I reluctantly handed the note back.
“You’re not one to talk, mister no social media accounts,” Claire said. “Plus, I like to take initial notes on paper. It makes it feel more serious somehow. I get that.”
“I have a website and stuff now,” Levi mumbled, but nobody acknowledged him.
Claire tilted her head. “I do agree. If I had to guess, it is a young woman, not to generalize, you know, but just the vibe, around my age, maybe younger? And maybe it is someone sick? Maybe someone who’s been sheltered their whole life?”
Claire and I exchanged a worried glance.
“Do you think it’s someone youngish with some sort of terminal disease?” she asked.
I shook my head with a frown.
“Your chest still bothering you? I thought you had the doctor check it out?” Levi interrupted.
I dropped my hand from where it had been circling above my pectoral. “No. It’s fine. Just habit.” Which was true. The thought of the note’s author being terminally ill filled me with extreme and sudden dread.
I had to find them, and I had to find them quickly.
“I don’t know,” I said, looking back at Claire and Levi with seriousness. “I just know this came into my life for a reason. I was the person who found this list. That feels significant. I can help. I have contacts. It was meant to be.”
“I do think you would be good at this,” Claire said.
“Yeah? Figuring out mysteries?” I asked.
I’d been listening to a lot of cozy mysteries on audio. It was part of the reason I started rocking the mustache last year for a while. I fancied myself capable of solving crimes and seeing what nobody else saw. But then I realized how hit-or-miss the ’stache was with the ladies, and after No Shave November, I decided to let it go.
“I was referring to helping people. You are good at that,” she clarified. Levi nodded in agreement.
Warmth from the compliment spread through me.
“I do have a thought on where you might start, if you don’t mind me playing the Watson to your Sherlock,” Levi said.
I tipped my chin in deferential allowance.
“Why don’t you start here?” He grabbed the paper and flipped it over.
Hooks and Grannies Hobby Shop.
“Huh.”I blinked at the paper before snatching it back. I’d spent so long reading the other side, it hadn’t even occurred to me to flip the paper over. My heart thrummed at the sight. There was also a series of seemingly random numbers scrawled quickly in a different handwriting. A locker combo or maybe lucky numbers? But I was less concerned about those.
My first clue!
“It’s a game shop, right?” I asked.
I was vaguely familiar with the shop. I’d been in there a couple of times over the years. I think I went with Jeff and Cole once to get some things to kill time at the firehouse. We also all went through a brief period where we tried our hand at knitting, but it didn’t stick for me. Too much focus, sitting still, math, and counting.
“Among other things,” Levi said.
“So maybe it’s El Kincaid’s? She’s the older woman who runs it. She’s friends with Ruth, Gigi, and Beth,” I said but didn’t feel right about it.
“You’ve had this for a week, and you didn’t notice where it came from?” Claire asked. “Don’t quit your day job.”
Levi had been lost in thought, dark brows a slash of concentration. His “lost in the process” face. Then, as if it had never been there at all, his features cleared, and he spoke.
“You should go and investigate.”
A wave of unexpected nerves passed over me.
