Chapter Six
There was something familiar about her street, he thought as he parked in front of a faded yellow bungalow with an attached garage in front and a flower bed similar to what his mom had planted—her fall garden, as she had always called it.
He strode up the driveway behind Tessa’s compact, seeing her neatly trimmed grass and the ladder leaning against the side of the house, next to gutters that needed to be put up. The door was closed, and, seeing the tape over the doorbell, he knocked instead, taking in the missing trim around the windows.
He could hear her footsteps, and then the door opened. Her straight blond hair was now hanging long and loose, and she’d changed into a red and white blouse and faded blue jeans. For a second, she said nothing, her hand resting on the door.
