Page 61 of Postmarked December

“That’s the optimist in you. You want people to be inherently good.”

Heather made a turn and drove down a side street lined with bungalows. “I’m usually a decent judge of character. He didn’t seem like an awful person.”

“You told him who you were. He knew full well what he wasn’t telling you.”

“I know. It’s so baffling.”

“You can’t fathom it because you’re a good person,” Marion said. “But not everyone has your standards.”

“Clearly. The entity paying for the biography, Nick, and probably the publisher are all shady people if they’re doing this without my knowledge. Not one of them, that I’m aware of, has contacted me except Nick. And when I told him I wasn’t interested and didn’t take his calls, he resorted to devious tactics to get what he wanted. Why can’t people just leave me alone?”

“I don’t know why people do what they do.”

“Wait,” Heather whispered, slowing down. She pulled over in front of a bungalow down the street from Nick’s and turned off her car to be inconspicuous. Her heart pattered in her chest. “I see him.”

“What’s he doing?”

“He’s getting the mail.” She squinted down the street, and her heart skipped a beat, seeing him again. Her buried emotions hadn’t caught up with the fact that he was a total jerk.

He went around the side of the house.

“He’s out of view. Let me move closer.” She started the engine and shifted into drive.

“Be careful.”

Slowly, she drove toward his residence, unable to see him. She moved nearer to the driveway, then slouched down and decelerated to a roll.

“See anything?”

“A shadow crossed through the front window, and I think I saw a dog jump up.” That was promising. At least he was truthful about Ophelia.

But when she got to the other side of the driveway, with a gasp, she slammed on her brakes, the car jerking to a stop in the middle of the road.

“What? Tell me.”

It felt as if the blood was draining from her body. What does this mean?

“What is it, Heather?” Marion’s voice pushed through.

“Um…” She struggled to get her mind around what she’d seen. Her mouth was dry, her heart hammering, her fingers trembling. “He has a…” She couldn’t breathe, she was lightheaded.

“A what?”

“He drives a white Suburban.” Her emotions became a tidal wave that overpowered her, sending her to the darkest depths of the ocean. In that moment, she wanted to rewind time and take back her wish that Nick had been behind the notes.

“Go to The Steaming Quill right now. I’ll meet you there.”

Forcing herself to see the road through her tears, she punched the gas and didn’t look back. As she drove, a question ballooned in her mind. She tried not to let it push through, but it was relentless. What if the notes, too, had all been a lie? Had Nick somehow gotten Toby’s personal things—maybe he came by when Toby’s nurse was with him, claiming to be a friend or something. Why would he do that? Unless that was how he’d gotten what he needed for the book. Anxiety from such a deception pulsed through her.

In a few minutes, she was locating parallel parking options outside the coffee shop. She squeezed into a nonexistent spot and got out. Marion was already walking toward her and ushering her into the building. Heather went inside, dazed.

“Go sit. I’ll get us each a coffee,” Marion said.

Her mind going a hundred miles an hour, Heather found a seat at a table in the corner of the shop, away from other patrons.

A white SUV had been at the tree lot. It had sped off so they wouldn’t see who was in it. And then, on the way to the cabin, she’d seen a white SUV again. If he had those personal details, what else did he have? How did he get that information from Toby? Even in his darkest hours, Toby would never have divulged anything. She racked her brain.

Suddenly, more became clear. Stargate Publishing had a last-minute request from someone who’d written something about Toby and needed to double-check their copyright information for a couple of his songs before it was distributed. Books had copyrights. Would Stargate Publishing have sold that person his songs for a price, and that was how she’d received the uncut sheet music?