B.J. Daniels - Mountain Sheriff

“What kind of paperwork did you get her to fill out before you rented her the bungalow?” Mitch asked, hoping for a clue as to Nina Monroe’s life before she showed up here.

“None, other than her name,” Florie said with a shake of her head. “I just go by whatever vibe I pick up.”

“Vibes, instead of a former address or references?” he asked, unable to hide his disbelief.

“I’ll have you know vibes are much more reliable than references.”

He sighed. “But you told me her vibes were bad.”

Florie flushed. “Actually, no, I said they were weird. I remember thinking she was awfully nervous. From her aura I could tell she had man trouble. But with women that’s usually the case, isn’t it?”

“But you rented to her, anyway?”

“She had cash,” Florie said with an embarrassed shrug.

He counted to ten. “She get any phone calls while she was here?”

“Just one. From some woman. Sounded old. Maybe her mother, or grandmother. Nina didn’t want to the take the call but finally did. I heard a little of it. Nina said, ‘How did you find me? I told you to leave me alone.’ She paused, then said, ‘Right, you’re worried about me. That’s a laugh. Don’t call here again. You’re just going to mess things up.”’

Not bad for hearing only a “little” of a one-sided conversation. “The woman ever call again?”

Florie shook her head. “And before you ask, the number was blocked. You know, on my caller ID. I only checked because I didn’t like the vibes I got from the caller. Just like what I’m picking up now about Nina. Worse vibes than before, you know?”

He knew, thinking of the missing woman and the baby spoon in his pocket.

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