Eden looked upward, considering my words. "You might be on to something there. So, from what we know from the police and when the land was purchased, Acadia was formed a year before you were born, whether you were born there or not." She glanced at me and then away again. "So, maybe we should look back at articles from the few months prior to that?" Her eyes were shining. I couldn't help but to feel like it was a bit of an adventure, too, despite the topic.
"Let's do it."
Eden looked forward at the computer again, concentrating, and I sat back in my chair while she scrolled.
As she focused on what she was doing, I glanced around the library, people watching for a few minutes. There was a young couple at one of the computers arguing in whispered voices. There was a mom picking out bright-colored cardboard books with her toddler. My eyes lingered on the child who was excitedly reaching for the books his mom handed him, hardly being able to believe we'd have one of those little people soon. I wondered if we'd have a boy or a girl . . . who he or she would look like. When I glanced back at Eden, she was leaned into the computer, focusing intently on something. When she looked over at me, her face was drained of color.
"Hector's real name was Thomas Greer."
My whole body froze. I immediately looked around and then stood and moved my body to protect Eden as if Hector would somehow materialize because of what she had just said. "How do you know?" I whispered harshly, leaning my head in toward hers.
"This," she squeaked out, pointing at the news article on the screen.
I leaned in and looked over her shoulder. My eyes scrolled quickly through the article and then I went back and read it more slowly, something icy filling my veins.
There was a picture of what was very clearly a younger Hector at the top of the page, with short-cropped hair and wearing a dress shirt and tie. The title of the article said, "History Professor's Family Murdered in Robbery."
"Oh, God," Eden croaked out, her eyes not leaving the screen. She brought her fingers up to her lips as we both read on.
The family of Indiana University Southeast Greek History professor, Thomas Greer, was found murdered early Sunday morning. Professor Greer returned home from a conference to discover his wife, Alice, and five-year-old daughter, Danae, stabbed to death in their home. Police don't have any suspects at this time, but are speculating it was a home invasion robbery. Our source at the police department is telling us the Greer home could have been targeted because Thomas's wife, previously Alice Lockwood, was the heiress to an Australian mining fortune and the thieves most likely anticipated the presence of money and jewelry. The family had planned to accompany Thomas Greer on his trip, but his daughter became sick at the last minute and they stayed behind.
We scrolled forward, our eyes glued to the screen. We came upon a few, short articles, but no more information was offered. After a couple months, the case had grown stagnant. The police didn't have any suspects and Thomas had a foolproof alibi. He'd been at the conference the entire weekend and presented several times.
My mind raced. An Australian mining fortune. Well, that answered the question of where Hector's money came from.
I watched as Eden did a search for Greer's name, but no more articles came up.
"Look at this," Eden said quietly, pointing her finger to the bottom of a short article on the screen. I looked closer and read aloud. "Alice Greer (née Lockwood), and Danae Greer will be laid to rest this Saturday at Our Lady of Mercy cemetery."
"No, this part," Eden said, moving her finger down.
I read quickly through "survived by" names, most with Alice's maiden name and then stopped when I got to her mother-in-law's name. Willa Greer.
"Willa . . . she was his mother," I said softly, picturing crystal blue, ageless eyes.
Go to the far, left corner. It's the only place where you'll live! And somewhere in my barely lucid mind, those words had come back to me. And because of it, I had survived.
"Yes," she said, a disbelieving note in her voice, "and look at this."
I squinted at the screen again, to another article where they had taken a statement from Willa Greer. She was standing in front of her business, a Fortune-telling shop in downtown French Lick right next to another small tourist store. "Madam Willa, Past, Present, Future Told. Come Inside." I swallowed hard, not completely understanding what it meant. Another sign on her shop window declared, "Holistic medicine sold here - treat ailments of all varieties."
There is room for me here. Here I'm useful.
I snapped back to the present as Eden pressed print with shaking hands, stood up quietly, and grabbed the article copies as they came out of the printer. She folded them and shoved them in her purse and then shut everything down and grabbed my hand. She pulled me out of the library.