Rock Harbor Search and Rescue (7 page)

Rock Harbor’s three-block downtown area could have come straight from one of Emily’s little brother’s picture books. The town’s major businesses lined Houghton Street, which was intersected by Jack Pine Lane and Pepin Street. The storefronts were painted in cheerful pastel colors.

Rock Harbor may have been smaller than some towns in the Upper Peninsula, but it more than made up for it with its quirky personality. There were forests on three sides, and Lake Superior stretched out along the other. The Ojibwa called it
Kitchigami
, which meant “giver of life.” Emily loved the sound of the surf, but always from a distance. The water scared her silly, and no amount of her friends’ teasing could make her get into the water. Ever since she’d nearly drowned, she’d refused to put so much as a toe in. She hated even remembering that day.

“Good, looks like they’re still open.” Olivia grabbed Emily’s hand, and they crossed the street to the newspaper office.

Emily sniffed to see if she could smell the newsprint. “The first newspaper was printed in Boston by Richard Pierce in 1690. And then it was shut down by the administration. Isn’t that interesting?”

Olivia gave a little snort. “Not really.”

A bell rang as they pushed the door open. Dust floated in the sunlight sneaking in behind them. Emily wrinkled her nose as she let her eyes adjust to the much dimmer light of the newspaper office.

“Hello, young ladies. How may I help you?” Ms. Harris asked, walking in from the back room.

Ms. Harris was tall, with long auburn hair, probably in her forties or so, and wore a business suit. Everyone in town knew she was the newspaper’s only reporter.

Emily swallowed. “Um, we need to talk to someone about getting a copy of the paper from about three weeks ago. Please.”

“Well, I’m the person who can help you at the moment.” The reporter moved toward them, hand extended. “Inetta Harris.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ve seen you in town, and you were my substitute teacher once when I was in the fifth grade. I’m Emily O’Reilly, and this is my best friend, Olivia Webster.”

“Ah, yes. Donovan’s little girl. You look like your mother, though.”

Emily gave a weak smile. “Naomi’s my stepmom.”

“I know that. I meant you look like your mother. Your real mother.”

“You know my mother?” Emily’s voice wavered. It’d been so long since she met someone who actually knew her mother personally.

Ms. Harris chuckled. “Marika and I were friends, right up until she married your dad.”

Emily couldn’t think straight. It’d been six years since her mother’s trial and sentencing. She’d been accused of attempted murder, but had testified against her partner and had gotten a lighter sentence. It’d been years and years since Emily had met someone who knew her mother before all of that.

“You, honey, look exactly like she did as a young woman.” Ms. Harris smiled as she patted Emily’s hand. “Those beautiful dark curls. Your hair is absolutely gorgeous. And, oh my, you’ve already got a figure just like Marika’s. I was always jealous of her curves.”

Heat filled Emily’s face. She hated that the top half of her body had grown so much larger than the other girls in her class. She’d begun wearing bigger clothes to keep anyone from noticing.

“Sorry. I know you must miss your mother, and here I am, talking about her when I know she won’t even be up for parole for months. Do forgive me.” Ms. Harris straightened. “So, what edition of the paper were you interested in, girls?”

Months?
But Mom had been sentenced to twelve years. It’d only been a little over six.
Breathe
. This couldn’t be true, could it? She eyed Ms. Harris’s face but decided not to ask.

Olivia took a step forward. “The one that featured the festival with the picture of Mrs. Dancer’s jewelry. We’d like a copy of that one, please.”

“Ah. Yes.” She smiled at Emily again. “I imagine you must be upset. Mary was really not happy with you. I tried to keep the article as neutral as I could.” She moved behind the counter. “Let me get your order in.” Her fingers flew over a keyboard.

Emily stepped up to the other side of the counter. “What did Mrs. Dancer say about me?”

“It’s not what she said, exactly. More like the innuendos.”

What did that mean?

Olivia moved beside Emily. “I’m not sure I understand, Ms. Harris.”

The lady smiled at Olivia. “By the way Mary kept bringing up Emily’s name, even though the sheriff told me there was no physical evidence she’d done anything wrong, I could tell she thought Emily had something to do with the missing necklace.”

“But I didn’t.” Yet everybody in town seemed to think she did. Especially Mrs. Dancer.

“You know, if you could get your dad’s permission, I could interview you and run a story of your side of things.”

“She can ask them,” Olivia butted in. “But for now, we need to hurry and get home. May we please get a copy of that paper?”

Ms. Harris nodded and headed to the back room. “Certainly. Let me grab it for you.” She returned in a moment, paper in hand. “That’ll be a dollar fifty.”

Emily dug in her pocket. She had some change from her lunch money. She pulled out the exact change and handed it to Ms. Harris.

“Thank you, girls.”

“Thank you.” Emily tucked the paper under her arm and turned behind Olivia. They opened the door, and the bell jingled.

“Don’t forget to ask your father about that interview,” Ms. Harris called out.

“I will. Thank you.” Emily let the door shut behind them before racing with Olivia down the street.

“You aren’t really going to ask your father about that interview, are you?” Olivia shifted her backpack on her shoulder.

“Of course not.” Emily flattened the newspaper open and
stared at the picture of Mrs. Dancer’s Sapphire Beauty. “Wow, it’s so beautiful. Even in black and white.”

Emily read the article under the picture. She scanned the information about the dates of the upcoming festival, costs, and other exhibitors. She paused when she reached the description of the Sapphire Beauty.

“Listen to this,” she told Olivia, then read aloud. “’Legend has it that deep in the forests, there are things that make the bravest of brave shiver. Inhuman things, supernatural things,
savage
things.’” Emily lowered her voice, mimicking the tone her old babysitter had used when she told the tale. “’Strange creatures dwell in the deepest, darkest forests in the world, especially around the Upper Peninsula, but even stranger are the creatures that live
inside
of man, inner beasts more fearsome than anything else.’”

“That’s a freaky voice, Em,” Olivia said.

“Here’s the rest of it.” Emily took a breath before finishing. “’During the autumn and winter, it’s said the Windigo goes mad with hunger and hunts people. He looks for people lost or alone in the woods. He’s hard to kill. Some say he’s like a werewolf and must be killed with a silver bullet. Others say you have to burn the body and bury the ashes. One Ojibwa story says a medicine man named Big Goose fought and killed the Windigo with his bare hands.’” Even as she read, Emily’s heartbeat kicked up a notch.

Olivia let out a nervous laugh. “No matter how many times you hear the story, it’s still creepy.”

“The article goes on . . . ‘Mrs. Dancer, being a descendant of the Ojibwa tribe, crafted the beautiful Sapphire Beauty, photographed above, to ward off the Windigo. This one-of-a-kind necklace will be for sale at the festival, but it won’t come cheap.
This enchanted necklace carries a price tag of over a thousand dollars, a bargain when you see it in person.’”

“Enchanted? That’s crazy.” Olivia switched her backpack from one shoulder to the other.

“But that’s what Mrs. Dancer meant when she said the Windigo would strike while the protection was gone.” Emily folded the paper and shoved it into her backpack. “Besides, it got a lot of attention in the paper, which probably made it worth even more to people, I guess.”

“And the article told everyone how much it was worth, and when and where they could get their hands on it.”

Emily and Olivia started toward Cottage Avenue. Two high school kids stood outside the community center. One of the girls nodded toward Emily, then whispered to her friend. They both snickered, then crossed the street, away from Emily and Olivia.

Emily pressed her lips together. She needed to figure out what really happened to the necklace. Soon. Before her reputation was trashed.

The house was quiet when Emily got home. “Timmy? Naomi?” When no one answered, she went to the kitchen and grabbed apples for herself and Olivia. The phone jingled from the living room. “Olivia, could you grab that?” She held the apples under the faucet, then dried them with a paper towel.

Olivia appeared in the doorway with the portable phone in her hand. She was white, and her eyes were big. She held out the phone. “Em . . .”

Emily frowned and put down the apples before she took the phone. “Hello?”

“Emily. It’s so good to hear your voice.”

Emily had only heard the woman’s voice in her nightmares. Her throat tightened, and she couldn’t speak. She shot a panicked glance at Olivia, who mouthed,
I’m sorry
. Swallowing, Emily finally found her voice. “Mom?”

“It’s me.” Her mother’s giggle sounded nervous. “I wanted to hear your voice.”

Her heart galloped in her chest. “Does Dad know you are calling?”

“Your father has refused all my calls. I haven’t forgotten about you and Timmy, Emily. You kids belong to me and no one else.”

“Listen, Mom, I have to go.” Emily slammed her finger onto the phone’s power button and threw it on the table. All the strength left her legs, and she sank onto a chair. Burying her face in her hands, she let out the sob that had been building.

Olivia knelt beside her. “I’m sorry, Em. The man said he had a collect call from her, and I didn’t know what to do. I said yes to accepting the charges just as a reflex. I bet I could have said no.”

Emily swallowed hard and tried to get herself under control. “I can’t believe she called here. Dad said I didn’t have to talk to her ever again and neither did Timmy. She scares me so much.” She hugged herself. “She said me and Timmy
belong
to her. What if she gets out and tries to take us?” Her voice rose, and she bit her trembling lip.

“You’ve got to call your dad.”

Emily nodded. Her heartbeat began to slow. “He’ll be really mad. She could have killed Timmy! She deliberately tried to make him sick to make it look like Naomi was a bad stepmother. What kind of person would do that to their own kid?”

“I don’t know, Em. A sick person, maybe.”

Emily rubbed her eyes. “Oh sure, try to make me feel sorry for her. She’s just evil, Liv. Some people are.”

Olivia nodded. “Your dad will protect you.”

“He couldn’t protect Timmy. He wanted to, but she was so sneaky.”

“He knows how bad she is now. It will be okay. Call your dad.” Olivia handed her the phone.

FIVE

“Come on.” Timmy was worse than Charley, racing ahead to the field, then bounding back to hurry Emily and Olivia along. “Dave’s waiting for us. He said he found out something important.”

“We’re coming. We’re coming.” Emily shook her head and grinned at Olivia, but inside, hope burned. Maybe Dave had uncovered something important.