The Blue Ridge Project: A Dark Suspense Novel (The Project Book 1) by Neil Rochford Page A

the papers to the floor and reached for her phone and called Cap on his private number.
    “Hello?”
    Cap sounded groggy, and she checked her watch. It was a little after midnight. “Hey, Cap, it’s me.”
    “I can tell. Hold on,” he said, and she could hear movement and a low voice in the background. Then she heard Cap mumbling something, and a few seconds later he was back on the line. “Just had to go downstairs. What’s the latest?”
    Andrea sighed. “I’m not sure. This stuff is all over the place. So far, I have Kale getting money regularly from some unknown source.”
    “Hmm,” Cap said, and there was a pause. “What about the note on the John Doe outside the hotel? Anything there?”
    “Not yet. Haven’t found any reference to a BR or anything starting with those letters.”
    “All right, I’ll have a look and see if I can dig up anything else. I’ve got a name for you on the other one, the one they found with Solas. Kenny Arellano. Guy used to work for a company called Sonic Solutions a few years ago. They used to work with audio technology before they went bankrupt. Then he just kind of dropped off the grid. I'll try to see what I can dig up about his financial records.”
    “Okay. Hopefully it’ll be the connection. This one is weird. I mean full on freak show. If we could get some info on the guy outside the hotel...”
    “We’ll get there, Annie. I know it. You get some rest now. And hey, don’t forget about tomorrow.”
    Andrea frowned. “Tomorrow?” She walked over to the calendar on the wall, and groaned when she saw the red circle around the next day’s date and the little word scribbled inside.
    “Yeah, tomorrow. Mandated therapy. Don’t miss it.”
    “Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry about it. Goodnight, Cap.”
    “’Night, Annie.”
    After she hung up, she flipped her middle finger at the calendar and held it for a good ten seconds.
    *****
    When she woke the next morning, she felt more rested than she had in days. She looked at the clock on her bedside table, and saw that she had slept right through her alarm. She stretched and got out of bed, seeing the calendar and the red circle again as she walked to the shower. The time for the appointment was in an hour and a half. She was out the door in forty minutes, and managed to arrive ten minutes early to the address she had been given.
    It was a big Georgian-style house, with three large bay windows stacked on top of each other. The garden was rectangular with the house at the long end. Hedges on either side covered up most of the neighbors’ view into both the front and the side of the house. Andrea walked up the stone path, which had the appearance of being laid over the grass, and got to the door. She searched for a bell and when she couldn’t find one, she used the hand-shaped knocker, letting it fall twice onto the light-blue wood with a loud tap.
    She heard a rustling sound inside, and after a few seconds the door opened a few inches. A woman in her fifties appeared in the gap, the view of her face split by the door chain. She had an amiable but professional-looking smile on her face and short, graying hair.
    “Can I help you?” she asked in a soothing low tone.
    A practiced voice , Andrea thought. “I’m Andrea Nox. I’m here for a therapy session.” She stood with both feet planted shoulder-width apart. She looked the older woman straight in the eye, unsmiling, and holding her identification out in front of her.
    The older woman checked her watch, undid the chain and pulled the door all the way open. She waved a hand to invite Andrea in. “Come on in, Andrea. I’m Doctor Silvers.”
    Andrea stepped over the threshold and looked at the collection of porcelain cats on the hall table.
    “A little foible of mine,” Silvers said. “Do you like them?”
    Andrea shrugged. “They’re okay, I guess. I’m more of a dog person. Real dogs, though.”
    Silvers smiled a little smile. “Come on, we can use this room.” She