Ryan stroked his chin, which was sporting a thick brown beard. “Or there’s that canoe livery on the Mitchell River. They don’t open until May.”

“Not just a horror movie,” Rafe said, “but a bad horror movie.”

This time he was ignored by two people.

“I know.” Ryan snapped his fingers. “How about that county park, the one on . . . What’s the name of that little lake? Moss. It’s not far from the highway, so whoever meets the sellers will assume we’ve just driven up from downstate. And there are three parking lots. We can leave your car in the lowest one and put a note on the blog to meet in the upper one.”

Now Rafe was the one stroking his chin. “Well . . .”

“Excellent idea.” I smiled with satisfaction. “This will work out great.”

I really should have known better.

Chapter 20

The next day started out rainy and windy. I tried to see out the kitchen window but couldn’t see anything except rivulets of rain running down the glass.

“What happened to that perfect mushrooming weather?” I asked.

Rafe laughed. “This is perfect weather for mushrooms. I thought you knew.”

Maybe it was good for mushrooms, but not for the hunters. Or for anyone at a track meet. “You’re taking your rain gear, right?”

He kissed me and hefted his backpack. “Already packed. Text me, okay? Before, during, and after.”

His voice held a tone that was extremely unusual for him: that of worry. And so, instead of making a joke, I nodded. “Promise,” I said, kissed him again, and waved as he drove off.

It was now decision time. The bookmobile was headed out for an all-day run, and, once again, Hunter and I were doing the morning route and Hunter and Julia were taking the afternoon shift. “To Eddie or not to Eddie,” I murmured.

Last night, Rafe and I had posted a time of eight o’clock to meet anyone who was interested in our Conti-like sculpture. There’d been no response, but we hadn’t expected one, either. And there should be plenty of time to get Eddie back home and me out to the park well before eight. Before seven, even. Still, I hesitated.

I was standing there, dithering, when I felt a furry thump on my leg. “Mrr?” the thump asked.

It sure sounded like he’d said please, but with Eddie it was hard to be sure. “Did you really say please?”

“Mrr!”

Which was the same thing he said to Hunter when we got on the bookmobile and the same thing he said to Julia when she climbed aboard in the afternoon. I assumed he’d say it again at six o’clock when they came rolling back, but when I went out to the parking lot at the end of the day, there wasn’t a sign or sound of any of them.