Unhallowed Ground. Heather Graham

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Unhallowed Ground - Heather  Graham

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      She was quiet for a moment, then shook her head. “I don’t know. I honestly don’t know. Anyway, don’t worry about paying. Al—the bartender—told me that Harry was here earlier, saw us and told our waitress not to give us a check. So we were all Harry’s guests tonight. And I have to show up to work tomorrow morning, too, so I need to get going.”

      “Let’s go, then.”

      She waved to several people as they left, and a few called out to her in return, but at least no one was asking her about the grisly find in her house.

      Even so, he was certain that the whispering would start as soon as they were gone.

      They walked in silence for a few minutes. “So what will you be doing tomorrow?” she eventually asked him.

      “Heading to Jacksonville,” he said.

      She looked over at him. “You think your missing girl is in Jacksonville?”

      “No. I think she’s here. And I think Winona Hart is going to be found here, too—eventually. But I want to go to the agency where Jennie rented her car. I would have done that today, but I had the opportunity to go on the dive, and I didn’t want to miss it.”

      “There is the possibility that she just drove off into the sunset,” Sarah said.

      “No. She didn’t get insurance on the car because her parents had insurance that already covered her. If she’d been planning on just taking off with the car, she’d have bought insurance so that her parents wouldn’t be liable,” he said.

      “You overestimate people,” Sarah said. “If she was depressed or upset about something, she wouldn’t have been thinking about insurance.”

      “But she wasn’t depressed, and she wasn’t upset.”

      “How can you be so certain?”

      “I talked to her parents.”

      “The parents are often the last to know,” she reminded him.

      “Not these parents.”

      She was still skeptical, he could see, but he didn’t argue with her.

      “Do you really think you can read people that well?” she asked at last.

      “Not always, but sometimes? Yes.”

      “Some people wear very convincing masks,” Sarah pointed out.

      “Very true.”

      “So how do you deal with that?” she asked.

      “All masks crack with time, or under the right heat,” he said. “So what about you? What will you be doing tomorrow?”

      “Oh, I’ll be going to work. I need the money more than ever now,” she said, her tone slightly resentful.

      “You’re not going to hang at home, hovering over your property?”

      “I’ll let them tramp around a while on their own. Then I’ll get involved,” she said.

      They had reached the B&B. Caleb used his key to open the front door instead of going around the side to his private entrance. “Thanks for inviting me tonight,” he said.

      “I’m glad you could come,” she answered, but there wasn’t a lot of warmth in her words. They were courteous, spoken by rote.

      “Well, have a good day at work tomorrow. And…hey.”

      “Hey what?”

      “Be careful. Something does seem to be going on around here,” he said.

      She smiled. “I’m not a blonde. And I’m sure not about to run out and buy a big bottle of bleach right now.”

      “Two blondes have gone missing, true. But that fact might be coincidence. If the two disappearances are connected, the real link might be something else entirely,” Caleb said. “Everyone needs to be careful right now. No one knows yet what links the missing girls.”

      She smiled. “I’ll be careful. And I’ll see you at breakfast, anyway.”

      “Right.”

      She hadn’t headed toward her room yet. The light coming from the parlor was dim, but he could see that she was staring at him closely. “Caroline is convinced that she’s seen you before.”

      “Yeah, I know. But I don’t see how. But anything is possible, I guess. Maybe we crossed paths in an airport somewhere.”

      She was still staring at him.

      “Yes?” he said at last.

      “I was just curious,” she said.

      “About?”

      “When does your mask crack? When do we get to know the real you?”

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