Near Miss

Chapter Four: Threat

The house Sylvie was staring at was a perfect image of what every house in Skybrook should be, if the local homeowners' association was to be believed. It was in the same subdivision as hers, only a few blocks away, but it was infinitely more well-tended. The bushes conformed to an unusually neat row along the edges of the house, the grass had been carefully mowed and watered, and the entire yard remained a healthy shade of green despite the August heat. The path that wound up to the front steps was inviting in comparison to the poorly maintained walkways Sylvie was used to, and the strip of sidewalk edging the street was swept clean, the property boundary immediately evident.

Sylvie lingered near the front door, waiting for Rorie to arrive. She knew the story was going to be hers, but somehow she didn't quite feel comfortable knocking by herself- not if Rorie's evaluations were to be believed.

From what she had heard, the woman who lived in this house was under a significant amount of threat. Rorie didn't know from whom, or why, but it certainly seemed like she was in danger. Although, apparently, Rorie had only just found out about it.

Rorie should be here.

Sylvie didn't quite understand why her friend was so often late, but she was willing to accept that Rorie was probably quite busy. After all, she considered, there must be something important going on besides this. School-related, probably.

Of course. That was it. Rorie was at school.

Sylvie nearly slapped her forehead. She herself was immune to school, so to speak; after graduating in the spring, she'd decided to take a gap year and spend more time working for the Gazette. She'd told most people that she just wanted to save money for college, but for her it was more complicated than that. She liked Skybrook, and she liked working for the Gazette, and she didn't want to abandon that before she'd had the chance to prove herself.

Because, apparently, solving the Hathaway murder hadn't been enough. Not to mention the five local cases she'd solved over the summer, including the vandalism of the real estate office that morning. Pandora still seemed to need more evidence of her capabilities.

Sylvie took a deep breath, reminding herself that she was ready to provide whatever evidence was necessary.

After she'd finished collecting herself, she gave two brisk knocks in the center of the door.

No sooner had her fist left the wood than Sylvie found herself facing an unfamiliar young woman. She wore a solid blue shirt under a loose jacket, the pattern of which seemed to have been modeled after a sheet of plain graph paper. Gold hoops graced her ears, and a small silver heart charm hung on a cord around her neck. Like Sylvie, she wore thin glasses, but hers were a simple plain black. She was smiling expectantly when she opened the door, but when her gaze drifted down to Sylvie, she cocked her eyebrows in confusion. "And you are?"

"Sylvia Stein." She extended her hand, but the woman didn't take it. "I'm with the Gazette."

The woman frowned. "How did you find out?" Her tone was bored and dismissive.

Sylvie understood that rejection was an important part of working in the media, but all the same, she wasn't happy with the way this woman had dismissed her. If this was how she reacted to help, Sylvie wasn't surprised that she was in such apparently terrible danger. Keeping her head held high, Sylvie smiled pleasantly. "I'm not here just for the paper."

The woman's hands moved to her hips in a defensive posture. "And what else would you need?" Sylvie was almost expecting her to make a joke about selling cookies, but thankfully she didn't elaborate.

Sylvie's hand was still extended. "I was responsible for the resolution of the Hathaway murder case this April."

Surprise was evident in the woman's tone, no matter how hard she was trying to hide it. "Were you."