Whispering Springs

Dylan took a moment before he responded, surprised at how hard he had to work to remain dispassionate. He didn’t think he would be so affected by Ava’s presence, but his chest tightened uncomfortably as he followed her into the room. She stood with her back to the balcony doors, arms at her sides, head slightly lifted. Dressed all in black, she looked ethereal and mysterious, a dangerous temptress with lamplight shimmering in her hair and something indefinable gleaming in her green eyes. The bombardment of memories was almost a physical pain as Dylan leaned a hip against the dresser and folded his arms.

“You have a different opinion, I take it.”

Despite his measured tone, she gave him a withering assessment. “The shattered limbs? The twisted neck? And here we are together again at Whispering Springs after ten years of estrangement. You can’t tell me this is all one big coincidence. Someone is messing with us.”

“You weren’t even supposed to be here,” he reminded her.

“That’s beside the point.”

“You also conveniently disregard the other incidents. The break-in and phone calls happened weeks before the reunion. If you look at it as all of a piece, the doll fits a pattern.”

Doubt flickered across her face. “But why a doll? More specifically, why a smashed doll?”

“This place isn’t just known for its springs. Don’t you remember why we started coming out here in the first place? Tony and Blair wanted to climb Bishop’s Rock.”

“So did you. Even Jane was gung ho at first, but then she stayed behind to keep me company because she knew how terrified I was of heights.”

“Do you really think that’s why she stayed behind?”

“Don’t you?”

Dylan shrugged. “Jane has always been a hard one to figure out.”

“Yes, she always did march to her own drum,” Ava agreed as she turned to the window. She grew reflective. “Do you remember the last time we all came out here? We didn’t know it then, but that trip was the beginning of the end for us.”

Not true, Dylan thought. His breakup with Lily had been the first fracture in the once tight group.

Lily Callen had been a part of Dylan’s life since childhood. They’d remained devoted all through high school and most of college until he’d finally admitted to his growing feelings for someone else. Their split had seemed amicable at first. Lily had even seemed relieved. It was time they both spread their wings, she’d said. But in the ensuing weeks, she’d grown increasingly moody and withdrawn. Then had come a series of disjointed, bordering on paranoid phone calls, followed by a final text message that had driven a stake through the heart of his fledgling relationship with Ava.

I told you I was in trouble. Why didn’t you help me?

Ava watched him carefully as if trying to intercept his innermost thoughts. “You had a bad fall that weekend. The image of you tumbling down the side of Bishop’s Rock still gives me nightmares.”

Dylan smiled. “I managed to walk away in one piece.”

“Thankfully.”

They were still ignoring the ghost in the room. Neither seemed willing to speak Lily’s name aloud, as if the mere mention could somehow breathe life into their old guilt.

Dylan said into the strained pause, “My point is, Blair and Tony are still avid climbers. It’s common knowledge in their circle.”

“You think someone is threatening Blair with a fall? I don’t know, Dylan. Even if we accept that premise, there’s no way you can deny that doll’s resemblance to Lily.”

So there it was. The name hovered in the room like an old dream, and the knot in Dylan’s chest turned into a different kind of pain. “The doll looks just as much like Blair.”

“Maybe. But I still have a hard time believing this is about a business deal. It feels too personal.” Her gaze turned cool and assessing. Whatever feelings Lily’s name had evoked now lay hidden beneath Ava’s lawyerly facade. “I can’t help wondering if there’s something you’re still not telling me.”

“Even if that were true, I’m not at liberty to discuss my client or her situation. You know that better than anyone.”

“Yes, but as Blair pointed out, how am I to help you keep an eye on things if you leave me in the dark?”

Dylan straightened from the dresser, anxious to bring the conversation to an end. He remembered only too well Ava’s persistence. No good could come from a prolonged confrontation. “You don’t need to keep an eye out. That’s my job.”

“And now it’s also mine. I can’t unsee that doll, and I can’t go blithely about my business knowing what I know.”

“You could try.”

She gave him another look. “I have a question for you. You don’t have to answer if you feel it violates your ethics.”

“Go on.”

“Are you sure you know the whole story?”

She’d surprised him. “Meaning?”

“You don’t find it even a little strange that Tony Redding refuses to call the cops when his house is broken into?”

“Blair explained his reasoning.”

“Yes, she did. But she couldn’t explain the message that was left on the bathroom mirror, could she? ‘Tell the truth.’ What truth?”

Dylan said nothing.

She scowled at his silence. “Was a photograph taken of the mirror? What was used to write the message?”

“Ava.”

His admonition merely emboldened her. “I can always go ask Blair.”

He sighed. “The message was scribbled in lipstick.”

“Blair’s?”

“Apparently.”

“The tube was left behind?”

“Yes.”

“Cursive or printed?”

He paused. “Printed.”

“Was a photograph taken?”

“Yes, but I would need Blair’s permission to show it to you.”

Ava nodded absently. “How did the perpetrator enter the residence?”