“So you’re saying we should forget it, then. Forget everything.”
He rested his cheek against her tousled hair. “Not everything.”
And what was that supposed to mean?
Rachel shook her head, drawing slightly away from him. “I’m not sure I can dismiss what I’ve found so easily. You’ve had fifteen years to think about what Roger said and to decide it meant nothing. This is all new to me. I need to look into it a bit more.”
“And just how do you expect to do that? Are you planning on trekking through the woods with a magnifying glass? Nearly everyone who was closely involved with Al and Nadine is dead now.”
“Everyone except my mother. And my uncle Sam.”
The mention of her uncle made Lucas frown. But he ignored the name and asked, instead, “You don’t think your mother knows something she hasn’t told you?”
Rachel couldn’t suppress a grimace at the thought of asking her mother anything about Al’s disappearance. No answer could possibly be worth the melodramatic hysteria that question would surely trigger.
“No. Mother doesn’t know anything more than we do—not as much, I’m sure. I’ll go through the remainder of Roger’s things. Maybe I’ll find something else. And I haven’t looked through my father’s stuff yet. Mother did the same thing with his stuff as she did with Roger’s—she crammed everything into boxes and demanded that they be taken out of her sight. Maybe my father had something that would give me a clue as to what he was planning.”
Lucas shook his head. “I think you’re wasting your time, Rachel. If there’d been anything more, Roger would have found it and produced it.”
She shrugged. “It’s my. time to waste, isn’t it?”
“Yes. I guess it is,” Lucas said in that cool, neutral voice she’d found so annoying before.
She pushed herself to her feet, pulling her jacket more snugly around her. “You should probably go back to your family. Emily will want you to be there.”
Lucas rose more slowly. “Rachel, what’s wrong?”
She tried to smile. “Nothing. I just hate to keep you from your family at Christmas.”
“Come with me to Emily’s. There’s plenty of food for one more.”
Her smile suddenly felt a bit more natural. “Wouldn’t that give the town something to talk about? A Jennings at a McBride family holiday table.”
Lucas muttered an inelegant suggestion of what the town could do with its gossip. “Will you come with me?”
“Thank you, but no. I think I’ll go look through Roger’s things while my grandmother is out of the house for a while.”
“You’re wasting your time.” he said again.
“Yes.”
In more ways than one, probably, she almost added.
She picked up the manila envelope and the book Lucas had given her. “Thank you for the book of poetry. I’ll treasure it always.”
“I’ll walk you to your car.”
“No.” She held up a hand to stop him. “This is a walk I’m getting used to making on my own.”
He scowled, obviously not understanding what she meant. She couldn’t fault him for that; she hardly understood her own behavior at the moment.
Rachel stepped in front of him and rose on tiptoes to press a kiss against his unsmiling mouth. “Do me one favor, will you, Lucas?”
“What?”
“Don’t leave this time without saying goodbye.”
He was frowning after her when she turned and walked away.