CHAPTER FOURTEEN
After lunch, I drove by Zoe Weiss’ house—a simple country rambler with yellow siding. A concrete path led to the front stoop. I parked on the street, took the path to the door and rang the bell. I scanned the neighborhood. It looked like any nice neighborhood. Quiet, with well-tended houses and lawns, but nobody home. Or no one outside, anyway. I knocked on the door.
After what seemed like an eternity, I knocked again. The seconds crept by, expanding into minutes. Either no one was home, or Zoe wasn’t answering.
I gave up and walked back to my car. Sliding behind the wheel, I took a look in the file and fished out the membership list. As it happened, another member named Odessa Jones lived right down the street. I punched her number in on my cell.
On the third ring, a woman answered, “Hello.”
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Paperback Writer to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.