Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 106839 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106839 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
I watch the guys work the dogs, going to each group and offering tips and praise. And once that’s over, I turn and start walking back down the driveway.
I’m just about to head up my porch steps to grab my truck keys when I see that stupid inspector sneaking off into the woods. I pause, wondering if I should follow him. I know Collin said to leave him alone, but Collin wasn’t against us figuring out what he was up to. He just didn’t want me to make things worse than they need to be.
Of course, we’re all thinking that this inspection is just Charlie keeping an eye on us. But if that’s really it, then why is he going into the woods?
The only thing out in the woods—aside from trails to run—is the shootin’ range. But the inspector isn’t heading in the direction of the range, he’s actually heading in the direction of the old mine. And now I’m thinking… maybe he isn’t here just to check on us? Maybe he’s here for something that has nothing to do with us at all.
And maybe that all leads back to Blackberry Hill?
Am I jumping the gun with this conclusion?
Maybe.
But it is sorta weird that there’s some kind of secret military base up there in those hills. Collin mentioned that he thought it was an underground base. I didn’t get all the specifics about Lowyn’s connection to Ike Monroe because that’s personal and none of my business. But Collin did tell me that he thought there were tunnels up there and that Lowyn said she saw some kind of basement control room inside Ike Monroe’s house.
I should follow that inspector. I should figure out what he’s up to.
But as soon as this idea floats around in my head, I hear Collin’s voice—just let the man do his job.
So fine. That’s what I decide to do because I’ve put Rosie Harlow off for too long this morning already and I know that she’s working in that little shop down in Bishop. So I push Sawyer Martin to the back of my mind and bring Rosie to the front.
Thirty minutes later I’m walking down the little pathway that leads to the Bishop Busybody and then I’m pulling open the door. A little bell jingles above my head and since I wasn’t sure what to expect, I’m slightly fascinated about what I find inside.
An ancient printing press—I think. A desk. A counter covered in ancient printing paraphernalia. And, of course, Rosie Harlow.
She does a wild turn that makes her elaborate dress swish, and then gasps with her hands up to her heart. Like I scared her.
“Hey, Rosie.”
“Amon! What are you doing here?” This comes out a little bit too loud and kinda frantic.
Which surprises me. I mean, it’s not like we haven’t been bumping into each other nearly every day for the past week. “I… just… thought I’d stop by.”
Rosie takes a step backwards, kinda giving me the side-eye. “Any… particular reason?”
“What’s wrong with you, Rosie?”
“Nothing. What’s wrong with you?”
I narrow my eyes at her. Because she’s acting weird. Like she’s in some kind of trouble, but trying to act natural and shit. I shift my gaze from her to the room, looking for anything that might come off as suspicious. Then I reach for my sidearm, but of course, it’s not there.
When Collin said he was gonna carry after that whole thing up on Blackberry Hill, I laughed at him. “This is Trinity County, Collin. Of all the places on the earth, this is the last one I’d expect us to be carrying heat.”
He didn’t care what I thought. He open-carries every fuckin’ day. And right now, I wish I was carrying too.
“Did you just reach for a weapon?”
I glance over at Rosie. “Huh?” I’m distracted by my heightened sense of alert and lack of firearm.
“Amon, I would like you to leave.”
I look around, nodding. Then I wink at her. “OK. I’m going…” But I’m not going. I’m slowly and silently sidestepping so I can get a peek around the counter.
“Amon!”
“I’m leaving.” But I’m not, I’m just saying that so whoever is hiding out in here, trying to make her make me leave, will think that I am.
Rosie makes a sudden movement, which kicks in my extensively honed self-defense skills, and suddenly she’s coming at me with a fancy umbrella. I deflect, grab the umbrella, and toss it aside.
Rosie gasps, screams, and then I’m whirling in place—really wishing for that fuckin’ sidearm—trying to figure out where the intruder might be hiding in this tiny little space. Rosie makes a dash for the door, swishin’ right past me, opening it up, and rushin’ through it.
I ignore her and keep looking for the cause of all this drama.
But now that said drama is over, it is very clear that there is no one here but me. I go outside, shaking my head, and find Rosie Harlow rushing through her little gate like a bat out of hell.