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“So, this is a first date?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“I need more details.”
What? Why was he so interested in my social life? Yet, my tongue kept rolling. “Well, I met him earlier this week, so I don’t know much about him. He seems nice, though, and polite.”
Sheesh. That made Wolfgang sound like Wally Cleaver.
Doc’s body vibrated next to me, his laugh almost hidden by the whir of the microfilm machine. “I need more details about the article, Violet. Like what to look for in a headline.”
My whole body broke into a sweat that reeked of humiliation. Sitting so close to Doc was scrambling my brainwaves. I lunged out of the chair and put several feet of air between us. “I want to read about the girl that disappeared last winter. All I know is it happened sometime in January.”
“It was January 10th.”
The certainty in his tone froze my fiddling fingers. “You remember the exact date?”
He nodded.
Why?“Did any other girls disappear prior to last August?”
“Not recently. Not from Deadwood. No blondes.”
I watched Doc as he scanned headlines, now turning the side knob much slower as he searched. Not only had he noticed the similarities between Addy and last summer’s missing girl, he also knew the timeframe of the second girl’s disappearance. Again, why?
“Here you go.” Doc stepped back from the machine. “It looks like this one goes into a good amount of detail on it.”
“Thanks for your help.” I slid back into the seat, waiting until I heard Doc’s chair scrape across the wood floor before letting my shoulders relax and diving into the article.
Jade Newel was the missing girl’s name. She’d disappeared at the tender age of ten, most likely still pre-puberty, so I figured the chances of her having run away were slim.
The last place she’d been seen was in the very library in which I sat. One of the librarians had been interviewed (not Miss Plum, judging by the sophisticated word choices in the quotes), and said Jade had left shortly before closing time that Tuesday, which was eight o’clock.
The librarian remembered the girl as a quiet but happy child. Jade’s outfit that evening had been a sweater covered with sunflowers and yellow snow boots. She’d been wearing a candy necklace, too, which the librarian made sure to stress was not really allowed in the library, but she’d made an exception that day. Jade had been one of her “favorites.”
Like Emma, Jade had been a blonde. Her face was more heart-shaped, her hair longer, but she still had the general look of the others—and Addy. Jade’s aunt described her as a polite, but shy girl. She hadn’t had a lot of friends, only a handful and most from her swim class.
Her teacher used words like “good student,” “smart girl,” and “avid listener.” The cops added quotes with “manhunt,” “probably just lost in the woods,” and “hope to find her soon.”
The parents offered a sizeable reward, for which they thanked the community that had contributed. The article’s author had ended with sentiments of hope and requests for prayers.
I sat back. The few remnants of breakfast I’d managed to choke down churned in my stomach as worries of Jade’s fate, and that of all the other young girls in Deadwood—including my daughter—loomed.
I turned to Doc. His nose was buried in a book, the title shielded by his hand. “How do you print from this thing?”
He didn’t look up from the page he was reading. “Push the green button on the front.”
Ah. That was the green button’s purpose. I pressed it and waited. “Nothing happened.”
“The printer is by the front desk. The Off switch is under the knob I was turning.”
“Thank you.” Standing, I grabbed my purse. I’d like to have dug up more information on Jade’s disappearance, but between my technological incompetence and the need to put a couple of walls and some fresh air between Doc and me, it was time to skedaddle.
“Did you find what you were looking for, Violet?”
“I’m not sure.” The article was too fresh, my thoughts drowned in details and images. I needed to let everything soak in and see what was left on the surface afterward. “Thanks again for your help.”
He dragged his eyes from the pages and looked at me as I passed in front of him. “You’re welcome. Are you available on Sunday to look at some more houses?”
