Did you have another fight with your brother?” Hannah sat at the bistro table near the window, toying with the business card of the private detective. She wasn’t trying to eavesdrop on the pretty waitress and the man who had posted the Help Wanted sign. Not that she could help it. At three thirty in the afternoon, the place was virtually empty. Hannah had walked in as eight people, in boring business suits, shuffled out. Only four other people were in there and they sat around the corner in the next room. An empty place wasn’t uncommon in Fincastle, but in a city the size of Tidewater with more than a million residents, it seemed strange. So why weren’t more people here? The food was excellent as was the décor. Whoever had thought to use a Victorian-style house as a restaurant had been a genius. Instead of one large room, the first floor of the building was sectioned off into four eating areas and a kitchen.
