Mrs. McGee's Arc

Chapter 2 of 2

Mrs. McGee stayed by the pond until the light turned gray. She held the sketch flat on her knee and studied it again. A glass pendant. A pressed lily. Someone had drawn it from memory, or from life. Either way, that person had stood where she was standing now, and not long ago. She needed to find them before the other searcher did. She walked back to the inn with Russell at her heel. The lilies in her mind were fresh. Fresh flowers meant a florist, a garden, or a picker. Stardust was small. Someone would know who cut white lilies this week. She started with the market square. Most stalls were closing. A woman folding aprons at the flower stand shook her head. No calla lilies this season. Nobody had asked for any either. Mrs. McGee showed her the sketch, folded to hide the pendant, and pointed only at the flower. The woman shrugged. Mrs. McGee tried the bakery, the post, and the shop that sold soap. Each time she got the same answer. No lilies. No strangers asking odd questions. Russell sat by every door and waited, patient as furniture. By dusk she stood in the square with nothing. The sketch felt heavier in her pocket than it had that morning. Somewhere in this town, a person who knew the pendant's face was moving faster than she was. She had no name. No direction. No thread to pull. Russell lifted his head. He was staring at a bench across the square. A small figure sat on it, feet swinging above the cobblestones. He wore a white suit with blue trim and a round glass helmet that fogged and cleared with each breath. His eyes were huge and dark inside the bubble. On his lap he held a stone jar. Three calla lilies leaned out of it. Russell walked to him without being called. The small figure reached out one gloved hand and let the poodle sniff it. "You're the lady with the letters," he said. His voice was thin through the glass. "The innkeeper told me." Mrs. McGee sat down slowly on the far end of the bench. "You left the flowers." "I leave them every week." He turned the jar in his hands. "My name is Eddie. I'm not from here. I came a long way too." He looked at her sideways. "You drew the pendant?" "You drew it," she said. Eddie nodded once. "I've seen it. I know where it was last. I don't know where it is now." He paused. "Someone moved it three days ago." Mrs. McGee's hands went cold. Three days. Her rival was already ahead. "Tell me where it was," she said. Eddie held out the jar of lilies. "I'll show you. But we go tonight. After tonight, the trail is gone."