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It’s a rental unit that Angel’s Rest recently purchased and remodeled. The owner just made it available for rental yesterday, which is why we could get you into it.”
    Lawson opened a wooden box and removed a set of keys. Checking the round tag on the end, he nodded, then handed them to Cam. “Here you go. The address is 354 Seventh Street, and you can reach it by—”
    “What?” Startled, Cam dropped the keys. They hit the wooden floor with a clunk. “Where? What’s the address again?”
    “It’s 354 Seventh Street.”
    “You are kidding me.”
    Lawson blinked. “Is there a problem?”
    Yeah, there was a problem. Cam’s lips flattened into a grim line as he bent to retrieve the keys. He’d grown up in the house at 354 Seventh. Remodel or not, it would be full of ghosts. “Is anything else available?”
    The innkeeper shook his head. “No, sir. Eternity Springs is hosting a quilt festival this week, and we’re busting at the seams. I don’t believe there’s a room to be had within a hundred miles. These ladies are serious about their craft.”
    “A quilt festival?” Devin repeated. “That’s the reason for the tents lining part of that one street?”
    “The tents are mostly from vendors who have followed the crowd. The quilts on display are in the school, including a special traveling exhibit from the Alzheimer’s Art Quilt Initiative. That’s a great cause. Proceeds from that go toward Alzheimer’s research. Hope you’ll consider buying tickets.”
    When Cam still hesitated, Lawson added, “You know, I recall taking your reservation—just about three weeks ago, right? The call right before yours was a cancellation, which is why we had a spot for you at all. Honestly, man. You’re lucky to have a place to stay.”
    Cam shook off his hesitation and stuck the key ring into his pocket. He’d come to Eternity Springs to face old ghosts, had he not? Might as well get started. “The house will be fine.”
    “Good. Now, if you’ll just sign here.” The innkeeper handed over a registration slip, then took a tourist map from the top of a stack. He marked an X at the spot of the Elkhorn Lodge and said, “You’re here now, and the rental is—”
    “The old Murphy place,” Cam said, then deliberately added, “I know it.”
    Taking unusual care to make his handwriting legible, Cam signed the slip, then passed it to Brad Lawson. “Thanks, Brad.”
    “I’m sorry. Have we met?” Lawson’s gaze dropped to the registration slip, and he audibly gasped. His head jerked up, and he stared at Cam with eyes rounded in shock. “Murphy? Cam Murphy?”
    The reaction was expected, but it still annoyed, so Cam showed him what Devin called his great-white-shark smile. “You can be the first to welcome me home, Brad.”
    The innkeeper’s mouth opened and his jaw worked, but he didn’t make a sound. With an amused chuckle, Cam turned away and looked at his son. “You ready?”
    “Sure. Except …” Devin glanced at Brad Lawson. “Mister, I’ve had a sudden craving for popcorn. Know where I can get some? I always like to munch on a tub of popcorn when I’m watching a show.”
    “Smart aleck.” Cam smirked as he turned and left the office without bothering to listen for a reply.
    He expected Devin to pepper him with questions as they made the short drive to the house on Seventh, and the teenager did not disappoint. “So which team did ol’ Brad belong to? Friends or enemies?”
    “Neither. Acquaintance is a better word for it. In a town this small, everyone knows everyone.”
    “And this place we’re staying? You called it the Murphy place. So it’s your house?”
    “It’s where I grew up, but it’s not my house. After my old man died, I couldn’t pay the taxes on it. Didn’t want to, to be honest. The place doesn’t hold many happy memories for me.”
    “That sucks. Sure you want to stay there? I have Jack’s number in my phone. We could call.”
    Devin’s “Jack” was Jack