Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 121735 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121735 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
“Not a bad idea. But let’s start with coffee, shall we?”
As Candy headed for the break room, Lydia called out, “Were you a pusher in an earlier life?”
“Are you turning down caffeine?” came the response.
“No,” Lydia muttered as she rubbed her eyes.
She’d been up all night, the sense that things were moving in the shadows around her bedroom or that people were peering in her windows and watching her making it impossible to sleep. And even though she’d been two years in that house, she’d never realized how loud it was until every single creak, groan and whistle of the wind had shot through her entire body. It was like she’d been a tuning fork for the soundtrack of a horror movie.
Speaking of which, where was that motorcycle? Even with a good muffler, she would have heard the Harley. Maybe Daniel Joseph had had second thoughts about the job.
Or maybe, as a drifter, he had just drifted away, “not here for long” being a mere forty-eight hours on the job as opposed to a season or two.
Reaching behind her, she cranked the window open, the chirping of the spring birds getting louder, the cool rush tickling her nose.
“Are we here in body, not soul today?” Candy demanded as she came back with two mugs. “All those invitations set you back? You look like crap.”
“Why thank you,” Lydia said as she took what was given to her.
“It wasn’t a compliment.”
“I was talking about the coffee.” Lydia drank in a gulp, and her eyes watered as her tongue and the roof of her mouth got burned. “You want to sit down for a sec?”
“If you fire me, you’re going to have to vacuum this place by yourself.”
“I’m not firing you.”
“Shoot, I could have taken an unemployment vacation.” Candy parked it and pulled her forest-themed sweater into place. “Maybe gotten that face-lift I’ve always wanted. So what’s up, fearless leader.”
As the joking title sunk in, Lydia thought about the way she’d rushed into the woods the morning before, determined to kick the shit out of someone who could very well have shot her in the head for all she knew.
Nothing had been inside the line of trees, though. And there had been no evidence of someone having stood there and taken her picture—no disturbance in the pine needles, no sound of anybody retreating on foot or in a car, bike, or ATV. Had they just disappeared?
When she’d walked back to her house, her whole body had been shaking. Fearless leader? Not even close.
“What made you ditch the pink hair?” she murmured. Because she really didn’t want to open any cans of worms. Not until she dead-bottomed the mug.
And all she had were worm cans.
Candy shrugged. “The pink was stupid. It’s just that simple. Now give me details on your Saturday and Sunday. I can tell you didn’t go to the hairdresser’s. You look like you’ve been pulled through a rose bush backwards.”
“You know, you do not have a way with words, Candy.”
“Really? You could have fooled me. So … ?”
“No.”
“No. What?”
“I did not see Daniel Joseph. He was out of town, and I told you on Friday, I’m not dating anyone from work. I’m not dating anybody.”
Ever, she added to herself.
“Well, that’s a damn shame.” Candy adjusted her hoop earring. “I’d give it a whirl if I weren’t a hundred and twenty-six years old. So what do you really want to talk to me about?”
Lydia sipped from her mug again, but was more careful with the hot stuff. “I, ah, I want to know if Peter’s received anything here that seemed … odd.”
“What, like, takeout all the way from Plattsburgh?” As Lydia shot a level stare across the desk, Candy rolled her eyes. “FYI, you have to actually be in a place to get any kind of delivery. Unless it’s me and UPS. I swear, if that driver ever shows his face here, I’m going to—”
“Anything, Candy. A package, an envelope. Something addressed to him that you opened and it turned out to be personal?”
“Not that I’m aware of.” Candy glanced over her shoulder like she was checking to make sure they were alone. Then she sat forward and did the unthinkable. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “What have you found out in here?”
“Not a damn thing.” Lydia shook her head. “He’s either up to no good, but a total mastermind … or he’s just lost interest in this job and doesn’t care what happens.”
“Somehow, I’m guessing it’s the latter. No offense, but I’ve never thought Petey-boy was the brightest brake light in the parking garage.” Candy got to her feet. “And speaking of jobs, C.P. Phalen’s assistant wants to know if you’re in the office today.”
Lydia sat up straight. “The new board chair?”
“That’s the one.”
“What does he want with me? Are you sure he’s not looking for Peter?”