sip and was pleased he'd remembered I like my coffee with lots of artificial creamer and sweetener. As the hot liquid rolled down my throat my body commenced to thaw from the inside out.
“Any news about Kevin?” I asked Buchanan as we stood in front of the stove stamping our feet as though participating in some primitive dance ritual.
“I'm afraid not,” he said. “Luscious called in a few minutes ago to say there are no leads.”
“Damn!”
I looked up at him. Way up. Buchanan was about six-six, with a sixties Afro that added another four or five inches. “Did you know that the remains they found in the quarry last night could be a boy named Eddie Douglas?”
“Of course,” he said. “Who else could it be?” He must have caught something on my face, because he added, “I guess you wouldn't have known—not being from around here.”
“Coming into a town where all the residents seem to be first or second cousins, I don't know lots of things.”
Our fronts were thoroughly toasted. We turned our icy backs to the stove. “Don't let it worry you, Tori. Time will take care of it.”
“Who was Eddie Douglas?” I asked.
“A little boy who wandered away from his house about thirty-five years ago and never came back. Nobody knew what happened to him—until last night. I was just a kid, myself, but I remember my mom wouldn't let me out of her sight for months.”
I repressed a shudder. “I hope Kevin's story has a happier ending.”
There was no sign that the council meeting was ready to begin, so Buchanan refilled our coffee cups. He handed mine back to me and said, “What's the latest word from our illustrious police chief? Has he finished his Spanish classes at the Foreign Service Institute?”
I was too proud to admit I hadn't heard anything from Garnet in weeks. “He graduated first in his class. And he's been in Costa Rica for nearly a month. As I'm sure Greta has already told you.”
The smile that split Buchanan's dark brown face could have warmed the room. He and Garnet's widowed sister, Greta Carbaugh, had become an item over the past several months. United, they were going to save whales, rain forests, spotted owls, and Chesapeake Bay. They even seemed to enjoy the minor controversy caused by their interracial relationship.
Whenever I saw them together, I couldn't help but feel a tiny twinge of envy. They made me wonder how other people managed to meet, fall in love, and have uncomplicated relationships.
My romance with Garnet Gochenauer was a perfect example of how things always seemed to go wrong for me. As I'd plotted a surprise move to Lickin Creek to be near Garnet, he'd decided there was little job satisfaction to be found as a small-town police chief and took a year's leave of absence to work in Central America. There was a local Pennsylvania Dutch saying that seemed to describe me perfectly: A person who could screw up a one-car funeral.
Marvin Bumbaugh, president of the council, called for the meeting to start, and the council members took their places at the long oak table. Buchanan was on Marvin's right, Jackson Clopper, the borough manager, on his left. Next to Jackson sat Primrose Flack, described last night by Ginnie as “the council's token woman.” Across the table from Primrose was “almost-a-doctor” Matavious Clopper. I wondered what effect the Clopper family feud had on council business. Several visitors joined the council members at the table. When everyone was seated, I took the last empty chair, black and sticky like the others from generations of council meetings.
After the reading of minutes by Primrose and the treasurer's report by Matavious (the borough was still solvent … barely), Marvin turned to Jackson Clopper and asked him what was happening with the search for Kevin.
“No news is good news,” Jackson said. His face was lined, and I guessed he hadn't gotten much sleep last night.
“Nice attitude,” Primrose muttered.
“I'll bet Garnet could find him,” a woman said. It was Bernice Roadcap, once again wearing her politically incorrect, full-length mink coat. She wasn't a council member, but she often attended the meetings to protect her business interests.
After her crack about Garnet, everyone turned to glare at me, as if I had chased Garnet away by moving to town. I ignored them and gave the blank page in my notebook my full attention.
“Let's talk about the downtown Christmas preparations and get the hell out of here,” Marvin said. His breath, warmed by