Silver River Secrets

Gram tilted her head. “Hmm, the white has a pretty lace collar, but pink is my favorite color.”

“Pink it is.” Lacey handed her the pink blouse and returned the white one to the closet. Her cell phone rang. “Who could be calling?” she wondered aloud. Maybe Kris wants to set up a lunch date.

Lacey pulled her phone from her pocket. The number was local but unfamiliar. Could it be Rory? Why would he call? Hadn’t they parted yesterday with a finality that discouraged further contact? Just in case it was him, though, she wandered into the living room, where she’d be out of Gram’s earshot. Strolling to the patio door, she idly gazed out. The lowering afternoon sun sent long shadows through the willow trees bordering the river.

The caller turned out to be Elton Watts, publisher of the Silver River Sentinel.

“Remy gave me your number,” Elton said. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, not at all. What can I do for you?” As a high school senior, Lacey had written a few articles for the paper to fulfill assignments in her journalism class. Since then, she’d had no contact with Elton, other than to exchange greetings during chance encounters around town.

So, why was he calling her now?

“I’d like to discuss something with you, but not over the phone. Can you drop by the Sentinel tomorrow morning? You’ll still be in town, won’t you?”

“Yes, I’m here for a few more days. But can’t you tell me what this is all about?”

“I’d rather talk to you in person.”

“Well...all right.”

They settled on nine thirty. Lacey ended the call and rejoined Gram. “That was Elton Watts. He wants me to come to his office tomorrow.”

Gram looked up from fastening the last button on the pink blouse. “I forgot to tell you he called this morning, and I gave him your cell number. Was that okay?”

“Of course. But did he tell you what he wants to talk to me about?”

“Not a word.” Gram shook her head. “Are you going to meet with him?”

“Yes, of course.” Elton was one of the few people who had not taken sides when Rick Morgan was accused of killing Al Jr. He might have had an opinion, but if he did, like a good journalist, he kept it to himself.

“Good.” Gram smiled. “Now, how do I look?” She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin.

Lacey smoothed the blouse’s collar. “You look gorgeous. Come on, let’s go wow ’em.”

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