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)
“Don’t tell me that! Oh my God, I’m dying to hear what’s next.” She lay her palms flat on the counter and leaned toward Sylvie. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
“What do you know about the man who was here asking questions about the house?” Sylvie asked.
Miss Carmody’s description fit what we got from the neighbor. Stocky, not short but not tall, trimmed mustache. She said he was wearing a hat, didn’t mention the bald spot, but that just meant Silas hadn’t taken off the hat.
“What did he ask about?” I asked.
Miss Carmody barely took her eyes off Sylvie to glance at me before she answered. “Houses for rent, when the Greens had last been in town, what I knew about their family, and the daughter.” She shrugged. “I told him what I’ll tell you. We haven’t seen hide nor hair of them in years. The Greens moved down to Florida, said they were saving the house for the girl if she ever moved home, though any of us could have told them that wasn’t going to happen. She hadn’t been home in ages. Didn’t know why they didn’t just sell it or rent it, just letting it sit. But Harold always had this thing about real estate. Fancied himself a flipper, though they never really flipped anything.”
I wondered if Emily Shaw’s parents, Harold Green and his unnamed wife, actually were in Florida. Were they still alive?
“What about Mrs. Green?” Sylvie asked. “What was her name?”
Miss Carmody helpfully supplied, “Helen. Harold and Helen. Nice folks. Always thought they were a little too good for the rest of their small-town neighbors, you know. But good folks all the same. Went to church, didn’t start trouble. But I wasn’t surprised when they decided to retire down south.”
“Did you tell the man who came in anything else?” Before she could answer, Sylvie followed up with, “Did he tell you his name?”
Miss Carmody shook her head. “No, and no. I wish I’d asked.” She paused. “Can I get your autograph?” she said to Sylvie.
“Of course.” Sylvie grinned. “What do you want me to sign?” She patted her pockets. “I don’t even have a pen. I wish I had something to give you, some swag or something like that, but—”
I wondered if Sylvie was going to tell her that everything she owned had blown up, but she stopped short of giving that much away.
“I’ve got a pen,” Miss Carmody said.
Sylvie turned to me. “Eli, do you have a business card or anything I can write on?”
“I might.” I pulled out my wallet and fished around. “I was going to give you this anyway, in case you heard anything.” I set it on the counter, turning it over so the blank back left room for Sylvie to sign. I hadn’t planned until right then to leave my card, but after seeing Miss Carmody again, I realized I was okay being recognized, at least by her. If there was even the slightest chance it could help me find Silas, I was willing to put up with whatever memories Miss Carmody might dredge up.
“My first name is Gertie,” she said. “Gertie Carmody.” She handed Sylvie a pen, and Sylvie hesitated, tapping the pen against her chin while she thought, before she wrote:
Thanks for being a fan, Gertie!
Sylvie Calloway
“This makes my day.”
Miss Carmody picked up the card and tapped it on the counter, then went stock-still when she saw my name on the other side.
I had the fleeting thought that I should have sent someone else to Hollow Creek before she said, “Eli? Eli Bishop?” She squinted up at me, studying my face. “Well, I’ll be. You’re the spitting image of your mama. I don’t know why I didn’t see it when you walked in. Those curls, those brown eyes. You’re so tall it threw me off. I bet you don’t remember me.”
Even though I’d been expecting the emotional hit, it was still a shock to have her bring up my mother. I shoved my hands in my pockets and ducked my head, suddenly feeling all of ten years old. “I do, ma’am. I just…”
She nodded soberly. “Haven’t been back since, huh? Must be hard.”
I nodded, my throat suddenly tight.
“We miss your family around here, Eli,” she said gently. I nodded again, and Gertie Carmody, taking pity on the child she’d known, let it go. “Well, I’m glad to see you again, looking so well,” she said, “and with my favorite podcaster. What a treat. Are you helping her investigate?”
“In a way,” I said. I mustered up a semi-authentic smile. “We’re partners. Kind of.”
“Except when you boss me around,” Sylvie said with a grin, poking me with her elbow.
Glad for the change in subject, I leaned into the jab. “Well, you’re a podcaster. You know about podcasting. I know about everything else.”