Page 26 of Talk to Me
How did she even manage good internet up here? Fuck knew, she had to have excellent connection. The isolation might help keep her off the grid. It was easier to be lost in a crowd. A tourist destination meant that year round residents were probably protective of their own.
The computer dinged and I glanced down in time to see the browser opening a map window, then the screen zeroed in, again and again until it covered a handful of homes about ten minutes from where I was sitting.
Swapping the view to street level, I studied the collection of houses. Nice, suburban, upper middle-class, and a little cookie cutter. Nothing to really stand out.
A perfect place to hide amongst civilians.
Would they notice if she was missing though?
Noting the address, I put it in the GPS before shutting down the laptop and heading for it. There were roughly seven houses along that street. There were other homes in other clusters, but it had the feel of urban planning, keeping a lot of open green areas around the homes.
A few of them had fenced yards. Some had gardens, at least from what I’d glimpsed. Based on when the images were shot, that could have changed.
On a whim, I dialed Patch’s number as I pulled onto her street. It went straight to the disconnected message with the advice to reach out for a new handler.
No.
Ending the call, I pulled over and studied the different houses. One had flowers out front. Another had perfect rows mowed into the lawn on the diagonal. Another house had hedges all across the front. The hedges were a good shield for windows. You’d get light but it made it hard for people to look in or get close.
Sight lines here were a mess.
Toys littered the yard of yet another house. While it looked like another home owner seemed determined to pull every non-existent weed in her flowerbeds while she watched another neighbor’s argument through their very open dining room windows.
Husband and wife gesticulated wildly. He was red-faced and she was implacable.
Yeah, give that one up, buddy. Whatever line of bullshit you’re trying to sell her, she isn’t believing.
I flicked a look back to the nervous Nellie who’d actually pulled a few flowers while she watched the fight. Gossip? Neighborhood news? Or…
A car passed me and pulled into the driveway with the nosy neighbor. The way she jumped? Yeah, she was in on whatever that secret was.
Frankly, I didn’t need an episode of Desperate Housewives of the Rocky Mountains.
More cars rolled in and I checked my watch. It was after five. People getting home from their nine to fives to their families. Cars pulled into four of the seven homes.
The only house with no movement was the tall hedges. The lights snapped on at five-thirty though. Nice and prompt even if the sun was still up.
If I were a betting man—that house was Patch’s. But time to do a little more sleuthing because with all the nosy neighbors around, I didn’t want to draw more attention. Even if I wanted to be inside her place and figuring out where she was…
Maybe she had a cold. They did happen.
Starting the car, I pulled out of the little neighborhood and drove a few blocks back to town. I pulled into another fast food place to steal their Wi-Fi.
Sundown was another hour away. As soon as it came, I was heading back to check out that house. In the meanwhile, I took my time looking up each address.
Some searches pulled up the names of the residents. Others gave me phone numbers. A couple gave me two names.
The house with the hedges?
No names.
No numbers.
Nada.
Zip.
There wasn’t even a realty listing for it.