Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 128488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Noelle shifted in her seat. She felt irrationally bitter and worked to tamp that down. It was funny that it was still her gut reaction to defend her father when it came to a Sinclair. Even if that Sinclair had turned out to be a decent human being and was the father of her child. “Did she find anything?” she asked, attempting to sound casual.
“She did. Your father filed a missing person report right before you were reported missing.”
What? She frowned. “On whom?”
“A man by the name of Dow Maginn.”
It took a moment for the name to penetrate her memories. “Dow? He went missing?”
“Not only that, but he was later found murdered, the gunshot victim of an apparent mugging.”
“I didn’t know.” She gave her head a small shake. “He was my dad’s friend. I think we sent him an invitation to the memorial, but Paula took care of all of that. If the invite got returned, she probably just tossed it. Or if she asked me, which I don’t remember, I probably figured he’d moved or his shop went out of business. The guy wasn’t necessarily the most stable person. I remember him being a heavy drinker when he was at our house. He and my dad would watch a game, and he’d pass out on our couch.” She frowned again. “When I . . . came home, I had no reason to look into his whereabouts. I’m honestly surprised my dad even noticed he was missing. They were friends, but from what I recall, there were periods of time where Dow didn’t come around for months. That was just him.”
Evan tapped his fingers on the edge of the table. “What else do you remember about him? He owned a computer repair shop, right?”
She nodded, casting her mind back. It’d been so long since she’d seen Dow Maginn, or any of her father’s old friends, mostly tradesmen who often worked together on jobs or recommended each other to those looking to have work done. She’d barely remembered his name when Evan said it, or that he existed at all. He was a nice enough guy, but he was her dad’s friend. She hadn’t missed his presence in her life. “Yeah. He did work with computers.” She remembered something. “He might have been into some low-level hacking,” she said. “I think I remember hearing him brag that he’d changed the amount he paid for his electric bill or something. I remember wondering if he could change my math grade in the school computer.”
Evan tilted his head, running his hand over his jaw. “Hacking the electric company? That doesn’t sound low level.”
“No, maybe not.”
They sat there for another minute, Evan’s tapping becoming quicker, as though keeping tempo with his speeding thoughts. “Computer hacking,” he repeated. “Noelle, you do realize that if we were being watched, there’d have to be a person, or people, on the other side of a screen?”
She stared at him in the low light. “Are you suggesting that Dow . . . had something to do with what happened to us?”
“I have no evidence of that. But it’s odd, right?”
She massaged her head. Maybe. Maybe not. It was all too much. “I don’t know what to think.”
Evan sighed, running his palms over his thighs. “You’re tired. And I know you have work tomorrow. I should go. If you think on it, though, and anything comes to you that might help regarding Dow Maginn, will you let me know?”
“I will,” she said, standing, Evan following suit. She grabbed the empty bottles, and they went into the house. She set the bottles on the counter, and they walked toward the front door.
Evan glanced toward Callie’s room as they passed the hallway. When they got to the door, he turned toward her. “Will you let me know . . .”
She nodded. “I’ll call and let you know her schedule tomorrow to see what works. She loves to go on bike rides. Especially if it involves ice cream.” She smiled, feeling sort of awkward and shy for some reason. “Maybe you’d like to take her on one. Sweetgrass rents bikes. I could have one delivered to you.”
“I’d love that,” he said, the words spilling out quickly as though he was eager to cement the plans before she withdrew them. She wasn’t going to do that, though. Now that he knew about his daughter, she wasn’t going to keep her from him.
“Great. Have a good night, Evan.” She pulled the door open, and he stepped through, turning again.
“Thanks for tonight,” he said. “Not just for letting me tag along . . . spend time with you and Callie, but for listening to what I had to say about my own investigation. I know it’s not easy dredging all that up. You could have refused to talk about it.”