Minutes later, I walk into Winston’s Autobody. Winston himself happens to be at the counter. He’s wiping his hands on a cloth as I approach the counter.
“Hey, Brody. I was going to call you this morning. It took longer than expected to figure out what was wrong with Melody’s car. I finally solved the problem about ten minutes ago. It’s fixed, but you’re not going to like what I found.”
I wince. “Not the battery, then?”
“No. Took me a while to eliminate the other possibilities and check the fuses. Brody… Someone removed the ignition fuse.”
“Fuck.”
“I heard that Melody’s house was vandalized yesterday.”
I nod. “Yes. Again today, too. Someone is fucking with her.”
Winston cringes. “Who would mess with Melody Thorne? She’s such a nice lady. Quiet. Keeps to herself. I can’t imagine her ever making an enemy.”
“I can’t either, Winston.” I hand him my credit card. “I can’t take the car just now. I’m in my truck. I’ll send someone to get it out later.”
“No problem.” Winston hands me back my card. “Hope you figure out who’s fucking with that girl.”
“Sheriff Johnston is on it. I think he’s close.”
“Good.”
After pocketing the keys, I turn and leave the shop. I’d like to get back to the mansion before Johnston arrives.
Chapter 21
Brody
* * *
Melody is pacing in her office when I open the door. She spins around to face me. Fury is written all over her face, and for a moment, I think she has already spoken to the sheriff. Maybe he called her.
She points toward her computer. “Someone is trying to blackmail me.”
I wince. Fuck. We suspected this might happen. “What happened?”
“They emailed me. Told me if I don’t get out of town, they will out me to the entire town.”
My nostrils flare. I’m so fucking angry.
She comes to me, her shoulders dropping.
I wrap her in my arms. “I’m so sorry, baby. If it’s any consolation, I’m pretty sure we know who it is. Sheriff Johnston is coming here in a few minutes to talk to us.”
She tips her head back. “Who do you think it is?”
“Whoever fills in for Jessop when he’s not delivering the mail.”
She gasps. “It’s a woman. I don’t know her.”
I nod. “Yes. We figured that out from your camera. A woman put your mail in the box the day your book didn’t arrive. And Sheriff Johnston set up a second camera at your place last night. Again, a woman came to add to her artwork. And I just spoke to Winston about your car. It’s fixed, but someone intentionally disabled it. I’d say that has to have been the same person.”
“What a bitch,” Melody grumbles.
“Yes. What I want to know is why?”
“Oh, you don’t have to wonder about that anymore. She makes herself super clear in her email. She thinks I’m a ‘skanky whore’ who ‘doesn’t belong in this town, filling people’s heads with my filth.’ Lots of words about God and what a heathen I am and how my soul is going to rot in hell. Blah blah blah.”
