Page 24 of The Secret of Emerald Cottage

“And this one?” Molly tapped a finger on a good-looking, blond-haired boy with an ear-to-ear smile who had his arm slung over Brec’s father’s shoulder. “He seems like a sweet kid, especially given that he’s wearing a cross.”

The smile dimmed on Aunt Lilly’s lips as she gently grazed the boy’s grinning face. “He was. That’s Greg Schulte, one of Pastor Dave’s and Blaine’s best friends growing up. I gave him that titanium cross on a rawhide string when he was twelve right after his mother died.” A faint smile shadowed her lips. “You would have thought it was made of gold as much as he treasured it. Told me he never took it off, and far as I could tell, he didn’t. A good family, but impoverished, you know? The poor boy worked two jobs all through high school to save for college, then got a scholarship to boot. Mother died early and father took to drink, so Greg always spent summers with David and his family at the lake. That is, till he disappeared freshman year of college.”

“Disappeared?” Molly stood up to stretch her legs. “What do you mean, disappeared?”

Aunt Lilly’s shoulders lifted in the barest of shrugs. “Off to college one day and then gone the next, and nobody knows where to. Supposedly got into a fight with some hoodlum at a college bar, probably over a girl ’cause hear tell girls downright swooned over him, Blaine, and Alan. Police suspected foul play, of course, but never could prove anything. Some suspect he just up and left after his dad kicked him out, but either way he’s been missing ever since.”

“That’s awful,” Molly whispered, and Brec swore he saw a quiver of excitement whispering down her spine over yet another mystery to solve. “And the police did a thorough investigation?”

“I suppose, but not much came of it. The Sheriff’s office was mighty slim back then with only a few deputies, and it was only a missing person’s case, after all, not a crime. But it shore ’nough shook everybody up.” Sorrow threaded Aunt Lilly’s voice as she slowly handed the frame back to Brec. “Never saw the rest of the boys much after that, but then they were busy with college and growing up, I s’pose.”

“Was it widely reported in the newspapers?” Molly asked, the wheels obviously turning in her brain.

“Oh, you betcha.” A wispy breath feathered from Aunt Lilly’s lips. “The Lake Loon Lads were somewhat of a celebrity in this county, you might say. You see, Lake Loon was a summer haunt for wealthy Savannah families back in the day, a number of which had political ties, including Alan Murray and Pastor Dave’s families. So the boys were always getting in the paper for one reason or another, be it a fishing tournament for charity or various academic or sports accomplishments.” She glanced up at Brec with a melancholy smile. “In fact your dad actually saved the life of a little girl in the lake, which made the papers as well.”

Brec felt his jaw harden. Yeah, too bad he couldn’t save his own marriage. He cleared his throat to change the subject. “Anybody hungry?”

“I am,” Aunt Lilly said with a thrust of her chin. “For trifle.”

Smile pursed, Molly met Brec’s gaze, her eyes imploring his help. “Now, Miss Lilly, you need strength and energy, and trifle isn’t the best option—”

“Of course it is!” Her arms quivered as she attempted to rise, proof positive she needed to build up her strength. “Trifle is four out of the five food groups, don’t you know! Whipped cream, eggs, sponge cake, and jam—which is dairy, protein, grains, and fruit, not to mention sherry contains high levels of polyphenols, which reduces the risk of coronary artery disease by protecting the heart from bad cholesterol.”

Molly blinked at Brec as her mouth fell into a sagging smile. Which she instantly snapped closed. “But it’s loaded with sugar, young lady, which increases your risk of obesity, type 2 diabetes, high blood pressure, heart disease, stroke, and other diseases.”

“And don’t even get her started on how it can zap your energy levels rather than boost them,” Brec said with a wink at Molly, all too familiar with the pitfalls of sugar for an athlete.

“Prairie Poop!” Arms in a stubborn fold, his aunt pierced him with a thin-lidded stare. “Take me downstairs, Pelé, or I’ll crawl down on my own.”

Shaking his head, Brec gently picked his aunt up, pretty sure she was the most stubborn person he knew.

Molly bolted around him on his way to the door, pleading with Aunt Lilly all the way down the hall. “You can have trifle for dessert tonight, Miss Lilly, but first thing in the morning, you need a good source of protein.”

“Eggs are a good source of protein, and there’s eggs in that trifle, sonny, isn’t there?”

“Yes, ma’am, there are.” A smile hovered on his lips as he carried her down the steps with Molly on his heels, flapping her arms like a scarecrow in a windstorm.

“But trifle has more sugar than eggs,” Molly stressed, scurrying around Brec at the bottom of the steps to continue to beg, “which in excess can negatively impact weight and dental health, plus accelerate both the skin aging process and cognitive decline.”

“Well, no worries there, missy.” Aunt Lilly grinned as Brec set her in her chair at the table. “’Cause I’m near bones soaking wet as it is, have dentures and wrinkles everywhere including my butt.” She tapped her newly coiled, bobby-pinned curls. “And a noggin like a steel trap, which,” she said with a warning wag of her finger and a glare that made Brec grin outright, “will take your fingers clean off if you try to serve me anything but trifle.”