Deadly Row, A - By Casey Mayes Page 0,37

copier to miss.

I walked to the machine, set the darkness to its fullest setting, and then made another copy of the original.

Faint, but clearly there, I saw a letter and number sequence on the paper as if I’d willed it to be there.

5E.

It was our missing letter.

But I still didn’t know what it meant.

Chapter 10

“SAVANNAH, YOU’RE A HARD WOMAN TO TRACK DOWN.”

I’d gone back to my hotel, enjoyed a long and hot shower under those lustrous jets of water, and I was waiting on my room service order to arrive when my phone rang.

“Uncle Thomas, how are you?” My uncle, my mother’s little brother, was all the family I had left besides my husband and his clan. He lived in Hickory, about an hour and a half drive from Charlotte, and oddly enough, about the same distance from Parson’s Valley, the central point of two ends of a line.

“I’m better, now that I know you’re safe. Don’t you ever check the messages on that answering machine of yours?”

“We haven’t been home the past couple of days. What’s up?”

“I was wondering if you might be coming this way anytime soon. There’s something I need to discuss with you.”

I didn’t admit that we’d passed the Hickory exits off I-40 just the day before, and though I’d thought of him briefly as we’d driven past, there had been no time to stop.

“Is something wrong?”

“It’s nothing, really. It can wait until we see each other again.”

I knew my uncle wouldn’t have kept calling unless it was important. He avoided every bit of modern technology he could, and for him to call me on my cell phone number, I realized that it was likely more important than he was letting on. “Come on, don’t try to kid a kidder. What’s happening?”

“I went to the doctor the other day,” he said, and a wave of dread raced through me. I couldn’t bear losing my uncle. He was the last real tie I had to my family, at least as far as I knew. My mother’s only other brother, Jeffrey, had left North Carolina the day he’d turned eighteen, and no one had heard from him since. There had been rumors that he’d gotten rich, but just as many that he was in prison serving a life sentence. As far as I was concerned, Uncle Thomas was all I had left.

“It’s nothing, but I realized that I’m starting to get older, and there are a few things that need to be settled now.”

“Is it serious?”

“I just told you, it’s nothing. But every now and then, a man has to take stock of his life, and there are a few things I need to get off my chest.” He sighed deeply, and then added, “I’m probably just being a silly old fool. Forget I said anything.”

“Honestly, I was thinking about driving over to see you sometime soon. We’re in Charlotte right now.”

“You didn’t move back there, did you? I love your place in Parson’s Valley. It suits you, Savannah.”

“Don’t worry, we’re just visiting. Actually, Zach’s working on a case.”

“He’s still freelancing, is he? They just can’t seem to let him go.”

“What can I say, my husband’s good at what he does.” I glanced at the clock. It was just after seven, and though the shower had helped some, I was still tired from my mental exercises all day, but I couldn’t let that stop me. “Let me get dressed, and I can be there in an hour and a half.”

“Hang on, I didn’t mean you had to come tonight.”

“I don’t mind. Honestly. You’re not going to bed anytime soon, are you?”

He chuckled. “I don’t sleep much more than six or seven hours a night. I put it off as long as I can, usually.”

“Then I’m coming right now,” I said.

“Take it easy. There’s no hurry.”

“It will be fun,” I said when there was a knock on the door. I’d forgotten all about my dinner. “Hang on one second.”

I opened the door without quizzing the hotel employee as Zach had done, and I was certain he would have disapproved, but I found it awkward to do. The same man who’d delivered food to us the night before smiled briefly as I let him in, and after he was gone, I returned to the phone. “Sorry about that.”

“Is Zach there? Do you need to go?”

“No, it was just room service,” I admitted.

“Then eat your dinner, and get some rest. It would be foolish to drive up here at night.”

“It’s summer;