Read Haunted (A Bishop/SCU Novel Book 15) for Free Online Page B

side of Main Street, because there wasn’t a whole lot of room.
    Beyond, on the other side of the stream, were a few smallish trees on an even more narrow strip of grass, a couple of benches facing the spectacular view from an as-close-as-you’d-want-to-get perspective, planting beds covered with mulch hinting at flowers to come in the spring—and then, bordered by a different and stronger wrought-iron fence to prevent a tragic slip, a pretty sheer drop to the bottom of the valley at least three hundred yards below. The valley stretched out for miles and seemed to be mostly pasture dotted with cows and horses, a few fields obviously farmed, and widely scattered older homes holding the people who farmed them.
    With the mountains ringing the valley, it really did present an extremely attractive view. And no doubt a pleasant place to live for many reasons, among them the absence of any industry producing pollution of the air or groundwater, and a population small enough that most knew each other but not so small that there was nothing better to do than to nose into each other’s business. Most of the time, at least.
    Still. It was an odd place to put a town, Deacon thought, but he had seen odder, especially along the Blue Ridge, with its old mountains and old towns that had sprung up generations ago around now long-defunct mining camps or trading posts, or to serve the many farmers in the valley—where tillable land was too valuable a resource to waste on businesses and official buildings that could easily perch on the mountainside above.
    Well, not
easily.
But from a practical standpoint, if farming and ranching served the local economy well enough, then sensibly.
    Deacon knew that many towns like Sociable pretty much depended on a local-driven economy supplemented by seasonal tourism sparked by this or that “festival” or other annual draw besides the scenery. Most such small towns, in these difficult economic times, struggled to remain viable, and most watched the younger generations move away after high school because there was so little to offer them in the way of a career or even a good, steady job that wouldn’t keep them in a small office or behind a counter for the rest of their lives.
    But it appeared that Sociable was doing all right for itself, or at least all right enough that all the buildings Deacon could see on Main Street appeared to be attractive and occupied, at least surviving if not thriving. He couldn’t see a single vacant building, at least along the main drag. And there had to be some money about; he had passed both a high school and a middle school on the drive in, both newish and sprawling buildings less than five miles from downtown, both with well-designed and well-maintained athletic fields.
    Probably the latest thing in tech as well. Couldn’t send your kids out in the world these days without education in all things digital, after all—even though plenty of kids knew a lot more about cutting-edge technology than did their parents because they’d grown up with so much of it in their lives.
    Deacon had passed a couple of car dealerships, too. A few recognizable chain restaurants off the highway. A couple of small motels tucked away close to the highway, one at least outwardly respectable and one clearly the sort that charged by the hour.
    He had also passed churches. Several churches.
    And there was one downtown, perched high above Main Street, the highest visible point of downtown, the whiteness of its slender steeple almost shining in the afternoon light. Maybe watching over the town and valley below.
    Maybe.
    There was a bed-and-breakfast literally at each end of downtown, with a well-kept and attractive building housing a three-story hotel smack in the middle, which included a restaurant on the ground floor. There were numerous stores, at least three other restaurants or cafés, a couple of banks. A sheriff’s office apparently shared a fairly large building with the town post