Page 11 of A Love Like Candle Light

Both come up with no results.

“Okay, I’ll make my way out there,” I declare and get back up, groaning when pain shoots through my shoulder. One of the cows bumped it while running past us. By tomorrow it will probably turn all kinds of nasty colors. “I guess that means you can call in the professionals. Please and thank you.”

I grab my keys and walk back into her tiny reception area. She glances up at me from her always chaotic yet highly organized desk behind the counter. Her long gray hair is in a loose bun that would look casual if there was even a single hair out of place. Her way-too-small glasses are perched at the tip of her nose, and she crosses her baby-blue-knitted-cardigan-clad arms in front of her chest.

“Are you sure?” She gives me a pointed look and taps her freshly manicured nails on her wooden desk. And I know they are, because she told her best friend on the phone yesterday when, as so often, we had a slow day. “I mean, it’s that Kieran guy.”

I arch my eyebrows and stop, slowly tilting my head to her. “Meaning what?”

“It’s just...” She stammers and waves her hand through the air. “All those tattoos and—”

“Jodie.” I turn around and put my crossed arms on her counter. “Kieran’s got a smart head on his shoulders. He might be what your generation calls frivolous or dubious or whatever.” Her face darkens. “But why the hell would he lie about finding human bones?” Honestly, I find it just crazy enough to be true. “Call in the pro’s. Evidence collection, forensic identification, recovery team.”

“I wouldn’t even know who to call.” Her eyes widen, as if she’s actually offended by having to work for once, even with two more hours on the clock.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” I tap my hand against the countertop, hoping I won’t lodge another splinter into my palm. “It will take a few hours until they’re here, so I’ll drive out, if they’ll even make it today. I’m off to check out what exactly we’re dealing with.”

“Okay.” She shrugs, clearly not believing anything out of place is actually going on.

“Call them,” I reiterate. I love Jodie, she’s a sweetheart, but as so many people of her generation, she tends to have a hard time taking me seriously. She rolls her eyes, but picks up the phone and her fingers fly over the keyboard again.

I don’t know Kieran super well. He has lived in Wayward Hollow for what must be a year and a half by now, but our paths don’t really cross aside from Caleb's, the one and only place to get great coffee in Wayward Hollow.

If you can even call it ‘path crossing.’ He gets his coffee, I get mine, and sometimes we exchange small pleasantries. And I get to pet his dog. That is about the extent of it.

From our limited interactions, he doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who’d prank-call a police station for shits and giggles. And I pride myself on my intuition about people.

I’m about to turn into Kieran’s driveway when I remember Jodie mentioning, they didn’t find the bones on his property, but his neighbor’s.

Fascinating. When did the fourth property at the lake even get sold? And the even bigger question, how did that not make it into the town gossip? With a bored Jodie at the front desk, I’m usually very aware of Wayward Hollow news and gossip.

As soon as I jump out of the car, I hear Kieran’s voice. “Over here!”

I acknowledge him with a nod, but before I walk over to him, I grab a backpack with a bunch of probably outdated tools out of my truck. Two figures hover beside the mansion, one of them Kieran, the other must be the new owner.

It’s a beautiful house with more of a luxurious cabin vibe. The exterior walls I can see have a wooden log design, though I suspect much like the other houses, it will have a glass front facing the lake. Out of the four houses, it’s the most regular looking. Nic’s, Lauren’s and Kieran’s houses definitely wear the ‘mansion’ tag with pride. This one too, it merely pretends to be affordable. But most of Wayward Hollow, and that includes me, have seen the price tag.

I wonder what kind of person moved into it. By the time I have my bag, the second figure disappeared around the building and only Kieran is left to greet me.

“Hey, man.” I greet Kieran and shake his outstretched hand, subtly shrugging off his other hand he put on my shoulder.

“Erik! I’ve never been happier to see your face.” He grins, not at all deterred by it.

“Can’t imagine why,” I say dryly and let him lead me around the house. The wind is picking up and sends wet leaves flying all over the ground.

The second figure comes into sight and my breath catches in my throat.

“Erik, this is Kylie, finder of the corpse,” Kieran explains, and I hear him as if through a wall of cotton.

She’s the new owner? I mean she has to be; I haven’t seen her in Wayward Hollow before. She looks around mine and Kieran’s age. Chocolate-brown hair falls down her shoulders, a round face framed by bangs and she’s drowning in an oversized beige sweatshirt under an open jacket that looks way too flimsy for this time of the year.

“She just moved in.” Kieran’s voice pulls me back to reality.

“Good to meet you,” I say quickly, feeling his amused stare burning into my temple and extend my hand. “I’m Erik Madden.” The most striking blue eyes meet mine and push the air out of my lungs.

Damn. She’s gorgeous.

“Likewise,” she mumbles and blushes as she shakes my hand. It suits her. Her hand is soft and small in mine, but her grip is firm.