Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
He flashed a cocky smile that got him a lot of tail, but didn’t do shit for me. “It’s not eight o’clock yet. I’m telling Opal about the future Mrs. Tobey. Went out on a date last night. I’m in love, I tell ya.”
I walked past him and took a seat at my desk. “Are we still on nurses?”
Porter Tobey had worked for me for three years now. Year one he’d been on a teacher kick, dating only elementary-school teachers, said they were motherly and doting. Year two he’d moved on to flight attendants, which wasn’t an easy thing to do considering our little town was forty-five minutes from the nearest airport. But he’d been dedicated and spent a lot of time at the airport bars, with an empty suitcase to look like a traveler and all. He liked flight attendants because they weren’t doting—said he found their independence refreshing. Now it was nurses. There were more than a handful of those in Laurel Lake, and I wondered if the switch had anything to do with the long drive to the airport and skyrocketing gas prices.
“Nurses are so warm and caring.” He sighed.
“How about the ladies at the unemployment office? How are they? Because that’s where you’re going to be spending your time—” I motioned to the door with two fingers. “—if you don’t get your ass out of my office.”
Porter stood. “You know, my lady nurse has a lot of friends. Maybe I can ask her to fix you up and we can double date. Might help get rid of the bad mood you’ve been in lately, you know, for the last three years.”
“Out!”
Porter scurried out of the trailer, leaving just me and Opal. She shook her head. “You should be nicer to that boy. He looks up to you.”
“He’s twenty-seven, only six years younger than me. So he’s not a boy. And he looks up to me because I got nine inches on him.”
“He lost his father at a tender age. You’re a role model.”
“Then I’m helping by teaching him a solid work ethic.” I pointed to the printer. “Speaking of work, think you can print me out the specs for the Franklin job?”
She looked at her watch. “After I call my mother. You might be able to bully Porter into starting before his shift begins, but you don’t scare me.”
I had the pleasure of listening to Opal discuss her mother’s bunions for the next ten minutes. At promptly eight, she hung up, punched a few keys on the computer, and paper started to spit from the printer. Our desks were maybe ten feet apart, max. Opal walked the stack over. “Good morning, boss. Here are the Franklin specs.”
“Thank you,” I grumbled.
I read what she’d handed me, but Opal didn’t move. Instead, she waited for me to look up again.
I sighed and lowered the papers. “Yes?”
She smiled. “I heard you have a new neighbor. Name’s Josie.”
“Jesus Christ. Is there anyone who doesn’t know?”
“Reuben at the gas station said she’s very pretty.”
Blond hair, light blue eyes, and skin that made me wonder if it was as soft as it looked. But I wasn’t about to give the town gossip anything more to talk about by sharing my opinions. I shrugged. “Didn’t notice.”
“She’s a scientist, you know.”
“You sure you got the right neighbor?”
“Lives in Mrs. Wollman’s place—the old hoarder.”
My brows pulled tight. “How did you know Mrs. Wollman was a hoarder?”
“Everyone in town knew that.” Opal’s eyes swept over my face. “Except you, apparently. Anyway, pretty girl’s a doctor—not the kind you go to when you’re not feeling well or break a bone, but one of those researcher types. Got a big job, develops new drugs for some pharmaceutical company.”
Well, I hoped she was better at making pills than she was managing a construction project. “Good for her.”
“And Frannie at the post office said her mail is forwarded for sixty days, not permanently.”
“Doesn’t the government have privacy rules Frannie should be following? Or does she open people’s bills and letters and spread gossip about that, too?”
“She also gets holiday cards from Josie—Frannie, not the post office. Though obviously it must come through that channel to get to Frannie.”
My brows drew together. “They know each other?”
“Nope. First time Frannie met her was when she came in to pick up her forwarded mail a few days ago.”
“Yet she gets Christmas cards from her?”
“Not just Christmas, but Easter and Thanksgiving, too. They exchange cards for every holiday.”
“What am I missing here? They don’t know each other yet they swap holiday cards?”
“Yep.”
“How does that work?”
“Don’t quite understand it myself. But Frannie said they started exchanging cards a decade ago. Apparently a few hundred come through the post office with the same return address a few times a year. Dr. Josie sends a lot of cards to the people of Laurel Lake.”