A Stranger in Wynnedower by Grace Greene Read Free Book Online

told you. Likely it was an
oversight on his part, but I have to respect his right to privacy. I will let
him know of your concern when he returns or if he contacts me. Again, I’m
sorry.”
    “Thank you. I
appreciate your help. Do you mind if I keep in touch? Here’s my number. If
there’s anything else you can tell me, please call.”
    Rachel pushed past the
glass doors and walked to the car. She rested her head against the seat back
and sat in silence. It felt like giving up.
    So, Jeremy was on
leave. A trip? For how long?
    And with whom? Her
heart sank.
    He knew she was
planning to visit, but not for another couple of weeks. If he hadn’t gotten her
voicemails, he couldn’t know she’d moved her plans up.
    How long could she hang
around waiting? There was the interview with Mr. Ballew, but she could drive
back for that. She’d taken two weeks of vacation time to spend with Jeremy,
intending to stay at Jeremy’s place—Wynnedower. He’d said the house was empty.
Now, he wasn’t there and it certainly wasn’t empty.
    She preferred to stay
in the area.
    A hotel would break the
budget.
    There was a room
available at Wynnedower.
    Ridiculous.
    Well, she wasn’t done
in Richmond yet, anyway. She’d passed a hospital on her way in. Silly of her
not to have thought to check the hospitals. After that, she’d visit the
authorities, but she had to face facts, including the reality that Jack Wynne
and John Brooks were probably right.
    ****
    The police weren’t very
helpful, but at least the folks at the hospitals would talk to them. Not so
with her. Turned out she couldn’t just stop at the desk and get info about recent
admissions, unknown or otherwise. The good news was there were no recent John
Does.
    She was driving the
dusty road back to Wynnedower. Jack had been friendlier this morning. Probably
because she was leaving, but still…hadn’t he bribed the tow truck driver with a
casserole to help her out?
    In her head, she heard
Daisy saying that life was about choices and options. Rachel might have only a
few options, but it was still her choice to make.
    Wynnedower’s wrought
iron gates were permanently propped open because otherwise they’d fall down.
Here she was, back again. Like in those scary haunted house movies where the
gates, once passed, never allowed an exit.
    An iron-clad memory and
vivid imagination could be a curse. In this case, she didn’t worry. In fact,
she laughed. Jack Wynne would tolerate no haunts and no vandals. He’d bring
those thick, dark brows together and exorcise them instantly. She liked that—no
distractions, no hemming and hawing.
    A mystery, too. Both
the man and the house.
    The house and grounds
looked as deserted as before. Rachel parked a short distance from the house,
but not as close as yesterday. Even in daylight, she didn’t want to be near the
ground level floor and that dark area behind the bushes.
    The front door was
unlocked. She found him in the kitchen, leaning into the fridge, one hand
clasping the top of the door. When he stepped back, a pickle jar in his hand,
he saw her.
    “You’re back.”
    Not an encouraging
welcome. “I need to speak with you. I hope this is a good time.”
    He went straight to the
counter and unscrewed the lid. Tossing it aside amid the usual sandwich
preparation litter, he used a knifepoint to skewer a pickle. “You went to his
workplace?”
    “How did you know?”
    “Not hard to figure.
Judging by your expression, I’d say you didn’t find him, but you also don’t
look as worried as before, so they must have been able to give you some
information.”
    She was stunned he’d
read her face so easily.
    “Have you had lunch?
There’s bologna.” He picked up his sandwich and his cup of coffee and settled
at the table.
    “Help yourself if you
want a sandwich or coffee. It’s still hot.”
    “Thanks, no.” She
watched him turn away, regretting the ‘no.’ A companionable approach could be
very helpful. “Coffee would be