Page 5 of Little Hidden Fears

“Hmm, might be best to give you an example. One time we were at a Brazilian steakhouse for lunch. It had been a while since the waiter had returned to the table, and I was after another glass of wine, so I got up to find him. I saw him at the front, chatting with the hostess. On my way over to him, I bumped into a woman, carrying a plate of food back to her table. The food flew off her plate, and it went everywhere. I turned to apologize to the woman, and before I could get any words out, she raised her voice, scolding me, using just about every expletive in the book.”

“What did Noelle do?”

“She raced over, standing in front of me like a shield. She looked at the woman and said if she uttered another word to me, she’d take the exchange outside.”

“Outsideas in, she threatened to fight her?”

“Uhh, I mean, I feel likethreatenedis a bit harsh. She was being protective, that’s all. When a person is in Noelle’s inner circle, she has their back for life.”

Maybe so, but a threat was a threat.

“What did the woman do after Noelle stood up for you?” I asked.

“She rolled her eyes, swished a hand in my direction, and walked off without saying another word.”

“Sounds like Noelle shut her down.”

Zoey let out a small laugh. “She sure did.”

“Before she died, was there anyone she was feuding with ... anyone you feel might have had a motive to kill her?”

“I don’t know of anyone. Everything was going well in her life before she died. Her marriage was great, and they were talking about trying for another baby.”

“Well, someone had it out for her.”

“Someone did, which brings me to the reason I’d like to hire you. For one, I’d like to know what’s going on in the police investigation. And for two ... well, I’ve heard if the police can’t find the person responsible for her murder, you can.”

“I can, and I will.”

Noelle’s life was good.

Her marriage was good.

But something in her life wasn’t.

And I was determined to find out what.

CHAPTER 3

Twisted Sister’s “We’re Not Gonna Take It” was blasting through the speakers when I entered the county coroner’s office. It didn’t take long for me to spot Silas, his hands in full air-guitar mode as he played along to the tune. Today he was dressed in his usual style—a Hawaiian shirt, linen slacks, and flip-flops. As the song’s chorus bellowed in the background, he did a swift kick in the air and spun around, his eyes widening when he spotted me standing there, watching. Startled, he froze. Then he reached for a remote control and paused the music.

“I ... ahh, hey, Georgiana,” he said. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough. Looks like you’re having a fun day at work.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I’m on my lunch break, thought I’d blow off some steam.”

Silas was one of the most laid-back, happy people I knew, making his comment about blowing off steam surprising.

“Is everything all right?” I asked.

“Wish I could say it was, but no, it’s not. I kinda made a mess of things with Lana last night.”

Silas and Lana had started dating several months before, and his relationship with her was one of the longest he’d ever had.

“What happened?” I asked.

“She broke up with me.”

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