Page 82 of Hidden Truths

“It’s not teasing, it’s foreplay,” she says with a smile so blinding I almost drop to my knees.

Fuck. I love her. I love every single thing about her. I love the way she teases me, the way she looks at me, the way she loves me.

The elevator door opens, letting the party off and leaving us alone.

“Do something wild with me?” I ask Harlow.

She looks at me, her head cocked to the side. “Okay.”

I hit the button for the lobby and wait patiently to take Harlow on the adventure of her life.

thirty-two

HARLOW

“I thinkthis one has a lot of potential.”

Jo and I have been sorting through the emails and sending ones we think might lead somewhere to my dad. This one in particular is standing out to me.

Hello,

My name is Joseph Pitts III, and I live in Green Peak, New Hampshire. We’re a small town that borders Vermont. I’m writing to you today because I believe I have seen the man you are looking for. I own the general store in town. It’s been in my family for over a hundred years. I took over from my father when he retired in 1976.

A young man came through here almost seven years ago. He looks similar to that man in the band from Maine. The one that plays the guitar. Blue eyes, not brown. He was very scared and asked about a job. I gave him a job in my store. He even became friends with a local boy before they both moved somewhere together. The gossip around town was that they were an item, but Ihave it on good authority that the local boy, I can’t remember his name, likes women almost too much if you get my meaning.

But that boy, I will never forget his scared face. I do believe he is your guitar friend. From the gossip rags the ladies’ group loves to chat about, I see you are dating the young man that is the singer. If you might pass on my message and ask him to get in touch with me, I would much appreciate it. I have wondered how he is doing, and I do hope he is happy and well.

Warm Regards,

Joseph Pitts III

“That was a lot,” Jo says after she reads it. “I can almost picture an old man typing this with one finger.”

I laugh because I was picturing the same thing as I read it. “I think we should check it out.”

Jo nods. “We have six weeks left on the road. Think it can wait until we’re done?”

“I think it will have to,” I tell her. I don’t want to leave Cal or Cora, and I don’t think he’s going to want to be away from her if I take her with me.

“He left his number at the end of the email. Maybe we can call first and see what we can get from him before we head to the woods of New Hampshire to talk to the town.”

“Good idea.” I forward the email to my dad as Jo dials Joseph Pitts III.

“Thank you for calling Green Peak General Store, home of Peaky Buns.”

Peaky Buns?Jo mouths and I just shrug.

“Hi, could I speak with Joseph, please?” I ask the girl on the phone.

“Can I ask who is calling?” she asks, her voice switching from sweet to something that sounds almost like she’s about to fight us.

“My name is Harlow. Joseph sent us an email regarding my podcast. I was hoping to speak to him about it,” I tell her.

She lets out a breath. “I’m sorry about that. My grandfather isn’t in his right mind. Whatever he sent you isn’t true. I’m sorry he wasted your time.”

“If I could just —” I start to ask, but she hangs up on me.

“Well, that was suspicious,” Jo says.

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