course, Tash. Let’s go.” He took her hand in his.

“Wait,” Bailey said from behind them. “Can I talk to you in private, Tasha?”

“I think you’ve done enough,” Olivia Grace snapped.

Trying not to lose sight of Tasha, Bailey handed Theo her cup of cider, then took off his jean jacket and gave it back. “I should go, too.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. Thanks,” she said, walking quickly away. But Tasha and Gary had already melted into the crowd. She darted around, apologizing to people she bumped into, trying to find Gary’s pink hat as a guide. She reached the far end of the park at the courthouse, and finally saw him get into a car and drive off toward their neighborhood.

She jogged in that direction. The noise from the fair eventually faded into an eerie quiet, punctuated only by the sharp, sandpaper crack of dry leaves as she stepped on them. For all of Tasha’s glamour and confidence, somewhere in her was still a scared eighteen-year-old. Bailey’s only thought was to tell her that it was all right, to remind her of the call Bailey made to her after she left town. There was no way that the bone could be Clutch’s. Bailey had seen him beside the Wester House that night eight years ago, far away from Tasha’s property.

When she finally got to the Tillbury house, Gary’s Lexus was parked on the curb, ticking as the engine cooled. She took a step toward the house just as the porch light went out, followed shortly by the living room light.

Her shoulders dropped and she walked home.

“Did you have a good time?” her dad said when she closed the door behind her. He was sitting in the living room, scrolling on his phone. He got up and joined her in the foyer.

“Yes. I always liked the Shadow Fair when you took me. But it’s sad that there’s no more Mother Hen’s now.” She gestured down the hallway. “Do you think Mim would be up for a short chat tonight? I won’t keep her long.”

Tug pinched his lips. “That’s probably not a good idea. She’s had a rough day.”

“Did something happen?”

“Nothing for you to be concerned about. When I took her nighttime meds to her, she invited you to tea tomorrow. She’ll be fine by then.” It sounded like he was trying to reassure himself. “I’m going to turn in. I have a headache I can’t shake. I was just waiting for you to get home. If you didn’t eat at the fair, there are some hors d’oeuvres in the fridge.”

“Hors d’oeuvres? Did you throw a party while I was gone?”

He smiled and kissed her forehead. “Good night, sweetheart.”

After he vanished into the darkness at the top of the staircase, she looked toward Mim’s room again. It was nothing that couldn’t wait until tomorrow. She supposed she just wanted Mim to comfort her about Clutch, the way she had wanted to comfort Tasha. A solidarity in knowing.

Curiosity, more than anything else, led her toward the kitchen to her dad’s hors d’oeuvres. The dining room glistened as she passed through, with wavy moonbeams through the French doors making the room feel underwater. Out of habit, she stopped to look outside, and her whole body gave a jerk.

There he was again.

He was standing at the precipice where the lawn sloped down to the creek, as if he had just walked up from the water. His back was to the moonlight, so she could only make out his silhouette. His stance was cocky and wide. And she thought she saw, there in this hand, an ember of a cigarette.