Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103027 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103027 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
“Happy to,” I agreed.
We walked up the front steps. Sylvie pushed open the door, her eyes scanning the room and locking on the corkboard off to the left of the front counter.
“Be there in a minute,” a rough female voice called from the back.
“Take your time,” Sylvie called back. “Just looking at the board here, we don’t really need anything.”
We stood in front of the corkboard covered in flyers, business cards, and a few sticky notes. Guitar lessons, a pet sitter, a local accountant drumming up business. And a few rentals: single-family home, two-bedroom apartment in town. As expected, nothing about the house we just left.
“Can I help y’all?”
Sylvie turned to face the woman at the counter—good thing she was doing the talking, because memory struck me dumb. Miss Carmody. There were extra layers of wrinkles on the wizened face. The hair that I remembered as steel gray was salted liberally with pure white, twisted up in the same frizzy knot at the top of her head, the same half-moon gold-rimmed glasses perched on the edge of her nose so far to the end they looked like they might fall off if she moved too fast. She wore a brightly colored, oversized chunky knit sweater I knew she’d made herself. I didn’t remember how I knew that—probably knowledge I picked up as a kid in the hours I’d spent listening to my mother chit-chat across the counter.
Her eyes scanned me, stopping for half a second before she looked back to Sylvie. “Y’all need stamps?” she asked after seeing our hands were empty of mail.
“No, we stopped in town to look at a house we thought was for rent—the Greens’ place. A neighbor told us we were mistaken, sent us over here, said there’d been a couple people asking about it.”
Miss Carmody huffed. “The Greens haven’t been in town for a decade. Don’t know why they don’t sell that place, but Bess was right. Not for rent—never has been. And you’re the second person to ask about it.”
“Their daughter is a friend of a friend. She knew we were thinking about making a move, told us it’d be available.” Sylvie shrugged, flashing a bright smile. “Oh well. You said somebody else was here asking about it? Seems weird Emily would have told another person the house was for rent.” She looked back up at me, her eyes confused but her smile still bright. She was a hell of an actress—a little scary, actually. But in that moment, I appreciated how well she sold our story.
“It’s all right, honey, we’ll find something,” I said, giving her hand a squeeze.
“I know. Such a pretty town.” She turned back to Miss Carmody. “Have you lived here all your life?” she asked.
Miss Carmody started to answer and stopped, her eyes fixed on Sylvie. “I know you,” she said.
I braced, ready to jump in if necessary. We didn’t know who we could trust, and while Miss Carmody seemed an unlikely threat, I couldn’t forget that Sylvie was in active danger.
Sylvie shook her head slowly. “I don’t think so. I’ve never been here.”
“No, I know you… Oh my God—Sylvie Calloway! You’re Sylvie Calloway with Evidence & Echoes—oh my God, you are! You never show your face, but I know your voice!”
Sylvie’s cheeks flushed pink, and she slapped her free hand over her mouth. “You recognize my voice?” she said, sounding both amazed and enormously pleased.
“Of course! I’ve listened to you talk in my ear for hours and hours. What are you doing in my post office? Because I know it’s not looking for a rental. Why would Sylvie Calloway move to Hollow Creek, South Carolina?”
Sylvie pulled her arm from mine and set her hands on the counter, leaning forward slightly, studying the small woman on the other side before she said, “I can’t tell you—”
“Because you’re working on the new season,” Miss Carmody finished for her. She was practically breathless with excitement. I wondered how often Sylvie encountered fans like this.
“Kind of. My new case has been a little more than I expected,” she said, surprising me with her honesty. “And some of it is extremely confidential.”
“But it has something to do with the Greens’ house? And the man who came in?” Miss Carmody asked, her bright eyes alive with curiosity and excitement.
“Maybe. Normally, I wouldn’t say, but since you’re a fan…” Sylvie leaned farther across the counter, bracing her elbows. “Most of our leads have dried up. This was a long shot. I have no idea if the Greens or their house or that man have anything to do with the new case.”
“But you won’t tell me who it is,” Miss Carmody said, crossing her arms over her chest.
“I can’t,” Sylvie said. “Normally I would, but this one…” Sylvie shook her head, her teeth sunk into that rosebud of a lower lip. “It’s complicated. Not like the other cases I’ve covered. It’s possible I’m going to have to bail and start over. It might delay the new season.”