Page 67 of Postmarked December

“Your case is pretty thin, I’d think, but you can always threaten it. Maybe he’ll give you more information about the book if you send him a legal letter. I can whip one up on my letterhead.”

“Thanks, Anthony. I’ll hold off for now, but that’s good to know.”

“No problem. I’ll give you back to Marion now.”

The phone went off speaker and Marion returned.

“The knock at the door was a florist delivery. He just sent me an incredible bouquet of roses and said he’d explain. Maybe he’s ready to talk.”

“Call him,” Marion said. “It’s worth a shot.”

“I think I’m going to find the number for Stargate Publishing, too. If they’re not all home for the holidays, I’ll see if they can give me any new information about the person who called them for the copyright information. Maybe someone there has insight into what might be in the book.”

“Let me know if you need me.”

“Okay, thanks. I’ll keep you posted.”

She ended the call and immediately dialed Alice Beckmeyer at Stargate Publishing. To her disbelief, she got through to her. They said their hellos.

“It’s been a long time. How are you, Heather?” Alice asked.

“I’m good,” she lied for brevity. “I’m surprised to find you in the office between Christmas and New Year’s.”

“It’s the quietest time to work. I actually get ahead,” Alice said. “What’s up?”

“You called a while back because you had a request for release of information from someone who was writing something about Toby.”

“Oh yes. I remember,” Alice said.

“Do you have the name of the person who called?”

“Let me look. Hang on just a second.”

After a few minutes, she came back.

“It was a Mr. Nicholas Monroe. He wanted to double-check permission for a line of lyrics.”

Hearing Nick’s name on Alice’s tongue made Heather’s skin crawl. Her shoulders fell. “Okay, thank you.”

“Did you want me to give him access to any records?”

“No, I think he has what he needs now.”

“Let me know if there’s anything else we can do. And congratulations on Toby’s number one this season. We’re all really excited.”

“Thank you.” She got off the phone and tapped her fingers on the desk. She’d been hoping to get the name of the donor, but he or she clearly wanted to be completely unknown. The only person who had any answers, apparently, was Nick. She considered calling him to ask more about the lyrics and why he needed them, but after everything that had transpired, she couldn’t believe a word he said anyway.

Unsure what to do now, she left her desk and went back to bed.

That evening, there was another knock on the door. With a twinge of anxiety, Heather pulled herself out of bed and checked the peephole.

Marion.

With relief, she opened the door.

“Yep. That’s exactly what I thought.” Marion brushed past her into the apartment, carrying the cooler full of refrigerator items from the cabin.

Heather closed the door and followed her to the kitchen. “What did you think?”