True believer - Nicholas Sparks [79]
But even if the tapes weren’t of the quality he’d hoped they would be, observing the way in which the lights had changed during the twenty-two seconds they were visible assured him again that he’d indeed found the answer. He popped the tapes out, perused the topography maps, and calculated the distance from Riker’s Hill to the river. He compared the earlier photographs he’d taken of the cemetery to photos of the cemetery he found in books about the town’s history, and came up with what he assumed to be a fairly accurate estimate regarding the rate that the cemetery was sinking. Though he wasn’t able to find any more information on the legend of Hettie Doubilet—the records from that period shed no light on the subject—he made a call to the state water bureau concerning the underground reservoir in this part of the state, and one to the department of mines, which had information on the quarries that had been dug earlier in the century. After that, he tapped a few words into a search engine of the Internet looking for the timetables he needed, and finally, after being put on hold for ten minutes, he spoke to a Mr. Larsen at the paper mill, who was eager to help in any way he could.
And with that, all the pieces had finally come together in a way that he could definitively prove.
The truth had been in front of everyone all along. Like most mysteries, the solution had been simple, and it made him wonder why no one had realized it before. Unless, of course, someone had, which opened the door to another angle on the story.
Nate, no doubt, would be thrilled, but despite the morning’s success, Jeremy felt little sense of accomplishment. Instead, all he thought about was the fact that Lexie wasn’t around to either congratulate or tease him about it. Honestly, he didn’t care how she’d react as long as she was here to react, and he rose from his seat to check her office again.
For the most part, it looked the same as it had the day before. Stacks of documents were still piled on her desk, books were scattered haphazardly, and the screen saver on her computer was etching and erasing colorful drawings. The answering machine, flashing with messages, sat next to a small potted plant.
Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that without Lexie, the room may as well have been completely empty.
Twelve
My main man!” Alvin shouted into the receiver. “Life treating you good down south?”
Despite the static on Jeremy’s cell phone, Alvin sounded remarkably chipper.
“I’m fine. I was calling to see if you’d still like to come on down and help me.”
“I’m already gathering my gear,” he answered, sounding out of breath. “Nate called me an hour ago and told me all about it. I’ll meet you at Greenleaf later tonight—Nate made the reservation. But, anyway, my flight leaves in a couple of hours. And believe me, I can’t wait. Another few days in this stuff, and I’ll go crazy.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Haven’t you been reading the papers or watching the news?”
“Of course. I’ve yet to miss an issue of the Boone Creek Weekly.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind,” Jeremy said. “It’s not important.”
“Well, anyway, it’s been an absolute blizzard since you left,” Alvin informed him. “And I mean North Pole stuff, where even Rudolph’s nose is worthless. Manhattan is practically buried. You got out of here just in time. Since you’ve left, this is the first day that flights are even close to being on schedule. I had to pull a few strings to even get