Page 23 of The House on Forgotten Hill

“Be friends first?”

I nodded. “Is it that obvious?”

“I had a feeling you were the kind of woman who likes taking things slow.”

He didn’t seem disappointed by that fact.

If anything, he sounded intrigued.

“I don’t mind a challenge,” he said. “In the end, I always get what I want.”

I took a step back. “So you say. It’s been a great night, but I should go.”

“So soon?”

“I have a contractor coming by in the morning.”

“Oh, come on. Why not just text the guy and tell him to come over a bit later? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

“Maybe not, but I have a lot for him to do tomorrow.”

“I’m disappointed, but I understand.”

He walked me to the front door and opened it. Outside, the night air felt cooler than it had a couple hours before. I ran my hands up and down my arms and said, “Thank you for dinner.”

“Thank you for allowing me the presence of your company.”

I started down the walkway, then stopped and turned back, emboldened by a sudden surge of confidence. “What do you think happened to her?”

“Who?”

“Estelle’s daughter.”

“How should I know?”

“I may not have lived here long, but it seems like this neighborhood has its share of secrets.”

“Like I said before, someone telling you a story doesn’t always make it true. I’d be careful.”

“Why?”

He slipped his hands into his pockets. “Sometimes secrets stay buried for a reason.”

For a moment I stood there, taking in his words of warning. Then I crossed the lawn in front of my house. I unlocked the door, glancing over my shoulder before stepping inside.

Preston was still standing on the porch, watching me.

Not waving.

Not moving.

Just watching.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that the game we’d started over dinner had changed. I had gone looking for answers, and instead, I had given Preston something to think about.

And that worried me far more than I cared to admit.

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