Page 6 of The Sole Suspect

The beta’s eyes widened in recognition. “Oh, from Cobblers’ Corner and Vintage Vogue! Of course, follow me.”

She led us through the bustling main room to a quieter back office. Adelaide sat behind a massive oak desk, her silver hair gleaming under the warm lamplight. She looked up as weentered, her bright green eyes sharp behind vintage cat-eye glasses.

“Mr. Sterling-Hart, Mr. Lee,” she greeted us, her voice clipped. “What can I do for you?”

I pulled out my phone and swiped to one of the photos I’d taken of the defaced campaign posters. I stepped forward, turning the phone towards her. I watched as her green eyes narrowed behind those distinctive cat-eye glasses.

“We hoped you might have some insight,” I said.

Adelaide leaned forward, her silver bob catching the warm lamplight as she studied the image on my phone. The delicate brooch on her lapel—a miniature replica of our town’s iconic clock tower—glinted as she moved. I held my breath, waiting for her reaction.

“Yes, I’m well aware of that incident.” Adelaide’s lips thinned. “I’m not sure what insight I could offer that the police don’t already have.”

Penny piped up, his tone uncharacteristically serious. “We noticed some... disruption outside. Has your office been targeted as well?”

A flicker of something—fear? Anger?—crossed Adelaide’s face. “It’s nothing to concern yourselves with. Just some overenthusiastic opposition supporters, I’m sure.”

I shared a glance with Penny. This wasn’t going to be easy. Time for a different approach.

“Councilwoman,” I said, reaching into my pocket. “I received this two months ago, the night my shop was vandalized.”

I hesitated, my fingers lingering over the smooth surface of my phone. Sharing this felt like peeling back a layer of armor. Before I could think twice about it, I quickly swiped to the offending image and held my phone out toward Adelaide so she could see the note with its jagged red letters stark against the white paper. Adelaide’s eyes widened, her composure cracking for a moment.

I watched her reaction and knew I’d made the right call.

“Where did you get that?” she whispered, fingers hovering over my phone as if she wanted to grab it. I tracked her hand as it drifted back to her desk.

“It was tied to a brick that someone hurled through my shop’s window two months ago,” I replied, watching her closely. “The same night the corruption scandal broke.”

Adelaide slumped back in her chair, suddenly looking every one of her fifty-eight years. “I hoped it was an isolated incident,” she murmured.

“You’ve received similar threats?” Penny asked gently.

She nodded, reaching into a drawer and pulling out a small stack of papers. “They started about a month ago. At first, I thought it was just campaign intimidation tactics, but...”

I leaned forward, scanning the notes. The handwriting matched the one I’d received. “Do you have any idea who might be behind this?”

Adelaide’s gaze sharpened. “Not concretely, but I have my suspicions. This trouble started right around the time Blake Harrington announced his candidacy.”

Penny and I exchanged glances. “You think Harrington’s involved?” I asked.

“I can’t prove anything,” Adelaide said, her voice low. “But his sudden interest in Millcrest politics... it’s convenient timing, don’t you think?”

“His relatives once owned land around here, didn’t they? Maybe Blake just wants to get involved in local government?” Penny said, tapping his chin. “Not everyone has hidden motives.”

“Blake’s a developer, not a politician,” Adelaide said. “He showed zero interest in running this city until the corruption story hit the papers. And let’s not forget—this newfound civic duty appeared right after several property owners refused to sell to him.”

I watched Penny consider this information. His expression shifted from skepticism to understanding. The timing did seem suspicious.

I extended my hand to Adelaide. “Thank you for your time, Councilwoman. This has been incredibly helpful.”

Before Penny and I could make our exit, Adelaide reached into her desk drawer. “Oh, before you go,” she said, pulling out a handful of glossy pins emblazoned with her campaign slogan. She pressed them into our hands with a wink. “I trust I can count on your support come election day?”

I caught Penny’s eye and we both grinned politely, playing along with Adelaide’s campaign pitch. We pocketed the pins as we slipped out of her office and into the bustling hallway beyond.

“Well, that was illuminating,” Penny said as we stepped out into the sunlight. “What do you think?”

I frowned, mulling over Adelaide’s words. “I think we need to pay Mr. Harrington a visit.”