table. Were those Bibles open in front of them? Shoot, what had he just interrupted?
Sam caught the question in his eyes. “Uh, men’s Bible study. What are you doing here? Thought you’d be working at Jen’s.”
“I should be. But I lost my coworker.”
He’d introduced Noah to Sam Sunday morning. The conversation had lasted all of five minutes—partially because of Noah’s hostile silence, mostly because Sam had been out the door on his way to church. Huh, he’d known Sam was a more dedicated churchgoer than himself, but Bible study, too?
And why was the fellow with the gray hair at the end of the table giving off a less-than-friendly vibe as he watched Lucas? Maybe they’d been mid-prayer or something.
Or maybe it was his appearance. He could still feel his arms vibrating from hours of chainsaw use this morning as he’d worked on that fallen tree. He looked down at his dirt- and grass-stained white t-shirt and flannel shirt. His faded jeans fared little better, and he couldn’t remember when he’d last shaved.
He returned his focus to Sam. “Any chance you’ve seen Noah?”
Sam shook his head. “No, but ask around and you’ll find him easily enough.”
“That’s what I figured. I’ll let you get back to what you were doing.”
He was halfway across the coffee shop, debating whether it was worth waiting in line so he could ask Megan if Noah had been by, when he heard Sam call after him.
“Wait up, Luke.”
He paused, felt the warmth of streaming sunlight pouring through the coffee shop’s front windows. Perfect day to be working outside. He shouldn’t be wasting it chasing down someone who couldn’t appreciate the value of a good day’s work.
“You didn’t need to leave your study, Sam. Sorry I interrupted.”
Sam waved off the apology and motioned toward the exit. “We were almost done. Besides, been meaning to talk to you. But considering you apparently don’t live at the Everwood anymore, it’s not as easy to catch you these days.”
Was there an undercurrent of tension in Sam’s tone? He stepped into the sunlight, a crisp, autumn cool washing over him. The trees across the road dotting the grassy knoll that curved toward the riverbank were just beginning to speckle with color.
“It makes sense to stay at Jen’s cottage. I’m kind of working for her now.”
Sam didn’t reply right away, and for a strange moment, Lucas almost wished he hadn’t honed his skills of observation quite so keenly in his years with Bridgewell. Then maybe he wouldn’t have noticed the way Sam’s grip on his Bible tightened. Or that one vein in his neck that protruded just so whenever he was on the brink of getting upset.
But why the heck should he care that Lucas had offered to help Jen? Or was it the living-in-the-cottage part that bothered him?
“About that Bible study group, by the way,” Sam said. “I’ve thought about inviting you a few times but—”
“It’s okay, Sam. I’m not pouting at being left out. And I’ve got a missing guy to find so I should be on my way.” He moved toward the crosswalk. The next most crowded place in town would likely be the bakery. He’d try there next.
But Sam’s voice from behind slowed his steps. “When are you leaving?”
He felt the breath in his lungs go cold, a rigid and strained silence stretching in the air between them as he turned. He squinted against the bright rays of the sun. “What?”
“I know you, Luke. You’ve been antsy for weeks. You might’ve stayed in Maple Valley longer this stint, but I can’t shake the feeling it’s only a matter of time.”
“You have a feeling.” His own voice came out murky and hoarse. Antsy? Is that what Sam thought? That he was driven by restlessness?
“I’m a cop. I get feelings. And they’re usually on the mark.”
“Then I don’t know why you’re asking me anything if you’re so sure of your intuition.” He crossed the street, moving toward the path that traced the river. This wasn’t what he’d come downtown for. He needed to find Noah and get back to work at Jen’s and figure out how to get the kid talking.
Sam’s long strides matched his own. “I don’t know why you’re being weird about this. It was a simple question.”
Except it had anything but a simple answer. “Sam—”
“You have friends who care about you, Danby. You have a family. If you’re planning on skipping town again—”
Frustration crowded out his reticence. “Fine, yes, I’m leaving, okay? Is that what you wanted to