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“You don’t sound sure.”

“I’m fifteen.” The phone goes face down on the table. “Are you going to put us in the paper?”

“No. I just like learning about people and places.”

He tips his head to the side. “Why?”

“Everyone has a story. Where they come from, who they are, what they dream of doing.” I smile. “It’s nice to hear about all of that.”

He studies me with mild interest. “I guess.”

“Would you mind if I took a photo? Not of you. The creek.”

“No photos.” It tumbles out, and he hears himself and picks his phone up. “It’s not a rule or anything. People don’t like it, is all.”

People don’t like it. I write that down, but don’t push any further. He’s fifteen. Whatever the rule is, it isn’t his to explain.

A collection of small things, meaningless on their own, has been on my mind for weeks. Edges of a puzzle with no middle. And it’s not only here in Hollings.

Obituaries with no dates. A large order of medical supplies. A village that doesn’t like photos. I write down some theories. The mob, witness protection, secret government facility.

Ravenslight Creek is hiding something. Or someone.

I tap my pen against the page.

“Fair enough.” I close my notebook. “What do you usually do for fun?”

“Snowmachines.” He answers this one straight away. “There’s a lake we ride on when it freezes. Are you Nick’s girlfriend?”

I almost choke on my own saliva. “What? No.”

He ducks his head, but I catch the grin, gone just as fast. “Damon owes Adam fifty bucks.”

Chapter 25

Ellery

Nick’s been gone for hours, and my agitation is growing with the rapidly dropping temperature. Fog builds at the base of the mountains. Every time I check, it creeps in closer. Jake isn’t fazed by the bone-deep chill, still absorbed in his phone as my lips turn blue.

“Hey, do you think we could go find Nick and Damon?”

“They’re busy.” He doesn’t even look up from his screen.

“Is there, like, a cafe or a bar? Something with heat?”

He blinks, like he’s just realizing I’m a person and not a fence post. “Okay.”

He takes me to a wooden building with a steeply pitched roof and a ramp leading to the front door. A fire blazes in a stone hearth, and I go straight to it, warming my hands over the flames. Dusty fake flowers sit in a clay vase on the mantel, under the head of an enormous deer. A couple of rustic tables covered in fading red checkered cloths, mismatched chairs, and a kitchen not much bigger than the one in my apartment. The place is empty except for the teenage girl pouring coffee into a tin mug.

“This is Ellery,” Jake tells her. “She’s with Nick. An outsider.”

Wow, kind of rude, Jake, but okay.

“I’m Shelley.” She hands me the coffee, hair escaping from her messy braid. “I love your scarf! Where’d you get it? We get nothing out here. Takes FedEx so long to ship anything, and then we’ve got to go to town to pick it up. Can’t wait until I get to UAF next year…”

Where Jake is a kid of no words, Shelley more than makes up for him. She talks and talks while I sip my bitter coffee, waiting to respond.

“We don’t get many visitors. It’s so boring. So, how do you know Nick?”