Mary-Lynnette ignored this. "Claude-what wasAshherefor? What did you talk about?"
"About nothing," Claudine said, exasperated "Justordinary conversation. Since you hate him so much,what difference does it make?" Then, as Mary Lynnette kept looking at her, she sighed. "He was very interested in weird facts about life in the country. All the local stories."
Mary-Lynnette snorted. "Did you tell him about Sasquatch?"
"I told him about Vic and Todd."
Mary-Lynnette froze. "You're jolting Why?"'Because that's the kind of thing he asked about!
People lost in time-"
?Losing time.,?
"Whatever. We were just having a nice conversation. He was a nice boy. Finis. "
Mary-Lynnette's heart was beating fast.
She was right. She was sure of it now. Todd and Vicwereconnected to whatever had happened with the sisters and Mrs. B. But what was the connection? I'm going to go and find out, she thought.
Chapter 7
Finding Todd and Vic turned out not to be easy.
It was late afternoon by the time Mary-Lynnettewalked into the Briar Creek general store, which sold everything from nails to nylons to canned peas.
"Hi, Bunny. I don't suppose you've seen Todd orVic around?"
Bunny Marten looked up from behind the counter. She was pretty, with soft blond hair, a round, dimpled face, and a timid expression. She was in MaryLynnette's class at school. "Did you check over at theGold Creek Bar?"
Mary-Lynnette nodded. "And at their houses, andat the other store, and at the sheriff's office." The sheriff's office was also city hall and the public library.
"Well, if they'renot playing pool, they're usuallyplinking." Plinkingwas shooting atcans for practice.
"Yeah, but where?" Mary-Lynnette said.
Bunny shook her head, earrings glinting. "Yourguess is as good as mine." She hesitated, staring down at her cuticles, which she was pushing back with a little blunt-pointed wooden stick. "But, you know, I've heard they go down to Mad Dog Creeksometimes." Her wide blue eyes lifted to Mary Lynnette's meaningfully.
Mad Dog Creek. . . Oh, great. Mary-Lynnette grimaced.
"I know." Bunny raised her shoulders in a shiver."I wouldn't go down there. I'd be thinking about that body the whole time."
"Yeah, me, too. Well, thanks, Bun. See you."
Bunny examined her cuticles critically. "Good hunting," she said absently.
Mary-Lynnette went out of the store, squinting in the hot, hazy August sunlight. Main Street wasn'tbig. It had a handful of brick and stone buildingsfrom the days when Briar Creek had been a gold rush supply town, and a few modem frame buildings with peeling paint. Todd and Vic weren't in any of them.
Well, what now? Mary-Lynnette sighed. There was no road to Mad Dog Creek, only a trail that was constantly blocked by new growth and deadfall. And everyone knew more than plinking went on there.
If they're out there, they're probably hunting, she thought. Not to mention drinking, maybe using drugs.
Guns and beer. And then there's that body.
The body had been found last year around thistime. A man; a hiker, from his backpack. Nobody knew who he was or how he'd died-the corpse wastoo desiccated and chewed by animals to tell. But people talked about ghosts floating around the creek last winter.
Mary-Lynnette sighed again and got into her station wagon.
The car was ancient, it was rusty, it made alarming sounds when forced to accelerate, but it was hers, andMary-Lynnette did her best to keep it alive. She loved it because there was plenty of room in back to store her telescope.
At Briar Creek's only gas station she fished a scrolled fruit knife from under the seat and went to work, prying at the rusty gas cap cover.
A little higher up . . . almost, almost . . . now twist ...
The cover flew open.
"Ever think of going into the safecracking business?" a voice behind her said. "You've got the touch."
Mary-Lynnette turned. "Hi, Jeremy."
He smiled-a smile that showed mostly in his eyes,which were dear brown with outrageously darklashes.
If I were going to fall for a guy-and I'm not-itwould be for somebody like him.Not for a big blond cat who thinks he can pick his sisters' friends.
It was a moot point, anyway-Jeremy didn't goout with girls. He was a loner.
"Want me to look under the hood?" He wiped his hands on a rag.
"No, thanks. I just checked everything last week." Mary-Lynnette started to pump gas.
He picked up a squeegee and a spray bottle and began to wash the windshield. His movements were deft and gentle and his face was utterly solemn.
Mary-Lynnette had to swallow a giggle herself, butshe appreciated him not laughing at the pitted glass and corroded windshield wipers. She'd always had an odd feeling of kinship with Jeremy. He was the only person in Briar Creek who seemed even slightlyinterested in astronomy-he'd helped her build a model of the solar system in eighth grade, and ofcourse he'd watched last year's lunar eclipse with her.
His parents had died in Medford when he was justa baby, and his uncle brought him to Briar Creek in a Fleetwood trailer. The uncle was strange-alwayswandering off to dowse for gold in the Klamath wil derness. One day he didn't come back.
After that, Jeremy lived alone in the . trailer in the woods. He did odd jobs and worked at the gas station to make money. And if his clothes weren't as nice assome of the other kids', he didn't care-or he didn't let it show.
The handle of the gas hose clicked in MaryLynnette's hand. She realized she had been daydreaming.
"Anything else?" Jeremy said. The windshieldwas dean.
"No ... well, actually, yes. You haven't, um, seenTodd Akers or Vic Kimble today, have you?"