anyone she cared about. After all, she didn’t care what anyone thought about her clothes anyway.
She wasn’t prepared for just how wrong that way of thinking was about to go.
Eleven
Annie Dresden’s rental property was something of an enigma. After spending twenty minutes watching the small ranch house from her purple Ford Focus trying to decide the best way to search the property, Harper approached it cautiously. In truth, she really wanted to make sure no one was inside the house.
It was dark and empty. The occupant was never coming home – not as a living entity, at least.
Harper didn’t know what she expected. The property appeared close to the St. Clair Community College campus on a map, but it was actually surrounded by woods. Since it was dark, Harper couldn’t ascertain if there was a trail that led through the thick trees. She guessed it didn’t matter. Still, the quiet house was not how Harper remembered her college days.
Even though the house was isolated Harper knew her plaid, cotton sleep pants stood out against the stark night sky. They were pink and white, and the tank top she was wearing was also pink – although she’d opted for a black hoodie to wear over it. If anyone was watching there was no way she could hide. She silently cursed herself for not taking the time to change her clothes, but it was too late now. She was here and she had a task to do.
Harper pocketed her keys and took an arcing trek around the house. She was used to ghosts, but she wasn’t above a good scare from time to time. Since she was alone, she didn’t want to panic if Annie Dresden popped up out of nowhere.
As she stepped to the side of the house Harper moved close enough to peer through a window. The moon was bright, but it didn’t give off enough illumination to give Harper an idea of how Annie lived and that was something Harper realized she needed to know if she was going to discover how the woman died.
“Are you a pervert or something?”
Harper jumped when she heard the voice, pasting a rueful smile on her face as she turned and regarded Annie’s ethereal visage. “Not last time I checked,” she said. “My best friend told me I was frigid before he left on his date tonight.”
Annie arched an eyebrow, a mannerism remaining from life. There was a sardonic twist about it Harper couldn’t help but enjoy. “You’re best friends with a man?” Annie asked. “How does that work?”
“We’ve been best friends since elementary school so I’ve never really known friendship to be any other way,” Harper explained.
“How come you don’t date? If you like each other so much you would think dating would be the logical next step.”
“He’s gay.”
“Ah.”
“And kind of fickle,” Harper added. “He’s the best friend I’ve ever had and he will always be a sort of … soul mate … for me. We could never be in a relationship, though. Even if he wasn’t gay that would never work out.”
“Is he ugly?” Annie asked, genuinely curious.
“No. He’s just a constant pain in my rear end,” Harper said. “If we dated I’d have to smother him in his sleep. His antics are a lot funnier when romantic love isn’t attached to them.”
Annie laughed, the south full of mirth despite her circumstances. “You’re funny. Is he funny, too?”
“He’s very funny,” Harper said. “You’d probably like him.”
“Is he the guy who was at the beach with you today?”
“That’s him,” Harper said, hoping that holding up her end of a friendly conversation would be enough to get Annie to trust her. She was determined to help, but she needed information to do it. Annie wasn’t going to trust a stranger with the biggest secrets of her life … even if they led to eventually solving her death. “He keeps making me go to the same café on Main Street because he’s been cruising the waiter. He finally went out with him tonight so we can start eating at more than one
She wasn’t prepared for just how wrong that way of thinking was about to go.
Eleven
Annie Dresden’s rental property was something of an enigma. After spending twenty minutes watching the small ranch house from her purple Ford Focus trying to decide the best way to search the property, Harper approached it cautiously. In truth, she really wanted to make sure no one was inside the house.
It was dark and empty. The occupant was never coming home – not as a living entity, at least.
Harper didn’t know what she expected. The property appeared close to the St. Clair Community College campus on a map, but it was actually surrounded by woods. Since it was dark, Harper couldn’t ascertain if there was a trail that led through the thick trees. She guessed it didn’t matter. Still, the quiet house was not how Harper remembered her college days.
Even though the house was isolated Harper knew her plaid, cotton sleep pants stood out against the stark night sky. They were pink and white, and the tank top she was wearing was also pink – although she’d opted for a black hoodie to wear over it. If anyone was watching there was no way she could hide. She silently cursed herself for not taking the time to change her clothes, but it was too late now. She was here and she had a task to do.
Harper pocketed her keys and took an arcing trek around the house. She was used to ghosts, but she wasn’t above a good scare from time to time. Since she was alone, she didn’t want to panic if Annie Dresden popped up out of nowhere.
As she stepped to the side of the house Harper moved close enough to peer through a window. The moon was bright, but it didn’t give off enough illumination to give Harper an idea of how Annie lived and that was something Harper realized she needed to know if she was going to discover how the woman died.
“Are you a pervert or something?”
Harper jumped when she heard the voice, pasting a rueful smile on her face as she turned and regarded Annie’s ethereal visage. “Not last time I checked,” she said. “My best friend told me I was frigid before he left on his date tonight.”
Annie arched an eyebrow, a mannerism remaining from life. There was a sardonic twist about it Harper couldn’t help but enjoy. “You’re best friends with a man?” Annie asked. “How does that work?”
“We’ve been best friends since elementary school so I’ve never really known friendship to be any other way,” Harper explained.
“How come you don’t date? If you like each other so much you would think dating would be the logical next step.”
“He’s gay.”
“Ah.”
“And kind of fickle,” Harper added. “He’s the best friend I’ve ever had and he will always be a sort of … soul mate … for me. We could never be in a relationship, though. Even if he wasn’t gay that would never work out.”
“Is he ugly?” Annie asked, genuinely curious.
“No. He’s just a constant pain in my rear end,” Harper said. “If we dated I’d have to smother him in his sleep. His antics are a lot funnier when romantic love isn’t attached to them.”
Annie laughed, the south full of mirth despite her circumstances. “You’re funny. Is he funny, too?”
“He’s very funny,” Harper said. “You’d probably like him.”
“Is he the guy who was at the beach with you today?”
“That’s him,” Harper said, hoping that holding up her end of a friendly conversation would be enough to get Annie to trust her. She was determined to help, but she needed information to do it. Annie wasn’t going to trust a stranger with the biggest secrets of her life … even if they led to eventually solving her death. “He keeps making me go to the same café on Main Street because he’s been cruising the waiter. He finally went out with him tonight so we can start eating at more than one
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