CHAPTER 18
XAVIER LEANED ON the balcony railing outside his studio, a cup of coffee in one hand. The early morning sun hadn’t yet burned off the last wisps of mist, and they hung in the trees like the spirits local legend said haunted these woods. He loved this kind of morning. The crack of a twig as a deer walked through the forest, the distant burble of the mountain stream that bisected the property. Up above, a red-tailed hawk soared high above the treetops.
But alas, the peace wasn’t to last. He picked up the cheap cell phone sitting on the table and dialled.
Three rings, then, “Yeah.”
“You home yet?” He spoke softly, not out of necessity but from habit. Well aware of Georgia’s propensity to eavesdrop, he’d checked she was still asleep before making the call. There was nobody to he
