saw him and Lindy together?”
“Fletch had his choice of high school girls, but I guess I can see him going after Lindy. I would imagine she didn’t give him the time of day so he might have liked the challenge. Poor fool.”
“So you really weren’t one of the poor fools?”
Mac could have taken the question badly, but he didn’t. He smiled. “I was twenty-five, green, scared, right out of college and not sure I could do this. I was terrified of all of them, especially the girls. High school age students can be tough on you.”
Shep chuckled to himself, thinking that middle school students could be as well.
“But I found I loved teaching and that the students were as scared as I was. There are always those students you can’t reach. But the ones you can? The ones whose eyes light up when they start finding meaning in the written word? They make it all worthwhile.”
“Lindy?”
“Unfortunately, she wasn’t one of them. She pretended not to get it for attention. It wasn’t that she wasn’t smart. She just didn’t care.”
“She didn’t come on to you.”
Mac laughed. “Of course she did. But even if I hadn’t been newly married and her teacher, I wasn’t interested. Lindy was trouble. I felt sorry for her, but there wasn’t much I could do to help her.”
Shep rose from his chair. “Thanks for your time.”
“Thank you for stopping by. I really suck at frosting Christmas cookies so you saved me.” Mac grinned. “You should have at least one cookie before you take off. You said you’re a friend of Charlie’s,” he said as he got to his feet. “She was one of my better students.”
“She’s doing okay.”
“I’m glad to hear that. If you’re going to see her, take her a cookie, too.” Mac led the way to the back door where he had his wife wrap up a couple of giant cookies.
“I hope you find her killer,” Mac said as he handed Shep the package. “Her death must have been hard on Charlie.”
“It was.”
* * *
CHARLIE RUSHED TOWARD the restaurant exit, determined to escape as quickly as possible. She threw open the door, practically throwing herself out as well, and crashed into a woman who’d apparently been standing there waiting for someone. It wasn’t until she looked into the woman’s face that Charlie realized who this woman had been waiting for. Her.
With a jolt of horror, she found herself face-to-face with her dead stepsister.
Charlie was actually holding on to Lindy’s arm to steady them both and looking directly into the blue eyes she still saw in her nightmares.
The shock of it immobilized her.
Lindy pushed her off and rushed into the crowd of Christmas shoppers. Charlie stared after her, mouth agape. Caught so completely off guard, for a moment she didn’t even realize what she was holding in her hand—the blue scarf Lindy had been wearing. She must have grabbed hold of the scarf as Lindy pushed away from her.
The woman had been Lindy. There was no doubt. No ghost. Flesh and blood. Lindy was alive—as impossible as it seemed. And Charlie was holding her scarf.
Only seconds had passed. She could still see Lindy making her way through the crowd. Maybe it made no sense, but the one person who could provide the answers wasn’t going to get away. Not this time.
Charlie started after her. She’d always been faster than Lindy when they were girls. She would catch her.
But before she could get two steps away, someone grabbed the sleeve of her coat and swung her around.
She found herself looking into Amanda’s angry face. The woman reeked of alcohol and seemed to be having a hard time standing without holding on to Charlie’s sleeve. Charlie tried to free herself from Amanda’s death grip on her coat sleeve. She was still shaken, not just from seeing Lindy, but actually colliding with her. That surprised look in Lindy’s eyes... She hadn’t planned on that happening either.
“I want to talk to you, bitch,” Amanda slurred, grabbing hold of her again. “Now!”
“Not a chance in hell,” Charlie said, and tore Amanda’s hand from her sleeve. Turning, she hurried down the sidewalk, still hoping she might be able to catch up to Lindy.
But in the few blocks to her apartment, she didn’t see Lindy again.
Thanks to Amanda’s clawlike hold on her coat sleeve, she’d missed her chance. Lindy had gotten away. Again.
But in Charlie’s hand was the scarf—Lindy’s favorite. She stopped trying to make sense out of it as she reached the