Chapter Fourteen
Lorcan turned the Bluetooth tracking device off and slid it into his bag. “We can see her from here and hear what she says from the speaker.” Orla nodded. Orla and Lorcan had planted themselves in the front yard of a house a respectable distance from Mrs. Hanson’s. Gauging from the overflowing mailbox and overgrown garden, they speculated the house was uninhabited. But to be sure, Orla knocked on the door. There was no response.
A hoarse female voice croaked out from their speaker, “I’ve convinced Woody to forgive your intrusion this morning, but he’s still upset!”
They heard a dog barking.
“Mrs. Hanson, I’m sorry I was rude this morning, but I . . .” Madeline said.
Lorcan winced at the old woman’s voice. It was unpleasant and oddly spooky—it gave him goose bumps.
“A
