Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 69895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
“And if you don’t relish picking through a graveyard of googly eyes,” Henry offered, “there’s a Michael’s in East River, about twenty-five minutes’ drive from here.”
Bram, who loved to support small business, made a promise to himself that he’d check Miss Miriam’s first, even if he had to contend with googly eyes.
“Can you tell me where the hardware store is?” he asked Rye.
“I’ll escort you,” he said. “I was on my way there anyway.”
“Nice to meet you, fellow new arrival,” Bram told Henry, and Henry extracted a promise that he’d come to the showing that Saturday, assuring Bram that it would help him love movies.
Rye clapped Henry congenially on the back as they left. The second they were out of sight, though, he said, “Henry is the best and that theater is gorgeous. But some of his movies are booooring.” He feigned sleep.
“I’ve never been the biggest movie fan, but I did just move here, so...”
“Oh, I totally get it,” Rye said immediately. “I was the new guy before Henry.”
They turned the corner and crossed the street into the parking lot of a store that looked like it was straight out of a mom-and-pop hardware store catalogue. The sign painted in huge letters on the side of the building said Matheson’s Hardware and Lumber in green Western font, and when they walked in, a bell cheerfully announced their presence.
The man who approached from behind the counter appeared to have been ordered from the same catalogue as the store itself: he was extremely tall and thick—taller than Bram’s own six foot two and broader too. He had a reddish-brown beard and kind eyes, painters’ pants with an actual hammer slung through the hammer loop, and worn brown boots. His apron also said Matheson’s and his name tag said Charlie.
“Hey, darlin’,” Charlie said to Rye, and clapped a huge hand over the other man’s shoulder.
Rye lifted his chin and smiled a private smile. Then his edges fell back into place and he turned back to Bram.
“Charlie, this is Bram and Hemlock. Bram just moved here.”
“To Garnet Run?” Charlie inquired, voice a warm rumble.
“I know, right? What’s up? Did some lonely gay make a deal with the devil to bring all these hotties to town or what?”
Charlie coughed to cover a laugh and held his hand out for Hem to smell.
“From Washington State?” he asked.
Rye’s eyes went wide, then he frowned.
“Who told you? Was it Clive? I really thought I had one up on you this time cuz I literally just ran into him on the street.”
“I didn’t hear from anyone,” Charlie said. “But Hemlock is the state tree of Washington, and—” he turned to Bram “—you look like a tree man.”
“A lumbersexual, you mean,” Rye muttered completely audibly.
Bram explained about Casper Road and the Halloween decorations he hoped to create.
“You’ll really have to something spectacular if you want to stand a chance at winning,” Charlie explained. “The same person has won for the last six years.”
Bram didn’t have to ask who it was. He’d already met the prickly, formal, vaguely unfriendly winner in the flesh.
“Zachary Glass.”
Chapter Four
Zachary
It had been a week since the new guy moved in. He was an early riser—even earlier than Zachary. By the time Zachary went to pick up the mail at 7:30, he was there. Sitting on the porch whittling as that damn dog snoozed on the steps like jelly poured down the stairs.
And every morning, he raised a hand in welcome as Zachary opened his front door.
Listen, Zachary wasn’t antisocial. He liked people! Sometimes. But not when they were always there, in the place where he was used to carrying out his routines in peace.
Fine, other people on the street were awake at that time, and sometimes they even said hello. But this was different, because...well, it just was. Those people weren’t distracting like Bram. They didn’t stick in Zachary’s mind like gum in the hair, until excision was necessary. And they didn’t look at him like Bram did. In fact, he was noticing that no one had ever looked at him quite like Bram did...
But that wasn’t the point. The point was...um...
“Morning,” Bram said easily, raising a gloved hand.
Zachary walked deliberately to the mailbox.
“Hello.”
Bram rose from his stoop, placed a calming hand on the dog’s head, and crossed the street to Zachary.
“So, there is a mystery on Casper Road. It’s been eating at me and you’re just the person to solve it.”
“I am?”
Zachary did love mysteries.
“Yeah. Who is the woman at the end of the street and what is up with those piles of rocks and sticks? I walked by the other day and I couldn’t tell if it was modern art or something out of that Blair Witch movie. That was a horror movie, right?”
Zachary snorted but couldn’t help leaning in, delighted.
“Right? That’s Mrs. Lundy. She does them every year for the contest, but, like, would she be doing them anyway? Maybe she lived here and made them for twenty years before the decorating contest began? She’s been in that house since the seventies.”