Page 21 of The Familiar Stranger

“You did.”

I chewed on my bottom lip while I thought about it. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. I think it’s a man, though I hadn’t realized it until you pointed it out. I was shoving all that to the back of my mind, not wanting to think I’d put anyone in danger. In most of my murder investigations, the murderer was a man.”

Maddie shook her head. “Not true. What about Florida with my nephew? What about in New Orleans with that woman who ran the addiction house, before you bought it, and it became Helping Hands? What about in Tennessee …”

I held up a hand. “I get it.”

“So …?”

“I don’t know. It just feels like a man to me.”

“Okay, then,” she said with a clap of her hand. “Look, I’m about to pass out from lack of food. And I wouldn’t be opposed to a stiff drink or two. Besides, it is our last day here.”

With everything that was going on, I’d forgotten we’d be going our separate ways tomorrow. “Alta Vista again?”

“There’s another restaurant in here, Bennie’s Tavern. We haven’t been there yet, so let’s check it out. A change of scenery will refresh our minds too—if we don’t overdo the cocktails.”

I shot her a pointed look.

Maddie snickered. “No way you’re putting limits on me.”

“I’d be shocked if you allowed it.”

We slid on our jeans, sweaters, and boots, and left the room, preparing to hit the restaurant, where I was determined to do another deep dive into the mysterious letter.

CHAPTER16

We found a private table—not many patrons in the after-dinner hour, which suited us just fine. We placed our drink order, choosing one of the North Carolina brewed ales for starters. Bennie’s was known for its creative drink menu—a mashup of clever cocktails made with local ingredients and regional spirits, or so the advertising claimed. We agreed to try a small-batch bourbon after we ate. When the beer arrived, we placed our dinner orders. Maddie lit up over the skillet cornbread, which came with smoked sea-salt butter and a drizzle of syrup. We both went with the poached pear and arugula salad as our main—topped with toasted pecans and a generous scoop of goat cheese from a nearby farm.

Maddie raised a glass, and we clinked mugs.

“Cheers to us,” she said.

Then she pulled out a copy of the threatening message from her pocket. “While we wait on the food, let’s break this sucker down.” She spread it out on the table so we could both see it, then read it out loud. “Continue this path and death is nigh. Please to avoid friends of PI.”

I had my eyes on not only the words, but also the way the message was punctuated and spaced.

Continue this path & death is nigh;

Please to avoid,

Friends of PI.

“First of all, let’s drill down on thepath,” I said, pointing at the word. “Assuming this note was meant for Harmony, and I think we should just go with that assumption for now, what is she doing that her attacker wants her to stop doing?”

“My first guess would be hanging out with us. Or you.” Maddie winced. “Sorry.”

“As much as I wish it wasn’t the case, it’s plausible. But I don’t want to overlook the idea that the wordPIwas just thrown in there for effect. I’ll get to that in a minute. My point is, maybe she was on a path toward self-destruction. Smoked too much. Made poor decisions. Maybe she acted all sunshine-y but was battling past traumas or depression, and she wasn’t taking care of her mental health.”

“Who leaves a note like that and then whacks a person over the head?”

“The note and the attack could have been two separate situations.”

“Situations like …”

“A burglar who was caught in the act.”

“Gotcha, gotcha, “Maddie said. “So she’s on a dangerous path of some sort that could lead to her death.”

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