Page 36

CHAPTER 36

O live dropped Nova off and then headed back to her old place. She wasn’t sure exactly what going there might prove.

But she needed to go. She wouldn’t rest until she could see it again.

Just as before, she pulled to a stop in front of her old house.

And just as before, there were no cars in the driveway or anything to indicate anyone lived here or had visited recently. It was dinnertime and still light enough outside to see everything clearly.

She climbed out of her Jeep and paused on the sidewalk, staring at the familiar house with a touch of dread.

The more she dug into her father’s background, the more chance she could discover something she might not want to know. Was she really prepared for that?

She thought she was.

“You back again?” someone nearby called.

Olive craned her neck and saw the neighbor she’d talked to yesterday. Just as before, he sat hunched in a lawn chair, both of his hands perched on a cane in front of him, as he watched the world around him.

There was a saying when Olive was growing up that the best prevention against crime was a nosy neighbor. This man needed a prize for that.

She paced closer so the man could hear her and handed him something she’d picked up on the way here. “I noticed you like these.”

He raised his shaggy brows before opening the bag. Then a grin spread across his face when he saw the bottle of lemonade inside. “This is my favorite.”

“I thought you liked that brand.” Gifts usually earned a lot of bonus points with people.

“Thank you.” He twisted the top and took a long sip. “Best lemonade around.”

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

Olive smiled at his enthusiasm. “Anything new since I was here last?”

He shrugged. “Not really. It’s been pretty quiet. For someone who likes to people watch, there hasn’t been much to see.”

“That’s too bad.” Olive glanced back at her old house. She wasn’t sure why she was disappointed. Why she had wanted more—or expected there to actually be more.

“I’m not sure what you’re looking for. I’m guessing you might want to purchase the old family home and that’s why you’re here?”

She licked her lips, realizing the explanation was plausible. “The thought has crossed my mind.”

“In that case, there was someone over at your old place this morning,” the man continued. “Didn’t really seem important earlier. But maybe it is now.”

Olive swung her head back toward him. “Was there?”

She needed more information.

“I figured it was a real estate agent or something,” the neighbor said. “Certainly, the house has to go on the market again sometime. It can’t sit there empty forever.”

Olive turned back to the neighbor. “Tell me about this real estate agent.”

The man grunted. “Not much to tell. Some man wearing a suit went to the front door, then walked around the house. Figured he was checking it out for a potential sale. Or maybe he was even from the bank. I didn’t ask.”

It was strange because this man seemed like exactly the type who’d ask anyone who stopped by what they were doing. He certainly hadn’t let Olive get away with snooping without interrogation.

“Was he older or younger?” she asked.

“Well, my definition of younger might be different than your definition of younger.” He let out a cackle before breaking into a coughing fit. “If I had to guess, I’d say he was probably in his late forties. Dark hair. Trim build. Looked like he may have had some acne when he was younger, if you know what I mean.”

“Pock marks,” Olive said.

Unfortunately, that didn’t fit the description of the man Olive thought she’d seen at Goodmen Marketing—the same man she thought she’d seen with her dad when she was growing up. Nor did it fit the description of anyone else she’d met since she’d been in town. Who was he?

She turned back toward the man. “Tell me, are there any other residents on the street who’ve lived here a while?”

Olive didn’t remember most of her neighbors from back then. After moving so much, getting to know too many people seemed useless. Developing relationships took so much time and effort, only for her family to leave again.

“Honestly, there aren’t very many who’ve lived here long. A lot of the old-timers moved out—some to nursing homes, others to bigger homes. Some have passed. Now there are lots of families with young children in this area. I think they call these starter homes or something. Anyway, I wish I could help you more.”

“No, this is great, thank you.” She nodded toward the house. “I’m just going to walk around one more time to see if that man left anything.”

She remembered the note she’d found last time. Had someone left another message just in case she returned? It seemed like a possibility.

Or would that man be in the woods again? The one she’d chased?

“You go right ahead.” The man took another sip of his lemonade. “I won’t tell anybody.”

“Perfect. You have a good night.”

With that said, Olive started back toward the house, her muscles poised to act if necessary.

She paced around the front first. Then walked along the sidewalk, up the driveway, and toward the back.

Nothing looked different.

When she reached the backyard, she scanned the woods for any signs of trouble.

She saw nothing.

Then she glanced at the back door, halfway expecting to see another note there.

There was no note.

She paused and squinted.

However, the door was open just about an inch.

And it hadn’t been like that when she was here yesterday.