Page 21 of Between the Lines

Beau snuffled softly. Blaise reached down and picked him up, smooching his head. “Something good might be happening, Beau baby.”

He tried to lick her face but she dodged in time. She laughed. “Okay,” she said, more to herself than to him. “Time to get back to work.”

She gave him another kiss, then took her laptop to the couch. She looked at the manuscript, read over the last few paragraphs, and put her fingers on the keyboard.

This time, the story didn’t feel quite so hard to tell.

Chapter Eight

Cece had the audio timeline stretched across her screen, waveforms stacked neatly like rows of stitching. She nudged the cursor back a few seconds and listened again, head tilted, one earphone pulled slightly back so she could hear other sounds, just in case.

Her voice came through in a calm, steady way. Probably not as perfect as it could be, but it sounded honest. And real. She trimmed a bit of dead air, then stopped and listened from the top.

The intro with Joe’s music behind it faded in exactly where she wanted it to. That was good. Really good. Better than she could have done buying a piece of stock music. She’d given him credit in her outro, too.

Cece smiled and made a note to thank him again. He’d written the theme without fuss, and handed it over like it was no big deal. He was such a good man.

She adjusted the outro next, shortening her final line so it didn’t ramble. Journalism habits died hard. Say what you mean. Don’t waste time.

When the episode ended, Cece sat back and rubbed her eyes. The podcast sounded really good to her. She was happy. She’d still listen to it a few more times and, undoubtedly, tweak it a few more times, but it was close to being as perfect as she could hope for.

As first episodes went, it was something to be proud of.

She was about to get up and get a drink when Peanut hopped into her lap and shoved her head against Cece’s chin, forcing her to back up. She couldn’t even reach her phone, which sat face-up on the desk.

As Cece petted Peanut, she thought about Blaise’s call earlier. It was clear she’d been trying not to get ahead of herself. Cece understood being excited about something like that email. Then she thought about Blaise’s sweet offer to go along on Cece’s next appointment.

Cece appreciated that more than she’d expressed. Having someone there wasn’t so much about dealing with fear. It was more about not having to listen alone. About having a second set of ears when the language was so clinical and emotion made it hard to listen as closely as she should.

She pushed that thought aside and glanced at the legal pad next to her keyboard. At the top was a short To Do list she’d written earlier, most of which she’d accomplished.

Except for the last one, which was to email Maude. She paused there.

Maude had reached out the day before, asking if Cece knew anything about a woman named Darcy Lane. Cece hadn’t. She’d checked her physical notes as well as her mental filing cabinet of Colony comings and goings. Nothing useful. It bothered her more than she’d expected.

She liked being helpful. She liked having answers. She sort of thought of herself as the person who had answers. But not this time.

Peanut had just jumped down when her phone buzzed with a notification. She glanced at the screen. She’d gotten an email. She sat back and opened her inbox.

A new email awaited from Linda, who was Cece’s contact at the Colony’s main office. The subject read, New Resident List.

Cece opened it without much thought. She got these once a month and used them to select people to interview for The Buzz. If possible, she liked to be a few months ahead, banking the interviews so they were done and ready to go.

She read the brief email, which was exactly as she’d expected—a polite note thanking her for continuing to contribute interviews to The Buzz, followed by a list of new arrivals who’d completed their paperwork and were available.

Cece skimmed the names and occupations, looking for any that jumped out at her. There was a retired dentist, a couple from North Carolina who clogged, and a former veterinarian. Then her eyes stopped.

Darcy Lane, moved from Atlanta. Part-time yoga teacher.

Cece stared at that information. She leaned back in her chair and looked at her laptop screen. Joe’s music still sat paused in the editing software, the waveform frozen mid-note.

Maybe she could be the woman with the answers after all.

Cece went back to her phone and scrolled down, checking for details. There weren’t many. No spouse listed. No volunteer interests yet.

She closed the email and sat for a moment, hands folded loosely around her phone.

This wasn’t a coincidence. Not exactly. But it was a pretty good chance at digging into Darcy to get more info. This was the universe creating the kind of opportunity she hadn’t even asked for.