Book of Days_ A Novel - James L. Rubart [66]
Ann nodded. "I've shown this picture to a good chunk of the people in town. No one recognizes my mom, or if they do, they're not admitting it."
"How would someone recognize your mom when you can't see her face?"
"I know it's a long shot, but three other people were there the day the picture was taken. Don't you think one of them would remember it?"
"I only see two others on the bank."
"Someone else had to take the picture."
He stared at the photo. Would anyone remember a tire-swing adventure from over forty years ago? Maybe. Maybe not. "So what's my mission, should I choose to accept it?"
"Help me find old school photos, someone who recognizes my mom in this picture, someone who will admit it, find the other kids in the shot . . . There has to be something or someone who can tell us about this picture."
"I'm on it."
Ann stood. "I'm going to grab a stack of old newspapers from the early sixties. The local swimming hole might be profiled in a small-town paper and that's the kind of shot they'd put next to the story."
She sauntered off and Cameron watched her go. Her mom's overdose wasn't eons ago. For Ann it was seconds ago. She needed to let it go.
"Finding everything you need?"
Cameron's head whipped around to the source of the voice. Susan Hillman stood to his left. She worked here? She must have told him. Why couldn't he remember? Rhetorical question. Think!
"I forgot you worked . . ."
"You forgot I work here? I never told you, so you're forgiven."
"You didn't tell . . . ? I mean . . . right, I remember that you didn't."
"Are you okay, Cameron?"
"Great. And you?"
Susan just smiled. "How goes the quest?"
"Actually I'm not here for me; I'm here for a . . . friend, who is doing some research."
"Is your friend five-seven, auburn hair, leaning toward red, nice figure, and piercing green eyes?"
He laughed. "Possibly."
"She's a pretty gal. Seems sharp enough too. And from what I've seen, kind as well."
"Wait till you get to know her."
Susan swatted Cameron on the shoulder and chuckled. "Can I point you in a helpful direction?"
"If you're offering, yeah, you can. Take a look at this."
Susan sat in a chair next to him and he slid the photo of Ann's mom in front of her. "Do you know who this girl is?"
Susan's face flushed and she pressed her lips together. After a few more seconds, she stood. "I'm so sorry, Cameron, but I can't talk to you about this photo."
"What?" He squinted at her. "Are you joking?"
Susan licked her lips and glanced around the library. "I don't think it would be right for me—"
"Why can't you tell me about this picture?"
"I can't."
Cameron rapped the edge of the table with his palm. "It's important!"
"Out of respect for . . . an old friend, please don't ask me about it again." She walked off, her soft-heeled shoes making muted clicks on the floor.
He ground his fingers into the top of his skull and smacked the table again.
A few minutes later Ann returned without any papers in hand. "Guess what?" She slid into her chair next to Cameron and sat sideways in it, her legs crossed. "The microfiche of the Three Peaks Post from May of 1963 to September of 1963 seems to have vanished."
Cameron didn't answer.
"What's wrong?"
"I want to strangle somebody."
"What happened?"
"Susan Hillman knows the people in your picture, but she won't talk about it."
Ann's face went slack. "She won't? What? I mean, she does?"
"Without question."
"Why won't she talk?"
He rubbed his temples. "No clue. Once again we bump into the Three Peaks' Wall of Secrets." Cameron leaned back. "Susan won't talk. Taylor won't talk. Jason is a psycho. And I'm losing my mind. Literally."
"So what are you going to do?"
"Slip some truth serum into the town water supply."
"Seriously."
He had to hold it together. Going crazy wouldn't get him to the book or help them figure out Ann's history, and something told him the two were connected somehow. "Someone removed the microfiche from the summer of '63 because of that picture. So all we have to do is get a hold of hard copies of the paper from that time period."