Page 66 of Deception

“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, therewassomeone 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.