The rip of the envelope opening echoed loudly in the empty hallway.
He pulled out a small card, read it, scowled, and handed it to me. “They say the killer is at City Market.”
“The shopping center?” I’d wanted to stop in and look at the cool souvenirs. Now that I knew a killer was hanging out inside, I wanted to go even more.
I grabbed the card from him and read it.
The person you’re looking for is working at the tour booth today.
There was no signature, and the handwriting differed from the original note.
Why didn’t anyone ever sign their work?
“Why does this seem too good to be true?” Dane asked as he stood beside me.
I flipped the card over and checked the envelope just to be safe. “Why make it so hard? Why not just tell us the name? Like, hey, Colonel Mustard did it in the ballroom with a knife?”
It was weird. But we had to follow the lead.
“Look at this,” I said, handing the card back to Dane. “It’s written on Southern Hospitality Tours stationery.”
It was hard to see at first. The white card wasn’t printed with a large company image, but a small, embossed seal of the logo. It looked high-class. The tour industry must do well in Charleston.
“I guess we’d better check it out,” Dane said. “But from a distance only.”
“Do you think Lonny is the killer?” I asked.
Dane skimmed the note again. “Or he wrote the card. This looks like a man’s writing.”
He held it out for me to see again. It did.
“I need to call in the team,” Dane said, grabbing his phone.
I checked my watch. We’d spent the morning getting to, interviewing, and getting home from Alma’s house. The City Market wasn’t open late in the evening. We had to go now before they closed. Who knew how long that note was on the door waiting for us to find?
We might miss the killer. Then we’d be back at square one.
I scowled as he typed on his phone. Wasting time. “We can’t miss this, Dane. There’s no time.”
“Woman,” Dane said, barely lifting his head from his phone.
While his attention was on his device, I hit the down button for the elevator.
“Princess,” Dane growled. “What are you doing?”
“Dane, we can’t miss this.” Everything we’d worked for could be checking out of work right now, and we’d never find out who killed William.
The elevator doors opened, and I backed through them. “Delaney.”
Should I wave goodbye as the doors closed? That would be iconic.
The doors started their squeaky closure.
He was going to kill me when he caught up with me. Shit. He’d probably run down the stairs and beat me to the lobby.
Fingers slipped through the small opening, and the doors opened. “For real, princess?”
“This is important, Dane. We can’t wait for you to gather a playdate of SEALs.”
