Already Lost (A Laura Frost FBI Suspense Thriller—Book 8) by Blake Pierce

Author:Blake Pierce [Pierce, Blake]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2022-10-03T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Laura almost leapt out of the car as Nate rolled to a stop – until his heavy “No!” stopped her in her tracks.

“What is it?” she asked, glancing around, looking for the hazard that had made him call out to her.

“Let me go first,” Nate said grumpily. He really was overreacting to this whole thing. Laura had been injured a few times in the line of duty – so what? It had never been really serious. And the only reason why it happened was because she cared so much about following her visions and making sure that no one died. She was cautious most of the rest of the time.

Laura let Nate get out of the car with a roll of her eyes and then followed him up to the front door of the small but nicely kept home. There was a neat front yard flowering with rose bushes that appeared to be well-tended, and when Nate knocked, they heard a woman’s voice merrily calling out to tell them she’d only be a moment.

The door opened a moment later as promised, and Laura had to blink. The person who had answered the door was a little old woman, white-haired but dressed immaculately in matching pink clothes and with a cheerful smile on her face.

“Hello, dears,” she said. “What can I do for you?”

“Um, hi,” Laura said, taking over from a completely startled Nate. “We’re looking for a collector of vintage records. His name is Frank or Frankie Davidson.”

“Francesca,” she said, looking between them expectantly. “Do you have a lead on a record for me?”

Laura blinked. She looked up at Nate, who was doing the same.

“Sorry,” she said. “Are you MDColl59?”

“That’s right, dear,” she smiled benevolently. “Now, do you want to come in? I can make you some tea.”

“Sure,” Nate said, though he gave Laura an utterly bewildered look as the woman turned to lead them inside the house.

Laura could only shrug and gesture for him to follow her.

“Now, do you take milk or sugar?” Frankie asked, leading them into a sitting room that was utterly dedicated to records. All four walls were lined, wherever possible, with square shelving units, floor to ceiling. Inside each of those squares were maybe twenty-five or thirty records in their sleeves, and all of them were full.

“Actually, I’d rather talk about the records,” Laura said, sensing a need for a change in subject before they ended up sitting around eating cake and making small talk. “You’re quite the collector, it looks like.”

Frankie looked around and nodded with a small smile of pride. “Yes, I have dedicated an awful lot of time to it,” she said with a kind of girlish grin. “I never married or had children, you see. All of the money I earned in my life is mine to spend on myself. And this is what I do with it.”

Laura’s head was reeling. She took a seat on a sofa that was covered by a knitted blanket with record shapes sewn into it, Nate sitting by her as Frankie arranged herself primly in an armchair.

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