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“Tell me again why I’m here instead of treating Mrs. Adams’ guinea pig?” Nick wondered aloud as he and Alex followed Kevin through the town hall to Howie’s office.

Kevin looked over his shoulder. “Because I asked you to, and, besides, you said yourself that the guinea pig is perfectly fine, and Mrs. Adams is just freaking out over nothing.”

“Well, that’s true, but still.”

Kevin pushed open the door to the office. “Nick, we have to go through the giant files in the vault because there is something in them about the legend and how to solve it.” At least, he hoped there was for what else could Mia have meant by looking into the past? As far as he knew, the town’s very detailed past was in print in the town vault.

Howie’s secretary looked up. “Kevin Richardson! I haven’t seen you out of your home in months! How’ve you been?”

He grinned. “Not so bad. Can you tell Howie we’re here? He’s expecting us.”

“Of course.”

“Kev, don’t you think if there was something in the history, it would’ve been found by now? How can you be so sure that there’s something in there?” Alex asked him.

Kevin shrugged. “I don’t know for sure, but I have a hunch. I’m following it, and I thought I’d use your reporter’s instincts to find it.”

“Okay, well, that explains why McLean’s here. Why isn’t Brian here? He’s a reporter, too. And what the hell am I doing here?” Nick asked again. “How am I supposed to help out?”

“Brian’s got an important job to do at the moment,” Alex told him, remembering where Brian had told him he’d be.

“Besides, you’ve got sharp eyes, Nicky,” Howie said, stepping out of his office. “You play at being dumb, but we know better. That’s why Kevin and I want you helping out.”

Nick rolled his eyes. “Fine. What are we waiting for?”

“Nothing. Shall we?” Howie held up a set of keys and gestured towards the door, before turning to his secretary. “If I get any calls, tell them I’ll call them back first chance I get.”

“Sure.” She smiled. “You men have fun now.”

Alex smiled at her, ever the flirt. “We sure will. You’re always welcome to come along.”

Howie shoved him out the door. “Jenny, ignore the ass. He’s supposed to be married.”

“Poor Christine,” Jenny murmured as she watched them go. Shaking her head and laughing a little, she turned back to her paperwork.

They followed Howie down a long, twisting corridor lined with pictures of former mayors of Seven Falls to a large door set with double bolts and three keyholes.

“Jeez. Do you think it’s secure enough?” Nick muttered, watching Howie unlock the door. “I mean, really. What kind of secrets does a small town really have that need to be locked up so tight?”

Alex, too, was a little surprised at the security. “Is there an alarm system inside, too?”

“Yup.” Howie and Kevin pushed open the bolts, and, stepping inside, Howie punched in the security code on the number pad. “We might be a small town, but we still have valuables we want to protect.”

Nick shrugged and followed them in. “Whatever.” He looked around the room full of antique sofas, large paintings, and the expensive-looking mahogany and gilt-edged décor. “Wow. This is supposed to be a vault?”

“Were you expecting something more like a safe?” Kevin wondered as he watched Howie unlock a drawer in the large desk set in the middle of the room.

“Wait. You’ve been in here before?” Alex asked, noting Kevin wasn’t that surprised at the appearance of the vault.

Kevin pointed to a large, framed portrait. “Of course, I’ve been here. How else would my painting have been put in the proper place in this room?”

Alex studied the painting of Seven Falls. It looked like it had been done from a bird’s eye view, and each detail of the town was finely brushed onto the canvas.

“Where did you paint this? From an airplane?”

“No, from my dreams,” Kevin answered, helping Howie untie the bindings on a large, weathered box.

Nick wandered over to help them. “How old is this thing?”

“As old as the town,” Howie replied.

Nick let out a low whistle. “You’re kidding, right? Come on, Mr. Mayor. There’s no way that this box is three hundred years old.”

Howie pulled out a box of latex gloves from another drawer and passed it around the group. “You have to wear these, or you can’t touch the parchment. There’s oil on your hands that’s dangerous to these pages. They could crumble if you touch them with bare hands.”

When all of them wore the gloves, Howie lifted out the first packet of yellowed parchment that was tied with leather string.

“I think our best bet is to start at the beginning of the legend. The legend and other historical accounts agree that Laurent and Liliane lived at the turn of the eighteenth century. This packet is the town’s history, written by the mayor’s appointed scribe, from January 1700 to December 1704.” Howie held up the papers with gentle hands. “I think our best bet is to go through each entry and write down any mention of the Dormets and the Montfoliers.”

“But isn’t 1704 too early for the legend?” Nick asked.

Alex shook his head. “If the key to the spell is the lovers themselves, then our best bet is to learn their personal histories. So, anything pertaining to them is important to note—no matter how small.”

“Gotcha. Hey, D, I can take the first set if you want,” Nick volunteered.

“I’ll help you with that,” Kevin offered, and the two went and hunched over the sheaf of parchment on another table.

Alex and Howie teamed up over the next batch of papers, and all four waited for the first clue to emerge from the annals of history.

***

The bells over the door jingled, and Reena looked up from the frame job she was working on to see Brian step into the door and proceed to poke around the shop. As he moved from the print section to the frames, she couldn’t help but watch him.

The night before, after seeing the sheer misery in Juliet’s eyes when she’d watched Brian, Reena had known that the noble and right thing to do was to step back. She didn’t have any history with Brian, nothing to tie them together other than a few kisses. She certainly didn’t have the six-year bond with Brian that Juliet had, and it was certainly wrong of her to want another woman’s man.

Oh, but he made her mouth water. He moved gracefully as though he was a dancer rather than an athlete. When he’d held her, she’d felt all those lovely muscles he hid beneath the blue shirt he wore now, and she couldn’t control the punch of lust she felt when he ran a hand through his deep blond curls. She’d always been a sucker for a man with good hair and good eyes, and Brian hit the spot on both. She absolutely loved the way his hair fell over his deep blue eyes and hoped he wouldn’t cut it.

Unfortunately, she’d made a pact with herself, and Brian was off-limits. No way was she going to lust after him, even if she felt all these crazy things for him, too.

She stepped out from the back and smiled when he spotted her. “Did you get lost on your lunch hour or are you here for something?”

“I meant to come here.” His voice was serious. “Can we talk?”

Reena sighed. “Brian, I said all I needed to say last night. Let’s just put everything behind us and try to be friends, okay?”

“Why didn’t you tell me about your fiancé?”

Okay, so she hadn’t expected that to be the first thing he said. “Um, because there’s nothing to tell?”

“Oh, please. Reena, you honestly expect me to believe that you loved someone enough to marry him, but, once he cheated on you and you left, he means nothing to you? That whole part of your life doesn’t matter anymore?” His hands held her arms now.

Reena swallowed. “Brian, I don’t know what you want me to tell you, but I’m telling you the truth when I say it truly is behind me. I’ve had time to recover, and I’m over it.”

“Do you have ice water for blood?” he wondered, shaking her a little.

It hit her like a quick sting in the heart, but she managed to meet his gaze. “It’s my life, Brian, and my heart. I’ve known you for three and a half days, so what the hell gives you the right to pry into my life, to demand answers from me that I don’t want to give you?”

She spoke quietly, and he could see the hurt in her eyes—hurt that he had caused. He let go of her and stepped back. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right. I don’t have any right to ask you about your past. I’ve told you about me, my life, but I don’t think it’s really necessary for you to return the favor. I’ll get out of your way now as I’m sure you have work to do.” Brian stopped at the door and turned to look back at her one more time. “I’m sorry I hurt you, and I’d like it if you gave it a few days before you offer friendship again.”

“Brian, wait!” Reena rushed to the door, but he’d already climbed into his car and pulled onto the road. “I’m sorry,” she whispered miserably. “I didn’t mean to hurt you either.”

***

“Well, troops. Anything?” Kevin asked the other three as they began to wrap the parchment up again.

Alex shook his head. “Nada. Not a single thing that we didn’t already know.”

“There were the same old reports of the tragic deaths of the lovers, but not really much else. Liliane’s cousins were run out of town, Laurent was buried on Montfolier property, which, ha-ha, happens to be owned by my wife, of course, and Liliane was laid to rest in the town cemetery,” Howie informed them. “But we already know all of that.”

“Even in death, they wouldn’t let them be together,” Nick pointed out. “That’s terrible.”

“It’s why their spirits need peace.” Kevin paced the room. “Maybe we’re supposed to put their bodies together?” But he shook his head. “That wouldn’t explain why Liliane and Callie think that I’m supposed to do something. What are we missing?”

Nick shrugged. “Knowing our luck, it’s probably right in front of our eyes, and we can’t see it.”

Howie sighed. “Listen, I’d really love to discuss this, but I do have a town to run. We’ve spent two hours on this already, why don’t we call it a day?”

Alex and Nick agreed, while Kevin gave in reluctantly. There was something here, and he was sure of it. He just needed time to weed it out of the lines of script.

“Can I come back tomorrow?” he asked Howie as they locked up the vault again.

Howie glanced at his watch and calculated how much time he had to prepare for the town meeting. “Sure, yeah. Just drop by tomorrow and get the keys. Do you have the model you were supposed to paint?”

“It’s in the car.”

“Great. Are you coming to the meeting tonight?” Howie asked as he followed Kevin outside.

Kevin shrugged. “I was thinking I’d be there to give Gwen support, you know?”

“You’re starting to get hooked and reeled into her, aren’t you?” Howie grinned when Kevin shot him a look. “Come on, Kev. I think it’s great that you’re showing interest in another woman again. It’s been seven years since Mia died, and I think you’ve punished yourself long enough.”

Kevin stopped next to his car. “Do you really think I’ve been punishing myself for her death?”

“Well, honestly? I think you have, even though everyone knows it wasn’t your fault.” Howie patted his shoulder. “Kevin, she slipped on the wet rock, and you know it because you saw it.”

“But don’t you think people blamed me for her death?”

Howie shrugged. “Our in-laws didn’t.” He remembered that Callie and Mia’s parents had been devastated by the loss of their daughter, but they’d never blamed her husband. “And if anyone else murmured about it, they didn’t have enough fuel for their fire. We all know you loved Mia, Kevin. You’d never have wanted to cause her any harm, and what happened that day was an accident. Stop being so hard on yourself.”

Kevin shrugged and turned to open the trunk. “I’ve spent seven years wondering if it was my fault or if there was something I could’ve done to prevent that fall.”

“And did you figure anything out?”

He handed Howie the wrapped painting and shook his head. “No, and, when I’m around Gwen, I forget about it completely.”

“Maybe you’re supposed to forget. Maybe that’s part of moving on.” Howie paused. “Or maybe not forget, exactly, but accept. I think you should accept that what happened happened, and you can’t go back and change it. You just move forward with your life and live it to its fullest. Do you think Mia would have wanted you to be a monk for the rest of your life?”

Kevin remembered the dream he’d had. “No, she wouldn’t.”

“Then there’s your solution.” Howie shifted the painting to hold it beneath his arm. “Stop worrying so much, Kevin, and live your life. I’ll see you at the meeting tonight.”

“Yeah.” He watched Howie head back to the building and sighed. “I hope you’re right.”