The Gathering Place Page 6

  Sara thought of her part-time job at the library—but only briefly. Looked like she would have to wait to borrow those new arrivals, just like everyone else.

  “Sure, I’m available,” she replied quickly. “Absolutely.”

  “Great, you’re going to have to jump right in.”

  “I’ll be covering stories right away, you mean?”

  “That’s right.” He nodded, his expression questioning. “Any problem with that?”

  “No problem at all. I can do it,” she promised. She partly wanted to jump for joy—and partly wanted to run from the room in a panic attack.

  He stared at her for a minute, an unsmiling look that made her uncomfortable. He had very blue eyes, she noticed.

  “Okay, we’ll see how it goes.” Wyatt glanced at his watch and pushed back his hair with his hand. She never really thought of Dan as attractive, but somehow the same features on his son definitely were.

  “Let me introduce you around, then you can pick a desk and get to work.”

  Wyatt rose, acting as if he were unaware of her, and again Sara followed him, quickening her steps to keep up. Wyatt walked to the man with the crew cut, who continued to type away furiously until Wyatt knocked on his computer terminal.

  “Come up for air, Ed. I want you to meet somebody,” Wyatt told him. “This is Sara Franklin, a new reporter. Sara, Ed Kazinsky.”

  “Right, Kazinsky’s Korner. I like your column,” she added.

  Ed immediately smiled, revealing a row of tobacco-stained teeth and a gold crown. “I’m going to like this girl. She’s very sharp.” He turned and began typing again. “Now please go away so I can work. Nice to meet you, Sara. If you have any questions, ask one of the others,” he advised.

  “Thanks for your time, Ed. We know how important you are,” Wyatt said dryly. He glanced at Sara and raised his eyebrows, then led the way to the young woman at the front of the newsroom. She was also working at her computer, but she stopped and looked up right away as Wyatt and Sara came toward her.

  “This is the new reporter I told you about, Sara Franklin. Sara, this is Jane Harmon. She covers day-to-day stuff, town meetings, school board—”

  “Any meeting within a ten-mile radius that lasts longer than three hours and can bore even a politician to tears. That’s my specialty,” Jane joked, holding out her hand to greet Sara.

  “Hey, don’t scare her. I’m putting her on the same beat,” Wyatt warned.

  “It’s not so bad. The trick is not to doze off before the good stuff happens,” Jane said. She squinted at Sara. “You look familiar. Have we met before?”

  Sara smiled self-consciously. She heard that a lot around town. “I worked at the Clam Box during the summer.”

  “Oh . . . sure.” Jane’s eyes grew brighter. “Well, hope you like it here better. No tips, but it’s more fun. Frankly, I’m glad to see another body. Things have been a little frantic since Dan’s accident.”

  Sara noticed an irritated expression cross Wyatt’s face, then disappear so quickly, she thought she’d imagined it.

  He turned to Jane again. “Can you help Sara settle in? I have to cover a story at the courthouse in Southport. I have you down for the Water Authority meeting in Hamilton at one,” he added.

  “Should I take Sara with me?” Jane asked.

  “Uh . . . no. I have something else for her. That interview with McAllister.”

  “Luke McAllister?” Sara asked. “Why does the paper want to interview him?” Was there more controversy over the New Horizon’s Center? She hoped not.

  “Didn’t you know? He’s the one who found Digger Hegman,” Wyatt told her.

  “What happened to Digger?” Sara asked.

  They both stared at her in disbelief, before Wyatt said, “Oh, you haven’t heard, yet, I guess.” He was smiling, but she still felt embarrassed.

  “Digger was lost for about twelve hours on Thanksgiving Day,” Jane explained. “There was a real manhunt, practically everyone in town came out to look for him. They finally found him in the woods off Beach Road, not too far from the Cranberry Cottages. It sounds like if it weren’t for McAllister, the old guy would still be out there.”

  “Really?” Sara could hardly believe the story—or that she hadn’t heard about it. But she had only gotten back to town late last night and hadn’t spoken to anyone. “What did Luke do?”

  “He probably saved Hegman’s life. But everyone’s got a different version,” Wyatt said. “We wanted Luke’s story firsthand, but he said that you were the only one he’d talk to, and he’d wait until you came on the staff. Is he a friend of yours or something?”

  “Yes . . . a friend,” Sara replied, feeling warm color flush her cheeks. Or something was probably the more accurate description, though she couldn’t really say what. “I’ll call him right now. Maybe he’s free this morning,” she added, trying to sound professional.

  “Good, get right on it. It’s late, but we’ll make it a feature. Get a photo, something with the woods in the background,” Wyatt said. “There’s an old Nikon in the darkroom you can borrow. You know how to use a 35mm, right?”

  Sara nodded. If the camera didn’t have an automatic exposure—and it sounded like it did not—she couldn’t promise the pictures would come out. But Luke probably knew how to set it, she thought. She would ask him to help her.

  “The story doesn’t have to be long, about seven hundred fifty words. Copy deadline is three o’clock.”

  Sara swallowed hard. Read up on the background, do the interview, write a seven-hundred-fifty-word article, and turn in a great photo. All by three o’clock. Whatever made her think she could do this job?

  “Sure.” She nodded. “I’ve got it. Three o’clock.”

  “Okay, see you later.” Wyatt grabbed his coat off a rack near the door and left.

  Jane’s voice broke into her wandering thoughts. “Don’t worry, he’s always like that. Sort of rushing around like the March Hare, shouting orders. You’ll get used to it.”

  “It’s a lot like the diner so far,” Sara joked, making Jane laugh.

  “Come on and pick out a desk. We have some good vacancies this week.”

  Sara smiled back at her. “Lead the way.”

  Sara was soon settled at a desk just behind Jane with a view of the street. She found recent editions of the paper and read the article on Digger’s disappearance as well as the official police report.

  Finally, she knew it was time to call Luke. She felt a pang of conscience as she punched in his number. She hadn’t called him all week from Maryland. Maybe she should have called when she got into town last night, but it had been very late; she hadn’t even called Emily.

  Suddenly, she hung up the phone. I ought to just go out and see him. He’s probably working outside, and I’ll just get the machine. If things are awkward between us, it will be easier to deal with face to face.

  Sara picked up her jacket and stuck a new reporter-style notepad in her knapsack, along with the camera. Passing Jane’s desk, she said, “I’m going out to see Luke McAllister. I’ll be back in a little while.”

  Jane nodded, her eyes glued to her computer terminal. “If you’re back by twelve, you can come with me to the Water Authority meeting. They’re going to discuss the new water-treatment proposal,” she added in a tempting tone.

  “That sounds . . . exciting,” Sara said politely.

  Jane laughed, and Sara swung through the door, feeling suddenly lighthearted, like the real thing already.

  She drove up Main Street and then turned off at Beach Road. It was a short distance to the turnoff for Luke’s property, which was still marked by an old sign that said Cranberry Cottages that Luke had never bothered to take down. Sara steered her hatchback down the gravel road to the cottages, carefully avoiding familiar dips and ruts.

  Pulling into the lot, Sara spotted Luke’s 4Runner parked alongside Sam Morgan’s pickup truck. She parked and got out, walking toward the sound of hammers, which echoed thro
ugh the winter woods. She followed the path to the cottages and looked around the property to see where they were working today. Things looked different to her, though it was only a couple of weeks since she last visited.

  Luke had made great progress since the summer. Most of the cottages were now renovated into housing for the kids and counselors who would be coming in the spring when New Horizons opened. Toward the back of the property a foundation had been dug and the framing started on a new building that would house classrooms and a large common room.

  Sara spotted Luke on a rooftop, his strong silhouette outlined against the blue sky. He was working on the cottage she had lived in last summer. She had spent time with Luke almost every day when she lived here. They had both been going through so much.

  She walked up to the cottage, almost afraid to call out, worrying that she might make Luke lose his balance. Sam saw her first, shouted a hello, and kept working.

  “Sara!” Luke called. He waved, then hopped across the roof and climbed down the ladder.

  “I wasn’t sure if you were back yet.” He smiled and stepped toward her, and she automatically returned his quick, tight hug. He wore a thick blue sweater and a tan thermal vest. When he held her close she smelled soap and wood smoke. She had missed him, she realized. More than she had thought she would.

  “I got in late last night,” she said, as she pulled back. “I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to call you.”

  “That’s okay. What are you doing out here? I thought you started at the paper today.”

  “I did. You’re my first assignment. Wyatt Forbes said you wouldn’t give the paper a story about finding Digger unless I wrote it. Is that true?”

  Luke looked as if he were trying hard not to smile. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Well . . . yeah. Does that bother you?”

  “Surprised me, I guess. So, what’s the story? Did you really save Digger?”

  “Not wasting any time, are you?” he kidded her. “You were born for this job, Ace.”

  “Thanks. I hope so.”

  “Come on, let’s go inside. I’ll make coffee,” he offered.

  “Sure.” Sara fell into step beside him. “But I can’t stay long.”

  “I know. It is good to see you, though.” Luke turned and glanced down at her. “Did you have a good visit with your folks?”

  “It was great. We had a lot of time to talk. I think they finally understand why I decided to stay here longer.”

  “That’s good. I’m glad you worked it out with them,” Luke said sincerely, and she wondered if he had worried that she wouldn’t come back after all.

  “They want to come up here for a visit, maybe over Christmas week. They want to meet Emily.”

  Luke glanced at her. “That should be interesting.”

  “Yeah, it will be,” Sara agreed. She had mixed feelings about the idea but knew it had to happen sooner or later.

  They arrived at his cottage, and she waited while he reached around her to open the door. “It seems like you were away a long time,” he said.

  “Only a week.”

  “I guess it was. It just felt longer.”

  Then she heard the door close and felt him right behind her as they walked into the silent house. She thought if she turned around, he would put his arms around her. She stood perfectly still for a moment, then stepped forward, entering the small living room.

  She dropped her knapsack on a chair, and a pile of books caught her eye. Thick books with long complicated titles, she noticed. Luke had never been much of a reader. She picked one up. It weighed a ton. “The Adolescent at Risk in Contemporary Society,” she read out loud.

  “I stocked up on some light reading. I hear the winters are bad up here.”

  “No, really. Are you going back to school or something?”

  He shrugged. “Dr. Santori gave me a reading list last time we met. I want to be able to help out with the kids in the spring. I might take some psychology courses or social work. I’m not sure yet.”

  “That’s a good idea.” Sara was impressed; Luke didn’t do things halfway. She pulled out her pad and pencil and opened to a list of questions she had jotted down in the office. “Okay, let’s get started here.”

  “Sure.” He stepped into the small kitchen and pulled open a cabinet. “What do you need to know?”

  “I read the newspaper articles and the police report about the search. What I’m looking for is more of a personal angle.”

  Luke glanced up at her as he measured coffee into the pot. “Not much to tell. I was with Emily, at her mother’s house on Thanksgiving night when she got the call—”

  “You were at Lillian’s? For Thanksgiving?” Sara couldn’t hide her surprise.

  Luke laughed. “Ezra dragged me over when he found out I was alone. Your grandmother didn’t exactly appreciate a crasher. But Ezra and Emily shamed her into it.”

  Sara laughed, imagining the scene. “I’ve got the picture. So, you survived dinner with Lillian. Then what?”

  “Chief Sanborn called Emily. He told her Digger was lost and the police had started a manhunt. We went out to Durham Point Beach, where the search was going on.”

  “Some of the people we’ve interviewed who were there say you took over at that point and told Chief Sanborn what to do.”

  “Where did you hear that?” She saw Luke’s expression darken, and she could tell she had struck a nerve. “That’s not true at all.”

  “All right,” she said evenly. But too many people had given the paper this version for her to be put off so easily. “So, you just followed the chief’s orders, like everyone else?”

  “Well, I guess I said a few things, about how to look in the marsh, how to line up the volunteers, that sort of thing. But it was Sanborn’s call all the way. I was only trying to help find Digger, just like everybody else.”

  Sara checked her notes again. “So, it would be accurate to say that you gave the chief some suggestions—procedures you knew from having worked in law enforcement?”

  Luke looked uneasy with her statement, so he concentrated on pouring coffee. “All right, you could say it that way, I guess.”

  Her gaze moved down to the next question on her list. “Someone we interviewed said that after about an hour, Chief Sanborn told everyone to turn around. But you argued with him about staying and said you were going to continue on your own.”

  Again, Luke looked uncomfortable. He ran his hand through his short thick hair and shook his head. “I guess I did say that. I just had a feeling that Digger was still in there, and I didn’t want to quit.”

  Sara quickly scribbled down his statement. “Yes, go on. . . .”

  “You’re not going to write that, are you?”

  “Well, yeah. I think that’s a great quote.”

  “Sara, please . . .” Luke shook his head. “Please don’t make a big deal out of this. I really don’t want all this attention. I don’t want to be the big hero, okay?”

  Sara pushed her hair behind her ear. “Sounds to me like you took a stand and saved Digger. Everybody says so—”

  “I’m sure Sanborn didn’t,” Luke cut in. His dark brows drew together in a frown. “Look, I have enough trouble getting along around here. You know that. I don’t need to embarrass the chief of police. He was doing his job the best he knows how, and I have to respect that. I’ve been there. You know what I mean?”

  Sara bit the edge of her pencil and nodded at him. She was in a tricky spot. She wanted the story to be accurate, and yet, she understood what Luke was saying. It wouldn’t help anyone to embarrass Chief Sanborn.

  “Don’t worry. I just need to know what happened, how you were involved. Just tell me what you know and let me write it,” she pressed him.

  Luke gave her a long look, as if trying to decide whether he should go through with this after all. Then he let out a breath and began to tell her his version of the rescue.

  “But it was only about two seconds later that Daisy started barking.
I just happened to be in the right place at the right time. The dog probably would have led someone to Digger, no matter what.”

  “Do you want me to say that?”

  “Absolutely. I want you to say that Luke McAllister gives full credit to Grace Hegman’s dog, Daisy.”

  “All right.” Sara smiled, as she noted his words. “But you know that only makes you look more noble and modest.”

  Luke shook his head in frustration. “Reporters. They have an answer for everything.”

  “I’m new at this, but I’m trying.” Sara sipped her coffee, and their eyes met. The look of longing in his eyes was unmistakable. Sara felt her heart jump, as she pulled her gaze away.

  Resolved not to let herself get distracted, she continued with her questions, trying to get more detail about Luke’s feelings as he had pushed through the reeds alone.

  Luke shifted restlessly in his chair. “Is this going to take much longer? I really have to get back to work now.”

  “You said you wanted me to do the story. Well, I’m doing it.” She caught his eye and held him in place with a look. His usually serious expression broke out in a smile.

  “Be careful what you ask for,” he said in a wry tone. “I never realized you’d be grilling me like this. What else?”

  Sara asked a few more questions about Digger, then decided she had enough for her story. She sat back and flipped her notebook closed. “All I need now is a picture.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Sorry, Wyatt said I had to get one. A good one. He wants the woods in the background.” She pulled the camera out of her pack. “Do you know how to set the lens on this? It’s really old.”

  “Let me have a look.” Luke took the camera in hand and rolled his eyes. “Okay, let’s get this over with.”

  Sara grabbed her pack and followed him out. They walked to the wooded edge of the property, and Luke showed her how to read the light meter and set the lens opening and shutter speed. Sara stepped back and started snapping.