Myths, Murder & Love

Chapter 14

By the time Thallia followed Leon back toward town, the dizziness had passed. The questions hadn't.

She pushed them aside for now. Whatever had happened in the Stone House wasn't something she could solve while hungry, without electricity, and carrying a phone that had become an expensive camera somewhere outside Moab.

Olympia Springs had more immediate problems for her to tackle.

Leon led her back onto Main Street and pulled into a parking space in front of the stone building she'd noticed earlier.

Thallia parked behind him and climbed out. She looked up at the sign over the entrance.

OLYMPIA SPRINGS SHERIFF'S OFFICE

“So I guessed right.”

Leon joined her on the sidewalk. “About?”

She pointed toward the building. “Sheriff's office.”

Leon glanced at the sign, amusement touching his expression. “Excellent investigative instincts.”

Thallia gave him a dry look. “Don't mock the unemployed journalist.”

His smile appeared. “Wouldn't dream of it.”

Thallia looked down Main Street.

From here, she could see details she'd missed from the Bronco. A café occupied one of the old adobe storefronts, with a handful of metal tables beneath a shaded awning. Across the street stood a hardware store that appeared to have been there since hardware was invented. Farther down, flowering baskets hung outside a small grocery market.

People moved between the businesses at an unhurried pace. Several of them were looking at her.

Thallia glanced at Leon. “I'm beginning to feel conspicuous.”

Leon glanced toward the people watching them. “You're new.”

Thallia looked back at him. “People move to small towns.”

“They do,” Leon agreed.

She gestured toward their growing audience. “And everyone stares at them?”

Leon considered that. “Usually not when they arrive with me.”

Thallia stared at him. His expression remained perfectly innocent.

“You're enjoying this.”

“A little,” He admitted.

A woman coming out of the café stopped when she saw Leon.

Her gaze shifted to Thallia. Then back to Leon.

Her smile grew. “Morning, Sheriff.”

“Morning, Carol.”

Carol continued down the sidewalk, but not before giving Thallia another openly curious look.

Thallia waited until she was out of earshot. “How long before she calls someone?”

“Carol?”

“Yes.” Thallia pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head.

Leon glanced toward the retreating woman. “She doesn't need to. Half the town already knows.”

Thallia grinned. “Is this from Moab?”

Leon nodded. “Probably from breakfast.”

Thallia groaned and looked down the street at all those curious faces. “Of course it was.”

Leon laughed. “You wanted to find Olympia Springs.”

“I didn't realize Olympia Springs was also going to find me.”

“You'll get used to it,” Leon assured her.

Thallia wasn't entirely convinced she wanted to.

Leon gestured toward the sheriff's office. “Give me ten minutes to check in. Then we'll get your electricity and phone handled.”

“I can start without you.”

Leon hesitated, concern replacing the humor in his expression.

Not alarm this time. Consideration. Thallia recognized exactly what he was thinking.

She folded her arms. “I am not going to collapse because you leave me unsupervised for ten minutes.”

“I didn't say that.”

She unfolded her arms and turned. “You didn't have to.”

Leon hesitated.

He'd been genuinely frightened at the house, and teasing him about it suddenly felt unfair.

“I really am okay.”

His gaze searched her face for another second before he nodded. “All right. The utility office is two doors down. Grocery store is across the street. Hardware is beside it.”

Thallia smiled. “See? Civilization.”

Leon pointed toward the useless phone in her hand. “Don't get cocky. You still don't have cell service.”

She slipped the phone into her purse. “That wound is fresh, Sheriff.”

Leon smiled as he stepped toward the office. “Ten minutes.”

Thallia watched him disappear into the sheriff's office.

Then she turned toward Olympia Springs.

“Thallia Laskari?”

Thallia stopped.

A woman stood in the doorway of the utility office, smiling as though they'd already been introduced.

Thallia pointed lightly toward herself. “Me?”

The woman's smile widened. “Welcome to Olympia Springs.”

There was little point asking how she knew.

Twenty minutes later, Thallia had electricity scheduled to be restored that afternoon and a request submitted to reconnect the Stone House landline. The woman also gave her the number for the local telephone company, directions to the grocery store, and a recommendation for where to replace Evalyn's unfortunate houseplants.

Crossing River Nursery was three blocks off Main Street. Thallia left the Bronco parked near the sheriff's office and walked.

The nursery occupied a broad piece of land beside another branch of the river. A weathered building sat near the entrance, surrounded by covered rows of plants, stacks of pottery, bags of soil, and enough flowers to make Thallia reconsider how many empty windowsills she'd seen at the Stone House.

A fountain stood near the center of the property. She slowed as she passed it. Water spilled from a shallow stone basin into a larger pool below.

Thallia stopped. She knew that fountain. Not from Evalyn. Not from a photograph or some half-forgotten childhood memory.

She had dreamed about it.

The realization sent a chill across her skin. In the dream, she'd seen the fountain from below, the stone rising above her from an angle that made no sense standing here on the path.

Thallia stared at it, trying to pull more of the dream into focus. Nothing came. No explanation or reason for this particular fountain should have found its way into her sleep.

Thallia couldn't dismiss the dreams as her mind rearranging memories while she slept. She had never been here. She had never seen this fountain.

Yet she remembered the shape of the stone. The sound of falling water. Even the strange angle from which she'd seen it.

Her curiosity should have won. Usually, it would have. Instead, uneasiness settled beneath it.

The dream hadn't shown her Olympia Springs. It had shown her this.

Why?

“That's strange,” she murmured.

After another moment, she forced herself to continue toward the greenhouse.

“Need some help?”

She turned.

A man about her age approached carrying an empty plastic flat. Dirt streaked one knee of his jeans, and more of it clung beneath his fingernails.

“Houseplants,” Thallia told him. “Preferably something difficult to kill.”

He smiled. “That's usually what people ask for right before telling me what they killed.”

“In my defense, I didn't kill these. I inherited them dead.”

“That does improve your record.”

Thallia laughed.

He set the flat aside and gestured toward one of the covered aisles. “How much light?”

“I'm not sure yet. I moved in about an hour ago.”

His eyebrows lifted. “You're Evalyn's granddaughter.”

“Great-granddaughter.”

“Right.” He offered his hand. “Jake Mercer.”

“Thallia Laskari.”

Jake's handshake was warm and ordinary.

The pain wasn't.

A sudden ache tightened across the back of Thallia's neck. She released his hand and instinctively reached behind her neck, pressing her fingers against the sore muscles.

Jake noticed. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Thallia rolled one shoulder. “Long drive.”

The ache faded almost as quickly as it had appeared.

Wonderful. Her body had decided thirty-two was the appropriate age to begin falling apart.

Jake led her farther into the nursery, pointing out several plants that could survive a new owner still learning which windows received morning sun. Thallia chose conservatively. Two sturdy green plants, one flowering plant she bought entirely because she liked the color, and a small pot of herbs for the kitchen.

Jake carried the box to the counter for her.

“You'll want to come back once you've figured out the light,” he said. “No sense buying half the nursery today.”

Thallia glanced at the plants he'd selected. “That sounds suspiciously bad for business.”

Jake grinned as he settled the last pot into the box. “I'd rather sell you plants once than replacements every month.”

Thallia liked him immediately. There was an uncomplicated friendliness about Jake that she'd encountered several times already that morning. Nobody seemed too busy to help, and nobody had treated her like an inconvenience.

Chicago had never felt unfriendly to her. Olympia Springs simply felt different. More personal. She wasn't sure yet whether that was comforting or terrifying.

Water moved steadily over the stone. Thallia frowned at it. Then she shook off the feeling and continued toward the Bronco.

The market was small enough that Thallia found everything she needed without wandering far. She stocked the empty kitchen with basics, added enough food to get her through the next few days, and tried not to think about how much more the house probably needed.

At the register, the woman bagging her groceries smiled. “Welcome to Olympia Springs, Thallia.”

Thallia stared at her for half a second. Then she smiled back. “Thank you.”

She wasn't asking about the welcome anymore. By the time Thallia reached the Bronco, she had decided there were fewer people in Olympia Springs who didn't know she'd arrived than people who did.

She was loading the last grocery bag when Leon crossed the street toward her.

“Electricity?” he asked.

“Coming on this afternoon. The telephone might take until tomorrow.” Thallia nodded toward the box of plants already tucked safely behind the passenger seat. “I also replaced some of Grandma's casualties.”

Leon looked into the Bronco. “You bought three.”

“I showed remarkable restraint.”

His mouth twitched. “I'm proud of you.”

She set the last bag down in the back of the Bronco. “You should be , I've accomplished a lot while you were off sheriffing.”

Leon raised an eyebrow. “Sheriffing?”

“Official law-enforcement terminology.” Thallia closed the hatch.

“I must have missed that day at the academy.”

Thallia laughed, then looked toward Main Street. “Now I need food that doesn't require me to discover my kitchen first.”

“I know a place.” He smiled.

“That sentence is becoming very reassuring.”

Leon fell into step beside her. “Jess makes a great sandwich.”