Page 88 of The Vanished

“I have, as it happens. Lynn had the well drained, and the workers found several items at the bottom. They were buried in the silt.”

“What sort of items?” Quinn asked, sitting up in her excitement.

“The second earring, a gold bangle, and a pair of white gloves.”

“White gloves? Ladies’ or men’s?”

“Men’s. The sort a footman might wear. Did you see a footman in your visions?” Rhys asked.

“The staff was greatly diminished since the war, but footmen might have been hired from the village to serve at the New Year’s Eve party. And then there was the butler and Lord Bellamy’s valet. He might have owned white gloves.”

“Might the butler have done it?” Rhys joked.

“I doubt it, but the valet confronted Geneva and was distressed about the possibility of losing his position. He’d had a hard time in the war and suffered from PTSD.”

“It could also be that one of the footmen who’d been hired for the party tried to force himself on Geneva and accidently murdered her when she tried to fight him off. Perhaps he was drunk and followed Geneva when she left the house to meet Rory Sullivan at the well.”

“They had met at the well before,” Quinn agreed, but she had not yet come to the story’s climax and preferred not to speculate. “I wonder what became of Honor after Geneva died.”

“Would you like me to do a search?” Rhys offered.

“No, not yet. But I would like to speak to Dinah Wilson. She must know something.”

“Do you think you could go see her before you leave?”

“I don’t think so,” Quinn replied wearily. “The visit to Dinah will have to wait.”

“Any word on Logan?”

“No. I was told that the police will not be actively investigating the case.”

“I’m sorry. That must have been difficult to hear. And Jude?”

“Nothing from him either. It suddenly feels as if people are just disappearing.”

Rhys chuckled. “We’ve become so accustomed to being able to reach people via phone or online anytime that it’s alarming when someone doesn’t respond immediately.”

“That’s because there’s usually a good reason they can’t,” Quinn said morosely.

“Quinn, if there’s anything you need, I’m here, you know that. And if you want to set this case aside for the time being, I completely understand.”

“I know, but I find it helpful to focus on someone else’s trials at the moment, tragic though they may be.”

“Few people are lucky enough to escape tragedy,” Rhys said. “What was it Henry Wadsworth Longfellow said, ‘Into each life some rain must fall’?”

“But most people are not faced with the murder of a close family member.”

“We don’t know that they were. The body was never found or even properly buried, so maybe no one ever knew that Geneva had died.”

“You think they assumed she ran off?” Quinn asked.

“Possibly. Honor might have thought her sister was happily living in Pittsburgh. It’s not unheard of that people become estranged and don’t correspond.”

Quinn sighed. “I almost hope that’s the case. I would certainly prefer to believe that the person I love is somewhere out there, alive and well, rather than floating in a slimy well just a few feet away.”

“There is something to be said for closure,” Rhys remarked.

“Closure is overrated. I’ll take hope any day.”