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By Root 288 0

on the floor, reading her third book. The room was boisterous, as it always was. On a low table off to the side, cookies and punch had been set out; in the far corner, a few of the less engaged children were playing with some of the many toys she kept on the shelves. Still others were finger-painting on a makeshift table she’d designed. The room was decorated in bright colors—the shelves were like crayons, with no apparent theme other than vividness. Despite the protests of some of the senior volunteers and employees—who wanted children to sit quietly as they were being read to, as had always been done—Lexie wanted children to have fun in the library. She wanted them to be excited about coming, even if that required toys, games, and a room that was less than quiet. Over the years, she could remember dozens of kids who played for a year or more before discovering the joy of stories, but that was fine by her. As long as they kept coming in.

But today, as she was reading, she felt her mind wandering back to the lunch she’d shared with Jeremy. Though it couldn’t be described as a date, it almost had that feeling, which made it a little disconcerting. Thinking back on it, she realized that she’d revealed far more about herself than she’d intended, and she kept trying to remember how that had happened. It wasn’t as if he’d pried. Instead, it had just happened. But why on earth was she still dwelling on it?

She didn’t like to think of herself as neurotic, but this endless analysis wasn’t like her. And besides, she told herself, it hadn’t even been a date as much as a guided tour. But no matter how much she tried to stop it, Jeremy’s image kept popping up unexpectedly: the slightly crooked smile, his expression of amusement at things she said. She couldn’t help wondering what he had thought about her life here, not to mention what he’d thought about her. She’d even blushed when he said he’d found her charming. What was that all about? Maybe, she thought, it was because I spilled my guts about my past and left myself vulnerable.

She made a note not to do it again. And yet . . .

It hadn’t been so bad, she admitted. Just talking to someone new, someone who didn’t already know everyone and everything going on in town, was refreshing. She’d almost forgotten how special that could be. And he’d surprised her. Doris had been right, at least in part. He wasn’t what she thought he’d be. He was smarter than she’d first assumed, and even if he held his mind closed to the possibility of mystery, he made up for it by being good-humored about their differing beliefs and way of life. He poked fun at himself, too, which was also appealing.

As she continued to read to the children—thank goodness, it wasn’t a complicated book—her mind refused to stop whirling.

Okay, so she liked him. She admitted that. And if truth be told, she wanted to spend more time with him. But even that realization didn’t change the little voice in her head warning her not to get hurt. She had to tread carefully here, for—as much as they seemed to get along—Jeremy Marsh would indeed hurt her if she allowed it to happen.

Jeremy was hunched over a series of street maps of Boone Creek, dating back to the 1850s. The older they were, the more written detail they seemed to have, and as he watched how the town had changed decade by decade, he jotted additional notes. From a sleepy village nestled along a dozen roads, the town had continued to expand outward.

The cemetery, as he already knew, sat between the river and Riker’s Hill; more important, he realized that a line drawn between Riker’s Hill and the paper mill would pass directly through the cemetery. The total distance was a little more than three miles, and he knew that it was possible for light to be refracted that far, even on foggy nights. He wondered if the factory had a third shift, which would necessitate keeping the place brightly lit, even at night. With the right layering of the fog and enough brightness, everything could be explained in one fell swoop.

Upon reflection, he realized he should have noticed