When I finally arrived back at the house, it was nine o’clock. I entered through the front hall, wanting to avoid Grandmother and Matt in the kitchen. I was angry with Matt for turning away when I needed his help. He had chosen Grandmother over me, determined to protect her at any cost.
I crept upstairs, stuffed some things in a backpack, and headed out again, leaving a note in the hall telling Grandmother I’d be gone for a while. My first stop was the library at Chase College. I hoped to access local newspaper articles from Avril’s time that might shed light on what had happened.
Three hours later, totally frustrated by the library’s ancient and cranky microfiche machines, I’d found just one short piece on Avril that attributed her death to allergic reaction. It made no mention of the mill or Thomas. After trying a number of sources on red-creep, it became obvious that its local name would not yield information on the plant and its byproducts. But I got lucky with Angel Cayton. She had not only started the Watermen’s Fund but contributed to the college. A librarian directed me to a conference room where her portrait hung.
Angel looked like all the other matrons honored in the conference room, with gray hair, blue eyes, and a bustline that could amply support pearls and eyeglasses-only she wasn’t wearing pearls. Around her neck hung a silver chain with a blue gem as mystical as the eyes of my newest-and perhaps oldest-friend. It was the pendant Sophie loved.
I opened the front gate. “Is Sophie around?” I called to the group of little girls who were playing dolls on the porch.
Barbie and Ken kissed with loud smacking noises, then one of Sophie’s sisters turned to me. “Mom said we can only have one friend over at a time. Sophie’s already got one.”
“I’ll be just a minute. Is she inside?”
“Around back,” said another sister.
I followed a stone path to the narrow space between the Quinns’ house and the house next door and emerged into a backyard.
“Oh,” I said, though I shouldn’t have been surprised. “Hi.”
Sophie, who had been leaning over a tub of suds, leaped to her feet. A large black-and-white dog jumped with her.
Alex caught the dog just before it escaped its bath. Soap bubbles flurried around them.
“Hey, Megan,” Alex said, smiling. “Want to help us wash Rose? We’ll throw in a free bath for you.”
I laughed. “Thanks, but I’ve already had mine. I’ll watch.”
“Rose met up with a skunk this morning,” Sophie told me.
“I’ll watch from a distance.”
“And Alex sort of stopped by to help,” she continued, looking embarrassed.
“Glad he got here first,” I teased.
“It was nice because he hadn’t seen the girls for a while,” she added, as if Alex had come by with the passionate hope that he could deskunk her dog and visit her sisters.
“Like I told you before, we’re just old friends.”
She was so worried that she was intruding on my dating territory, she missed the expression on Alex’s face-the protest he almost spoke aloud. I saw it and smiled.
“You know, Sophie, I’m here for a two-week visit,” I reminded her. “And I doubt Grandmother will be asking me back.”
Alex realized that I was giving Sophie “permission” to go with whomever she wanted and glanced sideways at her, but she didn’t get it. I don’t think it had crossed her mind that her old crabbing buddy was falling for her-falling fast, I’d say.
“How’s Matt today?” Alex asked.
“Hot and bothered, thanks to me.”
“Any chance of you two cutting each other a break?” he asked.
“Don’t think so,” I replied, and tried to ignore the ache inside me.
I watched him and Sophie work the soap through the thick fur of the dog, debating what to say in front of Alex. How aware was he of Sophie’s psychic side? He seemed an open-minded person; still, I decided to mention only what I had to.
“Listen, Sophie, I’m trying to get information on the plant called redcreep. Do you know its botanical name?”
“No, but Miss Lydia might.”
“What do you need to know about it?” Alex asked.
“I was told that people used it as a beauty supplement. I want to know if the processed stuff has any taste-or smell or color. Does it dissolve in liquid? What exactly does it do to you? How fast does it work? How much is too much and what are the symptoms of an overdose-uh, you know, that kind of thing,” I added casually, after giving a list that belonged in a forensic lab.
“Why do you want to know?” he asked.
I glanced at Sophie.
“It’s a long story,” she answered for me. “How about someone at the college, Alex-would one of the biology profs know?”
“We can find out,” he replied.
“Would you?” I asked quickly. “I’ve got some other things to do. Thanks. I’ll catch up with you later.” I started across the grass.
“Megan,” Sophie called, hurrying after me. “Megan!” She waited till we were in the side yard, out of earshot. “What are you up to?”
“I have a lot to tell you,” I said, “but not now. I want to talk to Mrs. Riley, then go to the mill.”
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Go to the mill. I have a bad feeling about it.” Shaded by a cedar, her blue eyes were a flicker of light and shadow.
“Look, Sophie, don’t get prophetic on me. It’s the past I need info on, not the future.”
“I’m telling you, it’s dangerous.”
“I’ll watch where I step and look out for rodents.”
“You’re asking for it,” she warned.
“Is that a prediction?”
“Yes.”
“Want to hear my prediction?”