"No problem. If she's home, we might stand a better chance of dragging her out if we approach her in person, right?"
"Right," Lily agreed, her smile broadening.
Natalie looked out the car window. The storm seemed to have blown the atmosphere clean. The sky was cerulean blue with a few clouds hanging like puffs of cotton candy. A light breeze ruffled tree leaves that still bore the fresh green of spring. Cooler temperatures around the lake always resulted in later blooming than in the middle of Ohio where Natalie lived. Although it was June, a few stubborn forsythia bushes held yellow blooms to the sun. On a glorious day like this, she could almost forget her hurt over Kenny Davis. Almost.
"That's Tam's and Warren 's new house," Lily said, pointing ahead to a large Cape Cod painted pale yellow with slate blue shutters.
"I didn't realize it was out of the city limits. It's so near Ariel Saunders's house."
"That place is falling to ruin. It's a shame."
"Why hasn't the County Historical Society done something?"
"Don't you remember that Viveca Cosgrove is Ariel and Zebediah's only surviving descendent? She owns the house. She should donate it to the Historical Society but she wants to sell it to them for an outrageous price."
"That sounds like Viveca."
"Exactly. She's still holding onto that piece of property The Blue Lady is on, too, although Dad tells me she's thinking of selling it to someone who wants to rebuild the hotel."
"I'd love to see the hotel rebuilt!" Natalie paused. "So she's still dating your dad?"
"For a year. I think that's a record for her. Tam and I are not happy about it, but Dad is just over the moon about her."
"Viveca strikes again. I'm glad my father didn't fall for her. At least I don't think he did. How's her daughter Alison?"
"Crazy as a loon, but I'm not supposed to say so." Lily pulled a face. "She's a patient of Warren 's. She used to see some psychiatrist in Toledo, but for some reason she switched, even though Warren is a psychologist and can't prescribe drugs, which I think she needs." Lily slowed down and pulled into the driveway of the Cape Cod. Ahead of them sat a new blue Ford Contour. "That's Tamara's car, but look at it. It's covered with twigs and leaves. They must be from the storm last night. Tam wouldn't leave a car, especially a new one, sitting beneath a tree in a storm. She'd put it in the garage."
"Maybe the garage door is broken," Natalie suggested.
"That happened at Kenny's condo one time. A cable broke and he couldn't get the door up."
"I don't know," Lily said doubtfully. "If that were the case, she would at least have moved it from beneath the tree where a limb could have fallen on it." She got out of the Corvette and headed for the front porch. "Here's the morning newspaper. Tam always reads the paper while she drinks her morning coffee."
Natalie followed Lily across the lawn. Although the sun shone brightly and the temperature was in the mid-seventies, the ground still felt slightly spongy. The rain had lasted for hours last night.
"And look at this living room window!" Lily called, alarm edging her voice. "It's raised about three inches. The sheer curtains are water-stained. Tam would never leave a window up during a storm."
"It's just one window." Natalie tried to sound calm although her own nerves tingled. "It's easy to forget a window."
Lily had backed off the porch and stood on the lawn looking upward. "There's another open window upstairs. It's her bedroom window. Don't tell me she forgot that one!"
There was nothing else comforting Natalie could say. Clearly something was wrong. "Okay, what do we do first? Call the police?"
"The police?" Lily shook her head. "No. Sheriff Purdue would have listened to me, but we've got a new guy from New York City."
" New York City? Here?"
"Yeah. His name is Meredith and he left New York because of some tragedy involving his wife. Anyway, he goes by the book. He'll say Tam hasn't been gone long enough to be declared missing or some damned excuse for not doing anything." She ran her hands through her hair. "Tam usually takes a walk after dinner. Maybe she fell."
Natalie glanced up and down the street with its scattering of large, new houses. "Which direction did she walk?"
"Not the street. Tam walked Hyacinth Lane that leads to Ariel Saunders's house." She walked out onto the lawn and pointed. "Maybe Tam walked all the way to the house. Maybe now she's lying hurt in that house and I didn't sense it because I'm so wrapped up in myself and-"
"Lily!" Natalie shouted, hurrying to catch up with her. "Let's just keep calm until we search the lane and the house."
"And if she's not around?"
"We'll call Warren."
"I don't know where he's staying."
"There can't be that many psychology conventions going on in Cleveland right now. We'll find him."
"And if he didn't talk to Tamara last night?"
"Then we'll have to call your jerk of a sheriff. But let's not go off the deep end. Getting hysterical won't help us find Tamara."
Lily drew a deep breath. "You're right. You were always the voice of reason. It's just that Tam has seemed so unhappy lately, so vulnerable. If only I'd paid more attention to her-" She broke off. "What is that noise?"
Natalie had been vaguely aware of the noise for a few moments. Leaves brushing together. Twigs snapping. They both stood still. Everything went quiet. Even the birds stopped chirping. A line from a Keats poem floated through Natalie's head: "And no birds sang."
"Something's in the brush," Lily hissed.
"I know." Natalie kneeled. "Come here. Come to me. It's all right."
"What are you doing?"
"Lily, be quiet for a minute." Natalie peered into the dense undergrowth. "Come." She held out her hand, palm down. "I won't hurt you," she said in a gentle voice. The words weren't important but the tone was. "It's all right…"
More rustling. Then she saw the head. Long snout, mostly tan. Small ears, brown. Black body. "Come." The dog came to Natalie at a crouch, as if it expected to be struck. When it finally reached her hand, it sniffed twice and whimpered.
"The dog in my dream," Lily murmured.
"I thought in your dream you only heard howling."
"I did, too, until I saw this dog." Lily's voice rose. "Nat, it was this dog howling in the rain. What kind is it?"
"Mixed breed." Natalie stroked the head, then rubbed the ears. The dog rose a bit, losing some of its fear. "I'd say part Airedale." She bent her head. "Female. She's never given birth." The dog now stood at full height. "No collar. Long scratch on the face probably from a locust tree branch."
"It must be a stray," Lily said.
Natalie massaged the dog's neck, noting that its already wiry hair was even stiffer there. Oh, please don't let it have rolled in some foul-smelling dead thing, Natalie prayed. She brought her hands away. They looked reddish, rusty. She sniffed them, then looked at the dog. It whined. Her heart beating faster, Natalie placed gentle hands on either side of the dog's head and tilted it. She wasn't surprised at what she found.