Page 7 of Salvation
When the phone rang one night, she all but jumped to answer it, but it was Cynthia, not Sarah.
“Hi, Anna. How are you?”
Going crazy, I think.
“Fine. How are you?”
“Doing fine, sweetie. Listen, some folks have been asking about the land. Will you consider selling it?”
Anna sucked in a deep breath. It would kill her to sell that property, just as it would kill her to go back.
“No. Not selling. Not now.”
Cynthia sighed. “Yeah, I can understand. Too much a part of your family.”
Anna nodded into the phone. “I still can’t believe they’re gone.”
Cynthia sighed deeply. “I know, honey. I feel the same way sometimes. Just last week, Sally James got back from Arizona. They’re looking to retire down there. Can you believe that?”
“Well, I guess the winters aren’t quite as harsh down there.”
“Anyway,” Cynthia went on, “Sally said she stopped in this cute little café where she swore she saw Jessica Macks. Craziest thing.”
“Who’s Jessica?” The name rang a bell, but that was it.
“Jessica Macks from the place south of town. The place that was burned down.”
Anna froze. “She saw Jessica alive?”
Cynthia sighed. “You know how it is. You think you see somebody, but then you’re not sure.”
Her heart pounded in her chest. “Did Jessica know Sarah?”
“Around here, everyone knows everyone. But yes, I guess they did know each other. Sarah was always hanging around that Voss boy. What was his name?”
“Soren,” Anna said immediately. The love of Sarah’s life. Or so she’d thought before he left her.
“Right, Soren. His brother Simon and Jessica were a thing for a while, too.”
“Where did Sally see her? When?”
“Honey, don’t get your hopes up. Sally’s eyes aren’t that good. I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”
But her hopes were already up. Soaring, in fact. If Jessica was alive, maybe—
“Where? When?” she demanded.
“Last week, some place in central Arizona.”
Within ten minutes, Anna had called Sally James, downloaded driving directions, and hit the road for her second cross-country trip of the past few months. She spread the map across her lap and glanced at it as she drove. All she had to do was follow I-40 west, right?
Two thousand miles west, but she didn’t blink an eye. She had to be sure. If Jessica was alive, Sarah might be, too.
* * *
“The Quarter Moon Café? Right down the street.” The man in the hardware store pointed. “They’ve got the best muffins in town.”
“Best wraps, too,” the man ringing up his purchase added.
