A search of Sharon Lamber’s home revealed that the woman was neat and meticulous with organized drawers and clean sheets. There were two pictures of her during her wedding ceremony on the cruise, and other than that, there was no sign that she was married. No men’s clothing in the closet or shoes in the rack by the door. She had a small greenhouse off the main house with some flowers and many spices and plants.

No dahlias.

Laurel returned to Huck’s truck and texted Nester. “It looks like Sharon lived here alone and Morris had already moved out. We need to ascertain where he’s living.”

Aeneas sneezed from his warm crate in the back seat.

Huck looked up at the darkened clouds. “There’s a storm moving in, and the community college is closed, so how about we search her office on Monday and also catch Morris at work?” He glanced at his watch. “We haven’t eaten all day, and I’m meeting a . . . well . . . friend for dinner.”

Friend? He’d said that in an odd way. “All right. Just drop me off at the office, and we can meet up first thing Monday.” She fastened her seatbelt and had Siri find a number for her.

Huck shifted his weight on his seat and started the engine. Heat instantly blew from the vents.

Laurel lifted the phone to her ear just as a chipper voice answered, “Greenfield Architecture and Landscaping, this is Haylee.”

“Hi. This is Laurel Snow, and I’m interested in converting an old barn into a home. Your business has been recommended to me.” She tapped her fingers on her leg.

“Oh. We don’t usually have architecture calls during the winter, but it’s smart to get ahead on drawing up plans. Let’s see. How about you give me the address, and we can see you as early as tomorrow, if you’d like.” Papers rustled. “Go ahead and let me know what time you’d like to meet up. We prefer to see the site before sitting down and discussing plans.”

Laurel rattled off the address. The company must be looking for work if they were willing to meet on a Sunday. Good. She’d love to have the place ready by spring, either for herself or to rent. “I am free around noon.”

“Sounds good. See you then.” Haylee ended the call.

Excellent. Laurel could already see the dimensions of a potential home office in her head.

Huck drove through the rapidly darkening day as the purplish clouds rolled over the mountains and covered them. “That was odd.”

Laurel set her phone in her pocket. “How so?”

“You. I figured you’d want to interview five architecture firms, pare them down to three, and then make a decision based on house plans.”