Page 83 of The Souls of Lost Lake

Wren did the only thing she knew to do. She reached for him. Eddie’s arms enveloped her. Wren could feel his pain through the shuddering in his chest. His head bent and hid in the crook of her neck as his hands kneaded into her shoulders.

“I could tell by the way she held me yesterday. It wasn’t the same, Wren. She was leaving, and she knew it.”

“I know.” Wren didn’t resist as Eddie held her tighter.

“I didn’t know what to say,” he confessed, this time tears choking his voice, his breath warm on her neck.

Wren threaded her hand through Eddie’s hair on the back of his head. “She loved you so much.”

“Yeah.” Eddie nodded against her neck. “I just had to watch her fade ... I asked God for just one more day. Every day I prayed for one more. Just one. But yesterday she told me no. She said ‘no more.’ So I didn’t ask for another day. I just—I told myself I’d befine.” Eddie drew back, burying himself in their shared brokenness. “I’m not.” He shook his head. “Wren, I’m not fine.”

She held him. Quieted Eddie with a nurturing “Shhhh.” Eddie was right. In grief, a person was neverfine, they were justthere. Standing there. Alone. In the memory of the one who had taken their heart and flown away.

34

Ava

She’d been right. In the past. When she’d thought there were coals in Noah Pritchard’s eyes. They’d just burst into flames, and by the way he was pacing the sitting room floor, the entire parsonage might go up in smoke.

“Who was it?” he demanded, pausing long enough to rest his hand on his Bible. Drawing on some supernatural strength. The coals dimmed a bit. But just a bit.

Ava sat on the sofa, Hanny next to her as she dabbed at the lip that was now crusted with blood from where it’d continued to bleed after Mrs. Sanderson had dressed it.

Ava shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“How do you not know?” Noah demanded.

“I-I don’t. His voice—he was all growly—and he wore a hat. He didn’t have no beard, though.” Ava berated herself for not knowing. Seemed she should. Seemed downright crazy that she didn’t.

“She was scared, Noah.” Hanny pressed a warm compress to the lip. “When you’re scared, your mind shuts down.”

Ava whimpered.

Noah stilled. Leveled his gaze on them both, as if Hanny and Ava were mutually in trouble. More’n likely, they were all in trouble. “We need to report this. To Larson.”

Ava pushed Hanny’s hand away from her mouth. “I was goin’ there. To the police. When all this happened.”

“Why?” Hanny’s intake of breath went against her assertion that truth be told.

Ava offered her a weak smile of appreciation for the elderly woman’s protectiveness. “’Cause this has gotten way outta hand. No reason Noah needs to get wrapped up in my troubles.”

Noah stilled.

Ava avoided looking at him, directing her attention instead to Hanny. “It’s my lot to deal with. You both have been more than generous to me. I know I’ve done nothin’ wrong. Larson seemed open-minded—”

“Larson had the men bring Jipsy’s body in,” Noah interrupted. “She was stabbed fourteen times. Your name hasnotbeen taken off the table as a potential, Ava.”

“Gracious!” Hanny gasped.

“I should still go in. It’d clear up this mess.”

Noah shook his head. “It won’t clear up anything. Larson said Jipsy’s death doesn’t seem like your work, Ava, but that doesn’t clear you of Hubbard’s. With Chuck Weber breathing in Larson’s ear...” Noah blew out a massive pent-up sigh. “But we can’t have this lunatic attacking you now. We need to report it.”

Ava moved to rise from beside Hanny. Now or never.

“Wait.” Noah sagged onto the worn chair across from them, leaned forward, and rested his elbows on his knees. “I need to know—who was Hubbard to you?”

“Who’s Emmaline toyou?” Ava deflected the only way she could think of. She instantly regretted it.