The rules are simple here. You can haggle for a better deal, but if you can’t agree then that’s all there is to it. No one is entitled here and we’re all just getting through the day. Kindness also matters; a smile will get you far.
I’m practically floating after I get a good deal on a bundle of five lampshades along with a tip on where I might find some vintage fabric. The woman I talked to said the magical words—velvet and notions.
I slip between two tents, thinking I can cut through and get to where I need to be faster, but it’s clearly not really meant to be used this way. My steps slow when I hear some whispered voices from around the corner behind the booth I’m walking next to, and I freeze.
“There’s no way we can find another place in Monroe,” a man groans.
“Fine,” another man grunts, “but you need to find some place because they expect us to have an option for after we shut down operations at the Old Mill. Remember, it has to be big enough for the dogs.”
“Fuck,” the first man grits out, “I’ll do the best I can. I’ve been looking,” he tries to argue.
My brain is screaming at me to back away slowly. Just as I take a step, the first man makes a noise like he’s just figured something out. It rips through the tents, and I jolt and almost let out an unholy screech. Thankfully, my feet start to move again, and I do it slowly.
I suck in a breath the moment I breach the tent line, but I don’t stop. I pick up the shades I bought and then anxiously wait at the entrance while my heart starts to pound out of my chest.
I’m not entirely sure where they’re talking about. I can think of a few places in the surrounding counties which are referred to as the Old Mill because they once all were just that—the mill.
If it’s the one near Hickory, that’s the one I’m most familiar with. There are some hiking trails not far from the decrepit building, and I might have gone to a party out there once. It was the only time I did anything even remotely wild, and I felt so uncomfortable that I stayed for half an hour and then fled like the devil himself was chasing me.
Considering some of the things I saw in the shadows around the edges of the old structure, which had seen better days, the devil might have been nipping at my heels.
I have to figure out what to do with this information. Maybe I should check to see which Old Mill they’re talking about before I report it?
But no matter what, I have to get out of here first. I almost keel over when I catch sight of Jessi coming my way. The very last thing on my mind is Sheriff Wilder and whether or not he’s called me.
CHAPTER 9
RHODES
I’m looking at the map of my state, one where Loudon, Monroe, and McMinn counties are all blown up. What am I even looking for at this point? Everything is starting to blur together and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. I’ve been sitting here and studying this map for far too long with not a damn thing to show for it.
All because Lyons called me a few days ago with information which I haven’t been able to confirm or deny. I lean back in my chair and go over the conversation in my head. Again.
“Wilder,” I answered my ringing phone while I thought about what I was going to say to Helen and going back and forth between calling and texting her.
I was kind of spiraling, though I didn’t want anyone to know it. As much as I wanted to text her right after she gave me her number, I held off. Because I knew if I pushed too hard and moved too fast then she would try and put some walls up.
Considering the number of times I had already found myself in her orbit, intentionally with some coincidence mixed in, the last thing I wanted to do was give her a reason to run from me.
Hell no, it wasn’t even something I was willing to consider as a possibility. Not when I was spending so much time thinking about all the ways to make her mine permanently. But I knew it couldn’t happen until I messaged her.
And then Lyons’s gruff voice came through on the other end of the line, “Might have a lead.”
My entire body froze and, even though thoughts of Helen still hovered in the periphery of my mind, my focus was on Lyons and whatever news he had to tell me. The idea of finally, maybe, having a lead was intoxicating.
“What?” I sounded confused before I drew in a long breath and let it out slowly with the hope that it would slow my racing heart. My next words came out suspicious, “What kind of lead?”
Lyons chuckled and admitted, “Yeah, I wasn’t sure I believed it as well when I got the call from the Sheriff over in McMinn.”
“What’s the lead?”
“There’s been reports of movement out at the Old Mill. At first, he thought it was just some rowdy teenagers, seeing as the place has been abandoned for a long time,” he explained.
I couldn’t help but snort out a small laugh because it wouldn’t come as a surprise if some kids found an abandoned building and turned it into a party spot.
How many fields had I done the same in? How many beers had been drunk under the shadow of the old water tower at the edge of town? It rusted out and became unusable far before my time, but it still stood as a testament to what once was and bad decisions.
“Yeah,” Lyons agreed, “sounded plausible to me as well. I think every town has those kinds of spots.”
