"There's been a lot to research," he said.

Alvin looked at his friend, sensing that something was off. It seemed almost as if they'd had a lovers' quarrel and gotten over it but were still licking their wounds. Which was a lot to have happen in a single morning.

"Well . . . good," he said, deciding to drop it for now. Instead, he looked over the entries as Rachel came sauntering toward the table.

"Hey, Lex, hey, Jeremy," she said as she approached. "Hey, Alvin."

Alvin looked up. "Rachel!" he said.

"I thought you told me you were coming in for breakfast," she said. "I'd just about given up on you."

"I'm sorry about that," he said. He glanced at Jeremy and Lexie. "I guess I slept in."

Reaching into her ap.r.o.n, Rachel pulled out a small pad and retrieved the pencil she kept behind her ear. She dabbed the tip with her tongue. "Now, what can I get y'all?"

Jeremy ordered a sandwich; Alvin asked for the lobster bisque and a sandwich as well. Lexie shook her head. "I'm not that hungry," she said. "But is Doris around?"

"No, she didn't come in today. She was tired and decided to take the day off. She worked late last night getting things ready for the weekend."

Lexie tried to read her expression.

"Really, Lex," Rachel added, her voice serious. "There's nothing to worry about. She sounded fine on the phone."

"Maybe I should go check on her, anyway," Lexie said. She looked around the table for confirmation before rising. Rachel moved aside to make room.

"Would you like me to come with you?" Jeremy asked.

"No, that's okay," she said. "You've got work to do, and I've got things to do, too. Would you like to meet up at the library later? You wanted to finish looking through the diaries, didn't you?"

"If that's okay," he said, stung by the nonchalance in her tone. He would rather have spent the rest of the afternoon with her.

"How about if I meet you there at four?" she suggested.

"That's fine," he said. "But let me know what's going on, okay?"

"Like Rachel said, I'm sure she's fine. But I'm going to grab her notebook from the backseat, if that's okay."

"Yeah, of course."

She looked at Alvin. "Nice meeting you, Alvin."

"You, too."

A moment later, Lexie was gone and Rachel was on her way back to the kitchen. As soon as they were out of earshot, Alvin leaned across the table.

"Okay, my friend, spill it."

"What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. First you fall for her. Then you spend the night together. But when you show up at the jail, you both act like you barely know each other. And just now she makes the first excuse she can to get out of here."

"Doris is her grandmother," Jeremy explained, "and Lexie worries about her. She's not in the best of health."

"Whatever," Alvin said, clearly skeptical. "My point is, you've been staring at her like a lonely puppy dog, and she's been doing her best to pretend you aren't. Did you two have a fight or something?"

"No," he said. He paused, glancing around the restaurant. At the corner table, he saw three members of the town council, as well as the elderly volunteer from the library. They all waved at him. "Actually, I don't know what it was. One minute everything was great, and then later . . ."

When he didn't continue, Alvin leaned back in the booth. "Yeah, well, it wasn't going to last, anyway."

"It might have," Jeremy insisted.

"Oh, yeah? What? Were you planning to move down here to the Twilight Zone? Or is she coming to New York?"

Jeremy folded and refolded his napkin without answering, not wanting to be reminded of the obvious.

In the silence, Alvin raised his eyebrows. "I definitely have to spend more time with this lady," he said. "I haven't seen someone get under your skin like this since Maria."

Jeremy looked up wordlessly, knowing that his friend was right.

Doris was lying propped up in bed, looking over her reading gla.s.ses when Lexie peeked in her bedroom door.

"Doris?" Lexie asked.

"Lexie," she cried, "what are you doing here? Come in, come in . . ."

Doris set aside the open book in her lap. She was still in her pajamas, and though her skin had a slightly grayish cast, she looked otherwise okay.

Lexie crossed the room. "Rachel said you stayed home today, and I just wanted to check on you."

"Oh, I'm fine. Just a little off today, that's all. But I thought you were supposed to be at the beach."

"I was," she said, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. "But I had to come back."

"Oh?"

"Jeremy showed up," she said.

Doris raised her hands as if in surrender. "Don't blame me. I didn't tell him where you were. And I didn't tell him to go looking for you, either."

"I know." Lexie gave Doris's arm a rea.s.suring squeeze.

"Then how did he know where to find you?"

Lexie brought her hands together in her lap. "I told him the other day about the cottage, and he put two and two together. You can't believe how surprised I was when I saw him walking up the beach."

Doris eyed Lexie carefully before sitting up a little straighter. "So . . . you two were at the beach house last night?"

Lexie nodded.

"And?"

Lexie didn't answer right away, but after a moment, her lips formed a small smile. "I made him your famous tomato sauce."

"Oh?"

"He was impressed," she said. Lexie ran her hand through her hair. "I brought your notebook back, by the way. It's in the living room."

Doris slipped off her reading gla.s.ses and began wiping the lenses with the corner of her sheet. "None of this explains why you're back, though."

"Jeremy needed a ride. A friend from New York-a cameraman-came down to film the lights. They're going to film tonight, too."

"What's his friend like?"

Lexie hesitated, thinking about it. "He looks like a cross between a punk rocker and a motorcycle gang member, but other than that . . . he's okay."

When she grew silent, Doris reached over and took Lexie's hand. Squeezing it gently, she studied her granddaughter.

"Do you want to talk about why you're really here?"

"No," Lexie answered, tracing the seams of Doris's quilt with her finger. "Not really. This is something I have to figure out on my own."

Doris nodded. Lexie always put on a brave front. At times, she knew it was best to say nothing at all.

Seventeen.

Jeremy glanced at his watch as he stood on the porch at Herbs, waiting for Alvin to finish his conversation with Rachel. Alvin was giving it his best shot, and Rachel seemed to be in no rush to say good-bye, which normally would have been considered a good omen. Yet, to Jeremy's eye, Rachel seemed less interested in Alvin than in simply being polite, and Alvin wasn't reading her cues. Then again, Alvin always had trouble reading cues.

When Alvin and Rachel finally parted, Alvin joined Jeremy, a big grin on his face, as if he'd already forgotten about the events of last night. Which he probably had.

"Did you see that?" he whispered when he was close. "I think she likes me."

"What's not to like?"

"Exactly my point," he agreed. "Man, she's something. I love the way she talks. It's so . . . s.e.xy."

"You think everything is s.e.xy," Jeremy observed.

"That's not true," he protested. "Only most things."

Jeremy smiled. "Well, maybe you'll see her tonight at the dance. We might be able to drop in before we head out to film again."

"There's a dance tonight?"

"At the old tobacco barn. I hear the whole town turns out. I'm sure she'll be there."

"Good," Alvin said, stepping off the porch. But then, almost to himself, he added, "I wonder why she didn't mention it."

Rachel absently leafed through her order tickets, as she watched Alvin leave the restaurant with Jeremy.

She'd been a little standoffish when he first took a seat beside her at Lookilu, but once he mentioned what he was doing in town and that he knew Jeremy, they struck up a conversation, and he spent most of the next hour telling her about New York. He made it sound like paradise itself, and when she mentioned that she hoped to take a trip there someday, he'd scribbled his phone number on the cover of her notepad and said to give him a call. He'd even promised to get her tickets to the Regis and Kelly Regis and Kelly show if she wanted. show if she wanted.

As flattering as the gesture was, she knew she wouldn't call. She'd never been too keen on tattoos, and though she hadn't had much luck with men over the years, she had long made it a point never to date someone who had more piercings in his ear than she did. But that wasn't her only reason for her lack of interest, she had to admit; Rodney also had something to do with it.

Rodney often visited the Lookilu to make sure that no one would try to drive while inebriated, and pretty much everyone who spent any time there knew there was a chance that he'd be dropping in sometime during the night. He'd move around the bar, say h.e.l.lo to various folks, and if he got the feeling that you were too far gone, he'd let you know what he was thinking and mention that he'd be watching for your car later. While it sounded intimidating-and probably was if you were drinking too much-he'd also add that he'd be happy to drive you home. It was his way of keeping drunks off the road, and in the past four years, he hadn't needed to make a single arrest. Even the owner of the Lookilu didn't mind him coming in anymore; oh, he'd moaned about the thought of a deputy patrolling the lounge in the beginning, but since no one seemed to mind, he'd gradually come to accept it, and he'd even begun calling Rodney when he thought there was someone in the bar who needed a ride.

Last night, Rodney had come in like he always did, and it didn't take long for him to spot Rachel sitting at the bar. In the past, he usually smiled and would come over to visit, but this time, when he saw her with Alvin, there was a moment when she thought he looked almost hurt. It was an unexpected reaction, but almost as quickly as it appeared, it pa.s.sed, and all of a sudden, he looked angry. In a way, it seemed almost as if he were jealous, and she supposed that was the reason she left the bar right after he did. During the ride home, she kept replaying the scene, trying to figure out if she'd really seen what she had, or whether she'd simply been imagining it. Later, when she was lying in bed, she concluded that she wouldn't have been upset at all if Rodney had been jealous.

Maybe, she thought, there was hope for them yet.

After picking up Alvin's car, which had remained parked on the street near Lookilu, Jeremy and Alvin drove to Greenleaf. Alvin took a quick shower, Jeremy threw on a change of clothes, and the two of them spent the next couple of hours going over what Jeremy had learned. For Jeremy, it was a method of escape; concentrating on work was the only way he knew to keep himself from worrying about Lexie.

Alvin's tapes were as extraordinary as he'd promised, especially when compared with the ones Jeremy had shot. Their clarity and crispness, combined with slow-motion playback, made it easy to pick out details that Jeremy had missed in the rush of the moment. Even better, there were a few frames that Jeremy could isolate and freeze, which he knew would help viewers understand what was actually being shown.

From there, Jeremy walked Alvin through the historic time line using the references he'd found to interpret what was being seen. But as Jeremy continued to lay out the proof in intricate detail-all three versions of the legend; maps, notes on quarries, water tables, and schedules; various construction projects; and the detailed aspects of refracted light-Alvin began to yawn. He'd never been interested in the nitty-gritty of Jeremy's work, and he finally convinced Jeremy to drive him across the bridge to the paper mill so he could see the place himself. They spent a few minutes looking around the yard, watching timber being loaded onto platforms, and on their way back through town, Jeremy pointed out where they'd be filming later. From there, they headed to the cemetery so Alvin could get some footage during the daytime.

Alvin set up the camera in various locations while Jeremy paced on his own, the stillness of the cemetery forcing his thoughts back to Lexie and his worries about her. He remembered their night together and tried once again to understand what had made her rise from the bed in the middle of the night. Despite her denials, he knew she was feeling regret, maybe even remorse, about what had happened, but even that didn't make sense to him.

Yes, he was leaving, but he'd told her repeatedly that they would find a way to make it work. And yes, it was true that they didn't know each other well, but considering the short time they'd been together, he'd learned enough to know that he could love her forever. All they needed was a chance.

But Alvin, he thought, had been right. Whatever her concerns about Doris, her behavior this morning suggested that she'd been looking for an excuse to get away from him. What he wasn't sure of, however, was whether it was because she loved him and thought it would be easier to distance herself from him now, or because she didn't love him and didn't want to spend more time with him.

Last night, he'd been sure that she felt the same way that he did. But now . . .

He wished they could have spent the afternoon together. He wanted to hear her concerns and alleviate them; he wanted to hold her and kiss her and convince her that he would find a way to make their relationship work, no matter how hard that might be. He wanted to make her hear his words: that he couldn't imagine a life without her, that his feelings for her were real. But most of all, he wanted to rea.s.sure himself that she felt the same way about him.

In the distance, Alvin was hauling the camera and tripod to another location, lost in his own world and oblivious to Jeremy's worries. Jeremy sighed before realizing that he'd drifted to the part of the cemetery where Lexie had vanished from sight the first time he saw her here.

He hesitated for a moment, a hunch taking root in his mind, then began searching the grounds, pausing every few steps. It took only a few minutes until he spotted the obvious. Making his way over a small ridge, he stopped at the foot of an untamed azalea bush. Twigs and branches surrounded it, but the area in front seemed to have been tended to. Squatting down, he reset the flowers she must have been carrying in her bag, and he suddenly understood why neither Doris nor Lexie wanted people trampling through the cemetery.

In the gray light, he stared at the graves of Claire and James Darnell, wondering why he hadn't figured it out before.

On the way back from the cemetery, Jeremy dropped Alvin off at Greenleaf for a nap, then returned to the library, rehearsing what he wanted to say to Lexie.

He noticed the library was more crowded than usual, at least on the outside. People were milling on the sidewalk in groups of two or three, pointing upward and gazing at the architecture, as if getting an early jump on the Historic Homes Tour. Most seemed to be holding the same brochure that Doris had sent Jeremy and were reading aloud from the captions highlighting the unique properties of the building.

Inside, the staff seemed to be preparing as well. A number of volunteers were sweeping and dusting; two others were setting out additional Tiffany lamps, and Jeremy a.s.sumed that once the official tour began, the overhead lights would be dimmed to give the library a more historic atmosphere.

Jeremy walked past the children's room, noting that it looked far less cluttered than it had the other day, and continued up the stairs. Lexie's office door was open, and he paused for a moment to collect himself before entering. Lexie was bending down near the desk, which had been nearly cleared. Like everyone else in the library, she was doing her best to get rid of clutter, stacking various piles under the desk.

"Hey," he said.

Lexie looked up. "Oh, hey," she said, standing. She smoothed her blouse. "I guess you caught me making the place look presentable."