Ink and Shadows(Secret, Book, & Scone Society #4)(26)

Nora sat on the empty cushion to Celeste’s right, and June took the cushion to the left. Celeste’s face was almost as gray as her hair. Her eyes were vacant, and she stared at the doorway as if it were a portal to another world.

For a minute or two, the three women sat in awkward silence while Fuentes gazed at his notebook. Then Nora reached for Celeste’s hand. Her fingers were like ice, so Nora stroked the limp hand, hoping warmth would return to the chilled skin.

June leaned forward a little, giving Nora a barely perceptible nod. It was time to see if Celeste had anything to say.

“Honey, we’re here for you.” June’s voice was calm and reassuring. “We’re going to sit here with you. You don’t have to say a word if you don’t want to. We just want you to know that you’re not alone. We’re here with you.”

To Nora’s surprise, June began to hum. Nora didn’t recognize the melody, but it was lovely. Celeste began to sway as if the music was rocking her in its arms.

“We’re here,” Nora whispered.

Water pooled in Celeste’s eyes, and as June continued to hum, the tears spilled over and ran down Celeste’s cheeks. Nora pressed a tissue into Celeste’s hand, but she didn’t notice it. She kept swaying and crying.

Wiggins returned. She placed two sodas and three bottles of water on the table and took Fuentes’s seat. Fuentes left and Wiggins opened her notebook to a blank page and waited.

When June’s song came to an end, Nora let the silence settle around them again. This time, it wasn’t awkward. A bond had formed between the women on the sofa. It was fragile, but it would have to be enough. The deputies needed to know who Bren Leopold was. So did Nora.

“Brenna’s such a pretty name,” she said. “And unique. Where’s it from?”

Celeste smiled. “It’s Celtic. It means ‘raven-haired beauty.’ Brenna’s like Snow White. She can’t tan at all. She goes from milk-pale to lobster-red in sixty seconds. She spent her whole childhood wearing floppy hats and sunglasses like some kind of movie star. Now she’s into the color black. She says it’s the color of power. Of rebellion. And secrets.”

Nora noted Celeste’s use of the present tense. This was also her second time mentioning Bren’s secrets.

“I saw Bren tonight,” she said. “At the festival. We talked for a bit.”

Celeste’s gaze grew sharper. She reminded Nora of a diver who’d surfaced too quickly. She was disoriented but fighting to regain focus.

“You talked?” she asked.

Nora wouldn’t add to Celeste’s grief by repeating everything Bren had said. Instead, she described the radiance of the harvest moon and how the festival music drifted over to Bren’s park bench. She said that Bren must have enjoyed the food because all that was left on her cardboard tray was a balled-up burger wrapper and a few waffle fries.

“I was new to this town once too, so I told Bren to come to my house behind the bookshop if she ever needed a friend. She didn’t respond, but I could tell by the way she looked at me that the offer meant something to her.”

Celeste’s tears started again. “Did she come to you tonight? What happened? Were you home?”

Nora’s cheeks flamed with guilt. “I don’t know. I stayed at the festival for a while after we talked. Then I checked on Miracle Books on my way home.” Every word was filled with remorse. “Later, when I saw Bren again near my house, I sat with her. It was very quiet. It was just us and the moon.”

Celeste hid her face behind a wad of tissues and sobbed. June rubbed her back and murmured gently to her. After a time, Celeste grew calmer and June coaxed her into drinking a little water.

“There’s something else you need to hear,” June said. “Bren wasn’t alone on that park bench. She was with a man. We all saw her talking to him.

Nora heard a crackle as Celeste squeezed the plastic water bottle in her hands. “What did he look like?”

“We never saw his face,” said Nora. “Does Bren know anyone in Miracle Springs? Did she make a new friend recently?”

Celeste threw up her hands. “I don’t know. She stopped talking to me about lots of things since we came here. She didn’t want to move, but we had no choice.”

Wiggins tapped her arm, reminding Nora about the tattoos on the man’s arm.

Nora described them as best she could. “Some kind of symbols. Here.” She touched Celeste’s forearm. “Do you know anyone with tattoos like that?”

Her reply was barely audible. “Too many secrets.”

Celeste was fading again. Sinking into the numbness. She was traumatized, and she was shutting down as a means of self-preservation. It would be cruel to keep her in this room for another second.

“She can’t do this anymore,” Nora said. “She needs to lie down.”

Seeing that Celeste’s face had resumed its ashen pallor, Wiggins stepped out into the hall to call for assistance. When she returned, she thanked Nora and June.

“The social worker’s here now, so you can go,” she added.

The two friends walked back to Nora’s house, too despondent to speak.

“You shouldn’t be driving at this hour,” Nora said. “Stay the night. I can sleep on the sofa.”

June gave a humorless laugh. “Honey, I’m an insomniac. If I wasn’t with you, I’d be reading, knitting, or leading a cat parade. Speak of the devil, here comes Tom. He thinks I started without him.”