Page 219 of Taken Away

He wasn't angry anymore; he looked genuinely rattled. He turned his eyes to Aubrey, the defensive friction of their argument completely replaced by a cold, protective dread.

"They didn't come in through the main entrance, Aubrey," Bennett said, his voice tight. "They had a key to the side lock, or they knew exactly how to bypass the broken latch on the fire door.”

"Whoever that was..." His gaze locked on hers. "They came here for a reason."

A beat passed.

"And they were watching us."

FORTY-FIVE

Friday Morning

Cullowhee

Old River Road narrowed to two cracked lanes before giving way to gravel.

Burke eased his truck beneath a canopy of towering maples and followed the winding drive until a white cottage came into view.

A wraparound porch stretched across the front, shaded by climbing roses that had long since claimed the railings. A porch swing moved lazily in the mountain breeze. Hydrangeas bloomed in every shade of blue imaginable.

The place looked peaceful.

Burke shut off the engine and glanced at the planner resting beside him.

Tea with Patsy.

Lunch with Patsy.

Church with Patsy.

The name appeared as often as Eleanor Harper's.

Before he reached the porch, the front door opened.

A tall woman stepped outside.

She wore white linen slacks, a pale blue blouse, and pearls.

Her face brightened.

"You must be Sheriff Scott."

Burke removed his sunglasses.

"Yes, ma'am."

"I'm Patsy Jordan."

"I appreciate you seeing me."

She waved a hand. "Come on in. Coffee's on."

Burke smiled.

The aroma of fresh coffee and something baking drifted through the cottage.

His eyes wandered to a hallway lined with photographs.