Page 109 of Stay Buried

“You’re kidding,” Ashley said, stepping closer to study the sign. “A Lorelei Prentice original as an out-of-office sign.”

Malcolm laughed. “Looks more like a baby dragon than a trout.”

“I’ll meet you in your room in five minutes or so,” Ashley said. “I just want to change.”

“Deal,” he said.

She unlocked her door, stepped into the room, dropped her purse on the bed. She brushed her hair, looking in the mirror, which captured the image of a Lorelei painting behind her: a doe and fawn. But the fawn was misshapen, deformed. And the doe was looking at her with what seemed like pity in her big brown eyes.

Ash set down her brush, went to her suitcase, drew out a short-sleeved shirt. She was just pulling it on when there was a rapid, hard knock at the door.

“Ashley?” Mal called.

She jogged over, opened the door. “What’s up?”

“It’s all gone,” he said. He looked pale. Shaken. “The trunk, the papers, the letters, everything in it. All of it.”

“What?” It wasn’t possible. “How could it be gone? Are you sure?”

He chuffed out a frustrated breath, ran a hand through his unruly dark curls. “Of course I’m sure, Ash.”

“Was the door open? The window broken?”

“No. And I made damn sure I locked the door before we left this morning.”

Ashley thought of theGONE FISHINsign. Then she thought of Jack sitting at the bar, spinning the gold watch.

You’re running out of time.

“We should call the police,” Ashley said.

Mal bit his lip. “Yeah, I think you’re right. First the mark on the door, now the break-in. I can’t believe someone took the trunk!” He pulled out his phone, looked at it as if hoping that it might suddenly have service. “But how are we gonna call? Our cell phones don’t work, there are no phones in the rooms, and the office is locked up tight—I just checked.”

“Okay,” Ash said, taking in a deep breath, trying to quell the rising panic. “We go into town and find a phone. We can ask at the general store or the pub. If they won’t let us use their phone, we head back to Josephine’s and use hers.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Malcolm said, pulling the truck keys out of his pocket. “Let’s go.”

Ashley grabbed her purse and followed him out the door, her eye catching the painting; the doe’s gaze seemed to follow her:Poor thing, her too-big, cartoonish brown eyes said.

FORTY-FIVEMINI

October 18, 2016

Mr. Willy, sir?”

Mini yanked off the mask and shrugged out of the heavy leather coat. She’d thrown them on when she heard the footsteps, the only way she could think to hide herself. The coat smelled awful, rancid. The mask didn’t smell, but it was still worse, scarier. All her regular Mini thoughts had fluttered away like frightened birds as soon as she’d pulled it on.

“Mini?” he said from the top of the steps.

“I’m sorry if I scared you,” she told Willy.

“My God, did you ever, Mini. But I scared you too, I reckon. You’re about the last person I’d expect to see here.” He sat, thumping down on the stone steps that led into the root cellar. She could smell the liquor on him, on his breath, seeping from his pores.

“I was looking for clues,” she told him, a little embarrassed.

“Clues?” He looked at her, his face serious, not teasing at all. “Mini, how did your family get the mark?”

“It was my fault,” she confessed. “Isawhim. I was hiding in the bushes.”