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Authors: Wendy Sparrow
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Shane! but it wasn’t as funny—not really.
*****
It was as if Ana could feel him
nearby, but he couldn’t communicate. Clearly that whole sundown
thing was a hard and fast rule as it seemed. Still, it felt strange
to walk off after calling his name without letting him know that
she wasn’t brushing him off.
“I’m going to go find out more about
you,” Ana whispered.
The private collection was primarily
about the city’s history and books by notable authors who’d lived
there. There were older books that had come from her family’s
personal collection also, but the bulk of the books were about
Seaside’s population of eighty thousand that her great, great
grandfather had been a founding member of. History—it had a lot of
history in it. Some of the country. Some of the county. A lot of
the city of Seaside. As Shane had also been a part of the original
town’s ancestors—there should be something in one of these books
about him.
Since she didn’t want Carly back in
there following her, Analise was more careful about which books she
pulled out. There was no more of the quick flipping through she’d
been doing with the books on ghosts. The town’s history was
colorful and seemed thorough—with one exception. Besides the
painting, it was as if Shane had never existed. Even accounts of
her great, great grandfather’s business and its overnight success
didn’t include more than a mention of Shane. She was only able to
find where Charles Franklin had insisted he be declared legally
dead after a decade of being missing. So ended the sad short
history of the man haunting her. How had he disappeared for so long
without anyone searching for him? His family had died in a cholera
outbreak when he’d have been a teenager, but did he have no one
else?
It made her chest ache. Maybe that
was why he’d acted so arrogant. When you were on your own, you put
up a good front…or façade. Ana would use the word façade, but Jenny
would punch her for it. That word of the day calendar
was…insidious.
Insidious—sinister; devious;
stealthy.
Insidious was last Tuesday’s word.
Everything had smacked of insidiousness ever since then.
She shook her head to clear
it.
Right. Shane. Her ghost.
Someone must have cared that Shane
had disappeared. There was no way the man she’d met could have
little to no impact on those around him. Even his painting had a
following. If the women of Seaside hadn’t noticed he’d gone
missing, they all deserved to be dead because, really, he was a
guard-your-daughters type of sin on legs.
No. People must have noticed. In
fact, she was beginning to suspect his history had been
purposefully left out. It was the only explanation. When she found
a few books with missing pages, she was sure of it. Hmm. A missing
business partner. Missing history. Missing pages. There certainly
was no shortage of mystery revolving around Shane.
“We’ll be closing soon,” the older
librarian, Lara said, poking her head in. She was sweet and all
grandmotherly—much more so than any of the grandmothers in the
Franklin family.
“I’m still okay to stay after-hours,
right?” Hopefully. She swallowed past the lump in her throat. If
she couldn’t see him after a day that had seemed to stretch
endlessly with wanting to be with him, she might do something
desperate. Breaking in and entering.
Lara nodded, smiling.
The vise around Ana’s heart
loosened. She tried not to sigh in relief. She could stay. She
could see Shane. Tonight.
“You’ve been busy today,” Lara said.
“I hope you’re finding what you’re looking for.”
No. Not really. But if Lara didn’t
know about all the books missing pages, she wasn’t about to bring
it up and chance not being able to stay. Ana cleared her throat.
“Are there other books on my own family’s history outside of what
is in here?” Most of the missing pages had been in her own family’s
genealogical accounts. After she was done here in the library,
*****
It was as if Ana could feel him
nearby, but he couldn’t communicate. Clearly that whole sundown
thing was a hard and fast rule as it seemed. Still, it felt strange
to walk off after calling his name without letting him know that
she wasn’t brushing him off.
“I’m going to go find out more about
you,” Ana whispered.
The private collection was primarily
about the city’s history and books by notable authors who’d lived
there. There were older books that had come from her family’s
personal collection also, but the bulk of the books were about
Seaside’s population of eighty thousand that her great, great
grandfather had been a founding member of. History—it had a lot of
history in it. Some of the country. Some of the county. A lot of
the city of Seaside. As Shane had also been a part of the original
town’s ancestors—there should be something in one of these books
about him.
Since she didn’t want Carly back in
there following her, Analise was more careful about which books she
pulled out. There was no more of the quick flipping through she’d
been doing with the books on ghosts. The town’s history was
colorful and seemed thorough—with one exception. Besides the
painting, it was as if Shane had never existed. Even accounts of
her great, great grandfather’s business and its overnight success
didn’t include more than a mention of Shane. She was only able to
find where Charles Franklin had insisted he be declared legally
dead after a decade of being missing. So ended the sad short
history of the man haunting her. How had he disappeared for so long
without anyone searching for him? His family had died in a cholera
outbreak when he’d have been a teenager, but did he have no one
else?
It made her chest ache. Maybe that
was why he’d acted so arrogant. When you were on your own, you put
up a good front…or façade. Ana would use the word façade, but Jenny
would punch her for it. That word of the day calendar
was…insidious.
Insidious—sinister; devious;
stealthy.
Insidious was last Tuesday’s word.
Everything had smacked of insidiousness ever since then.
She shook her head to clear
it.
Right. Shane. Her ghost.
Someone must have cared that Shane
had disappeared. There was no way the man she’d met could have
little to no impact on those around him. Even his painting had a
following. If the women of Seaside hadn’t noticed he’d gone
missing, they all deserved to be dead because, really, he was a
guard-your-daughters type of sin on legs.
No. People must have noticed. In
fact, she was beginning to suspect his history had been
purposefully left out. It was the only explanation. When she found
a few books with missing pages, she was sure of it. Hmm. A missing
business partner. Missing history. Missing pages. There certainly
was no shortage of mystery revolving around Shane.
“We’ll be closing soon,” the older
librarian, Lara said, poking her head in. She was sweet and all
grandmotherly—much more so than any of the grandmothers in the
Franklin family.
“I’m still okay to stay after-hours,
right?” Hopefully. She swallowed past the lump in her throat. If
she couldn’t see him after a day that had seemed to stretch
endlessly with wanting to be with him, she might do something
desperate. Breaking in and entering.
Lara nodded, smiling.
The vise around Ana’s heart
loosened. She tried not to sigh in relief. She could stay. She
could see Shane. Tonight.
“You’ve been busy today,” Lara said.
“I hope you’re finding what you’re looking for.”
No. Not really. But if Lara didn’t
know about all the books missing pages, she wasn’t about to bring
it up and chance not being able to stay. Ana cleared her throat.
“Are there other books on my own family’s history outside of what
is in here?” Most of the missing pages had been in her own family’s
genealogical accounts. After she was done here in the library,
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