Page 59 of Hard Heart

Heidi was touching up her make-up in the visor mirror. “Just a second.”

“Do you need the mascara?”

“Of course. And you should use eyeliner and add a touch of sparkle—do you want to be mistaken for one of those door-to-door religion salespeople? Put the notepad away; it looks too much like a pamphlet.”

“I don’t think⁠—”

She shoved a pot of shimmery eyeshadow at me. “And wear some of this.”

For Pete’s sake. It was easier to comply than to argue.

There were six names on our list:

Joe Denyer

Max Toben

Stacie Hurst

Avril Mason

Bitsy Reynolds

Lori Young

The first was a bust. The new owner of Joe Denyer’s home told us he’d moved to Toledo last year to live with his daughter. And the second property was in darkness. No car on the drive, no answer when we rang the bell.

“At this rate, we might be able to detour via Shenandoah Park on the way back,” Heidi said. “Did you bring your hiking boots?”

“Oh, please. I don’t even own hiking boots.”

A harried-looking woman with dark shadows under her eyes answered door number three with a baby perched on her hip.

“Hi, my name is Serafina Hennessy, and⁠—”

“Whatever you’re selling, I’m not interested.”

Slam.

“We’re not selling anything,” I called through the door.

“Still not interested.”

Dammit. This was going even worse than I’d feared it would.

“At least it wasn’t a totally wasted trip,” Heidi said as we trudged back down the driveway. “I mean, you did some revision.”

“You think? That was fifty bucks in gas money I couldn’t afford, and several hours of sleep I could have caught up on.”

A small boy answered door number four, five or six years old at a guess, and shouldn’t he have been in school? I crouched to his level.

“Hi, is your mommy home?”

“Yep.” He coughed all over me, then sniffled for good measure. Fantastic.

“Do you think you could fetch her?”

“Yep.”