Hour of the Moon

Chapter 14: Illusions

What seemed like a fifteen-minute ride was close to half an hour in the city of Waynesville, west of Cherokee.

Coroner Felicia Stiggs retired from her position a little over a year ago, so I hope that the information that's provided from Wohali's death would bring more clues to the investigation.

"So, nothing else happened between you and Ahiga?" I had spilled the details of my weekend date with Amanda, who had been gushing about the whole ordeal.

" Unfortunately, no. I started to get a weird headache and then he drove me home afterward."

Amanda sighed.

I could still feel Ahiga's lips upon me, the way he danced with me.

" But, he actually stopped by a day later to check up on me."

" Oh?" Amanda quirked an eyebrow, her eyes on the road but they were lit with excitement.

" He had brought over some painkillers and some soup."

" Did he stay?"

" He didn't, but he actually asked to take me out again."

" And you said yes for sure?"

" I did."

" But you sound unsure. What is your hesitation?"

I couldn't tell her the real reasons and it had nothing to do with Ahiga but everything to do with Waya. A man that was emotionally and physically unattainable.

Yet I couldn't get him out of my mind.

Everywhere I went I always felt his penetrative gaze lingering, probing, searching.

Or maybe...

" In a quarter mile, turn right on Bell-view drive," The monotonous male voice on the GPS boldly stated, and I was brought out of my thoughts.

"Keiran, it's fine. I get your hesitation and know your intuition will lead you to do what you need to."

" I can't help but think what my intuition is leading me to, especially since coming here."

" My grandmother Ruby always used to say no matter how much the truth is buried, it will always spring to life."

" You arrived at your destination," The GPS navigator informed us.

Amanda pulled into the driveway of a two-story Georgian-styled home, which looked like it was constructed in a rectangular style that was elongated.  The house was a pewter grey with white trimming with a covered front porch.

" This is a typical North Carolina-style house. I reckon this Coroner has some money."

Amanda glanced up to the sky, a frown tugging at the corners of her mouth.

" The forecast says it may or may not rain. How long do you think we'll be here?"

" Hopefully we can get the answers we need in time. I'm sure Savannah wouldn't mind us coming in a little late."

On the first ring of the doorbell, a thin and tall woman came to the door.

She was well into her mid-forties, dressed in a simple button-down blue dress shirt and denim jeans.

Her hair was a dark chestnut color, more brown than black, and was bluntly cut and closely cropped to her head.

" You must be the reporters I spoke to last week! it's nice to meet you." She glanced between Amanda and me, a welcoming smile spread upon her thin lips.

She had a slight accent but it didn't sound southerner and had more of a New England lilt.

We entered her house and had eclectic shades of reds and blues painted along the walls adorned with artwork ranging from Africa to Asia to the New Americas.