down the steps. That conference call with her bosses was in a few hours, and she

had a ton of work left to do if she was going to convince them she was not only

on the job, but killing it.

She couldn't help glancing at the house next door where the town's most eligible bachelor lived. The treehouse still stood, for now, quietly being swallowed by the tree. And the boy who had built it? He seemed stuck here, too,

slowly being engulfed by Golden Grove.

Chapter Twelve

The Screamin' Bean was Golden Grove's main coffee shop, next to Ray's Diner,

of course. It was usually empty late on Saturday afternoon, save for a scattering

of college students hunkered down with earphones on, studying. And Sam Price

in a corner booth, hunched over a manuscript. Sam was one of Golden Grove's

authors, currently the ghost writer behind the “Lottie Long” cozy mystery series,

although he didn't publicize the fact.

“Hey, Sam,” Peter called over. “Who you killing off today?”

Sam looked up. “Hey, Peter. Not sure yet. Either the one-eyed priest or the

librarian with the limp. Have any suggestions?”

“How about a school district budget committee member with an evil laugh

and red pen that never runs out of ink?”

“I'll see what I can do,” Sam said, eyes twinkling as he went back to work.

Lucius and Peter chose a table with two chairs by one of the two plate-glass

windows that overlooked the town square.

A light rain rolled down the wide diner windows, clouding the view outside.

It was getting cooler almost daily. There'd be the first frost soon, then the long slow descent into winter would start.

Peter nursed his coffee. He and Lucius had been talking the usual. School business, how the cross-country team was doing, the art teacher who was pregnant and quitting after this year. But he was more interested in talking about another topic. The one that hadn't left his mind the last few weeks. The one with

the red-gold hair and the perfect dash of freckles around her nose.

“Heard you dropped a beaker on Friday in lab,” Lucius was saying.

Peter shrugged. “It was slippery. Nothing was in it.”

“Always gives the kids a laugh, I bet.”

“Hey, if it gets their attention I'll drop a brick on my head.”

“Wouldn't be because you were distracted by anything, would it?”

He said nothing.

“Heard our visitor is back in town. You should invite her over to help with

the treehouse again.”

Peter heaved a sigh. “I see Carol has you on speed dial.”

Lucius smiled. “Just looking out for our friends.”

Friends. He wasn't sure what that word meant anymore. Were you friends

with someone if you daydreamed about how the sunset made her hair flame gold when you were trying to grade lab quizzes? He must have been lonelier than he'd

thought.

“Anyway, it's raining,” Peter pointed out.

“So ask her inside. Kind of nice seeing her all grown up,” Lucius said.

No, they were not talking about this.

Lucius continued. “It's interesting. I've been teaching so long I see a lot of students come back. I recognize their faces or their walk or voice. Some change

a lot, and I can't recognize them. Some look pretty much the same.”

“I can't tell with Kate. It's like she's in there somewhere,” Peter said. “The real Kate. The 'Katie.' Behind the designer watches and alkaline bottled water, underneath the gray business skirts.”

Lucius cocked his eyebrows. “Underneath the skirts?”

“You know what I mean.”

Lucius nodded, seeming to consider something. “I do know what you mean.

You want her to be who you think she really is.”

Peter shrugged. “She can be who she wants.”

“I just wondered if maybe you want her to be someone you once knew.”

“And who is that?”