Page 66 of Last Seen
“That’s ... an interesting reaction to a possible missing person.”
Boone leans forward and speaks quietly. “You didn’t hear it from me, but Cameron’s lazy. His dad owns all of this, you know. Miles Brockton is a legend around here. The Brockton boys all have a role, but it’s Miles who runs the show. If Miles had told Cameron to leave no stone unturned, he would have. But he didn’t. It was more the opposite, actually. Miles wouldn’t want that sort of bad publicity.”
“So the sheriff is the son of the town’s founder?”
“Oh, yes. All of Miles’s boys work here. Cameron is the sheriff, and you already met Noah, he’s the chef and in charge of the restaurants. Stick around a few days and you’ll meet Elliot and Chase, too. They run the farm and school respectively. The oldest is trouble, if you ask me. Charms the larks from the trees, but only to eat them. He’s sly. Be careful if you ever come across him.”
“Cameron? The sheriff?”
She blinks heavily, her face paling. A hand goes up to cover her mouth.
“Are you okay?”
“I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Oh, seriously, don’t worry. I would never share. We’re in the cone of silence right now, as far as I’m concerned.” She draws an invisible circle around them.
Boone watches her. Halley sits under the gaze, unmoving. She doesn’t want to startle her away.
“In that case, I have to tell you, Halley. Cat is not the only person who went missing from Brockville. There was another, a young writer from France. A few years before Cat. I wasn’t here then, I heard about it from another teacher.”
Halley’s heart does a quick rhumba. This is news. “Can you give me the teacher’s name? Can I speak with her?”
“Unfortunately, she passed away. But there was a woman in the FBI who came to town looking for that writer. The agency she was represented by asked them to look into it. The circumstances were similar.”
“So is that why you think something happened to Cat, instead of her leaving on her own? Because it had happened before, and Cameron didn’t really look into her disappearance? He didn’t want to make waves and have it get out that women disappeared when they came to Brockville?”
Fear crashes over Boone’s features, and her tone changes. “Oh, no. I would never say that. My God, I really have had too much to drink. I’m spreading rumors now. I should get going. I just thought it strange that your sister left when she’d finally gotten what she so wanted, but what do I know?”
My God. That’s quite a bombshell.
“Thank you, Ms. Boone,” she says, reaching over to pat the woman’s hand. “I appreciate all of this. I agree, I can’t imagine Cat would justwalk away from her lifelong dream.” She starts to rise, but Boone shoots her a confused glance and doesn’t move, so she sinks back down.
The woman’s tone is accusatory. “I thought you said you didn’t know anything about her?”
“I don’t, not really. I’ve been talking to her friends. They agree with you that something happened to her, that she wouldn’t have just disappeared from the life she’d built.”
Boone nods, glances over her shoulder, and leans forward again. The woman is mercurial, and flighty. The drink, maybe. Or being a writer, an artist. “It didn’t make sense. She was clearly affected by the critique of her work that day, and believe me, it can be incredibly rough your first time. I’ve had writers here who fall apart and can’t hack it. But she wasn’t like that. It was as if she was detached from the criticism. She heard it all, she wanted to change the story and make it better, but she wasn’t ... defeated, I guess is the best term. I’ve not met a lot of young authors who can handle a room full of critics with such a blasé attitude.”
“Any chance you have the story?”
“Hmm ... I might. The sheriff has all her things, but I bet I have a copy. I would have kept it, in case she ever came back and wanted my help. Do you want it?”
“That would be amazing. Maybe there’s a clue there as to her state of mind.”
And maybe there’s something that will explain what happened.
“It will have to be tomorrow. I need to find it. It will be in my files, but I’m in no condition to go looking.”
“Tomorrow is fine. Thank you.”
“Are you staying here?”
“The kids at the store were going to check if the Inn had any rooms available.”
“Okay. Meet me tomorrow morning at the retreat cabin. Nine.” She stands. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a dinner to get back to.”
“Of course. Thank you so much, Ms. Boone.”
