had found it was important not to give people time to say “Wait, is this really a good idea?”
It occurred to Kami an instant later that she was not guarding her thoughts, and with the new blurring of the boundaries between them Jared could see every fear anddoubt she pretended not to have. She sent a glance that flashed resentment at Jared, standing on the gnarled roots of an oak tree.
He met her eyes, face calm. The oak leaves above him were already gilded, autumn coming to the woods like a king in a legend, touching all the trees with brightness. The rays coming through those leaves were gold on gold, firing the cold lights in his gray eyes. “I’m not going to ask if this is a good idea. I said I could keep up with you,” Jared said. “I won’t do that by slowing you down.”
Kami’s smile spread, thoughts curling around his. He didn’t feel uncertain. Actually, he felt happy, the restlessness that had been thrumming through him at school stilled.
“So hurry up, city boy.”
They went over fallen leaves and undergrowth that tried to tug Kami’s shoes off, past a hollow tree stump covered with dead vines that looked like an elephant made of twigs, and reached the hut. It looked ordinary by the light of day, the rough brown walls leaning at an angle, the door slightly ajar.
Kami had envisioned crime scene tape garlanding the trees, but of course the police weren’t going to do that for a murdered fox. They had not even taken the tablecloth off the table. It fluttered in the breeze as Kami cautiously pushed the door open. She stared for a moment at the rusty brown stains on it. She felt Jared’s shoulder behind her own, warm and solid, having her back, and for the first time since the well, his physical presence was a comfort. She leaned against him and he stepped away, maybe an instant before he realized she was leaning, maybe an instant afterward.
Kami stepped forward on her own and walked around the perimeter of the hut. It was tiny, and she had studied the pictures from her camera phone obsessively. There didn’t seem to be anything new here. So whoever it was had not come back, she thought. That was good to know.
She went and stood at the door with Jared, trying to find some pattern of broken twigs or crushed undergrowth to indicate which way whoever had killed that fox had fled. But the police had been here, and she and Jared hadn’t been careful on their way in. There were signs of people everywhere. When Kami saw a gleam, she stooped down to the glint of white plastic automatically and without much interest. It was plastic: she assumed it was rubbish. Then she looked at what was lying in the palm of her hand.
“It’s a room key,” Jared said slowly. “For somewhere called the Surer Guest.”
“That’s a fancy guesthouse a few miles out of town,” Kami said, just as slowly. Relief seeped through the shock. It could be a visitor who was responsible, then. Not anyone she knew: not someone from her town.
“Our first clue,” Jared remarked. “High five.”
They both hesitated, checking themselves at the last moment, and deliberately missed touching hands. The gesture was a bit like waving at each other over a distance that was only in their minds.
Kami bit her lip, then tucked the card into her pocket and headed for home, with Jared walking a careful distance away from her.
Chapter Twelve
The Crying Pools
“S omething I don’t understand about this place,” Jared said, after a long awkward pause, “is why the stone around here, including the stone in the big stupid mausoleum I have to live in, is the color of pee.”
“It’s Cotswold stone!” Kami exclaimed. “And it is the color of
honey
. It’s very famous. Most of the houses in Cotswolds towns are built from it. It’s why they are such beauteous tourist attractions.”
“Cotswolds?” Jared asked. “I thought this place was in Oxfordshire. Or Gloucestershire. Someplace ending in ‘shire.’ ”
“The Cotswolds
It occurred to Kami an instant later that she was not guarding her thoughts, and with the new blurring of the boundaries between them Jared could see every fear anddoubt she pretended not to have. She sent a glance that flashed resentment at Jared, standing on the gnarled roots of an oak tree.
He met her eyes, face calm. The oak leaves above him were already gilded, autumn coming to the woods like a king in a legend, touching all the trees with brightness. The rays coming through those leaves were gold on gold, firing the cold lights in his gray eyes. “I’m not going to ask if this is a good idea. I said I could keep up with you,” Jared said. “I won’t do that by slowing you down.”
Kami’s smile spread, thoughts curling around his. He didn’t feel uncertain. Actually, he felt happy, the restlessness that had been thrumming through him at school stilled.
“So hurry up, city boy.”
They went over fallen leaves and undergrowth that tried to tug Kami’s shoes off, past a hollow tree stump covered with dead vines that looked like an elephant made of twigs, and reached the hut. It looked ordinary by the light of day, the rough brown walls leaning at an angle, the door slightly ajar.
Kami had envisioned crime scene tape garlanding the trees, but of course the police weren’t going to do that for a murdered fox. They had not even taken the tablecloth off the table. It fluttered in the breeze as Kami cautiously pushed the door open. She stared for a moment at the rusty brown stains on it. She felt Jared’s shoulder behind her own, warm and solid, having her back, and for the first time since the well, his physical presence was a comfort. She leaned against him and he stepped away, maybe an instant before he realized she was leaning, maybe an instant afterward.
Kami stepped forward on her own and walked around the perimeter of the hut. It was tiny, and she had studied the pictures from her camera phone obsessively. There didn’t seem to be anything new here. So whoever it was had not come back, she thought. That was good to know.
She went and stood at the door with Jared, trying to find some pattern of broken twigs or crushed undergrowth to indicate which way whoever had killed that fox had fled. But the police had been here, and she and Jared hadn’t been careful on their way in. There were signs of people everywhere. When Kami saw a gleam, she stooped down to the glint of white plastic automatically and without much interest. It was plastic: she assumed it was rubbish. Then she looked at what was lying in the palm of her hand.
“It’s a room key,” Jared said slowly. “For somewhere called the Surer Guest.”
“That’s a fancy guesthouse a few miles out of town,” Kami said, just as slowly. Relief seeped through the shock. It could be a visitor who was responsible, then. Not anyone she knew: not someone from her town.
“Our first clue,” Jared remarked. “High five.”
They both hesitated, checking themselves at the last moment, and deliberately missed touching hands. The gesture was a bit like waving at each other over a distance that was only in their minds.
Kami bit her lip, then tucked the card into her pocket and headed for home, with Jared walking a careful distance away from her.
Chapter Twelve
The Crying Pools
“S omething I don’t understand about this place,” Jared said, after a long awkward pause, “is why the stone around here, including the stone in the big stupid mausoleum I have to live in, is the color of pee.”
“It’s Cotswold stone!” Kami exclaimed. “And it is the color of
honey
. It’s very famous. Most of the houses in Cotswolds towns are built from it. It’s why they are such beauteous tourist attractions.”
“Cotswolds?” Jared asked. “I thought this place was in Oxfordshire. Or Gloucestershire. Someplace ending in ‘shire.’ ”
“The Cotswolds
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