he admitted after he put the cup down.
She blinked at him in surprise. She wasn’t used to him being so straight with her. Should she have somehow known that he’d been upset? Had the weight of what had happened to her made her oblivious to other people’s concerns?
She sipped her coffee as she formulated her response, remembering her own feelings when she’d realized Justin had taken her phone.
“Were the paintings valuable?” she asked.
Mordecai took another sip of coffee, and light streaming through the curtains filigreed the gray stubble on his chin. “One of them was a landscape I painted for your grandmother. The other was just something my father picked up at an estate sale when I was a kid. No money in either of them.”
He scratched his chin and rested his hand on the table. His face changed, hardened. “The silver belonged to your grandmother, and before her, my mother. I was planning on giving it to you someday when you got married.” Pink rose in his cheeks. “Whole family heirloom thing, you know.”
She stared at him, touched. She had nothing from her parents, thanks to the earthquake and house fire caused by it, and the thought of having something like that was beautiful. White-hot anger flashed through her as she realized the thieves hadn’t just stolen from him but also from her.
“Do the police have any leads? Is there a place around here that someone would go to pawn something like that?”
“Pat already put the word out.”
She reached across the table and gripped his hand. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered around the sudden lump in her throat. “You know there’s places online where you can buy old silver patterns and things like that. My mom sold some of her stuff after Dad died.”
“Then I’m glad she never wanted your grandmother’s,” he said with a sad smile. “No, it’s irreplaceable. My dad was a silversmith. He made each piece by hand for my mom.”
Katelyn blinked in surprise. “My great-grandfather was a silversmith?”
“Your dad didn’t tell you that? He was a fine craftsman. The shame of it is those pieces of silverware were the only things he made that I had.”
That was when she realized just how much she and her grandfather had in common. They’d both lost everyone, everything that really mattered to them. Maybe fate had put them together for a reason. Maybe someday she could even find him something that his dad had made.
If Mr. Fenner didn’t kill both of them first.
Katelyn had hated leaving her grandfather alone in the cabin, but she finally did. She made it into her history class just as the bell was ringing. Mrs. Walker was substituting for Mr. Henderson again. A few minutes into the hour, Sergeant Lewis and Mr. Hastings strode into the room and Mrs. Walker looked up from her book as the students fell quiet and expectantly waited to find out what was up. Katelyn could feel her own chest tighten, and her skin prickled with anxiety. Had they found Mr. Henderson? Cordelia?
Mr. Hastings cleared his throat. The look on his face spoke volumes — something was terribly wrong. Katelyn's thoughts flew again to Cordelia.
“Students,” he began, “I wanted to let you know that Mr. Henderson has officially been declared a missing person.”
Gasps rose up from around the room. Katelyn tensed, in case there was more bad news. In her experience, it usually came in threes, or fours, or sixes.
“Now, if anyone knows anything, we’d appreciate you coming forward and telling us so that we can find him quickly, before anything . . .” He trailed off.
Before anything bad happens to him, Katelyn filled in. But he knows that something bad might have already happened to Mr. Henderson.
In the front row, a girl raised her hand.
Mr. Hastings acknowledged her. “Yes, Gretchen?”
“What about Cordelia? She hasn’t been in school all week.”
Katelyn had been wondering how long it would be before people started to question Cordelia’s absence. When Katelyn had first moved to Wolf Springs, Trick had warned her that gossip and rumors moved with G4 speed — the only G4 there was to be had in town.
“Cordelia’s family has contacted the school about her situation,” Mr. Hastings said. “It’s a private matter that we’re not at liberty to discuss.”
That caused several more ripples through the room. Katelyn wondered what story the Fenners had concocted.
Gretchen leaned sideways and whispered to another girl, “They were close, Mr. Henderson and Cordelia.”
Katelyn’s face went hot and she closed her eyes in dismay. No,