A Justified Murder (Medlar Mystery 2)

She knew Jack meant that maybe they should call off the celebration. And then what? He would go to Gil and demand to be told what was going on? If Gil refused, would the infamous Wyatt temper come out? It’s what Gil dreaded. She filled in a word for him. “We shouldn’t go separately?” She made herself sound cheerful. “Good idea. I’ll ride with you.”

Jack took a moment as he seemed to be deciding what to do.

“Is the champagne cold?” she encouraged.

His eyes let her know that he was aware of what she was doing. “Yeah. It is. Come on, let’s go.”

They didn’t speak as they walked to his truck and got in. As he drove, she could see a muscle working in his jaw. When he went down Heron Lane, she drew in her breath. Suddenly, she realized what he’d finally accomplished. He’d managed to buy either the house his grandfather had grown up in or Sara’s old house. For years, it had been a dream of Jack’s to buy them, but the owner had refused to sell. “You didn’t!”

For the first time since hearing Tayla’s phone conversation, his eyes lit up and he nodded.

“Which one?”

“Both.”

Kate laughed in delight. “And who handled the deal? Did—?” She cut herself off. She wasn’t going to ruin this with talk of money.

“The owner has a cousin who’s a Realtor. Sorry.” He pulled the truck into the weed-infested driveway of a little house that looked as though it might collapse at any moment. Sagging roof, rotting porch posts, broken windows. But she knew that to Jack it was a trophy of triumph. The house had belonged to his grandfather Cal, and through the rampant Florida growth she could see a bit of the house next door. It had once belonged to Sara’s family.

She got out of the truck. The place was going to take a massive amount of work. So much so that it would be easier to bulldoze the two houses and build from scratch, but she knew Jack would never do that. He’d worked for over a year to get the current owner to sell to him. When Jack came to stand beside her, she said, “Well? Are you going to show me or not?”

“It’s bad inside. I don’t think—”

“Oh come on. Couldn’t be worse than parts of Chicago.”

He gave her a look of challenge, as though to say this was, then shoved on the front door to open it. It wasn’t locked.

Inside, they heard the scurry of tiny feet as creatures ran to hide. Jack flipped a switch and a floor lamp in the corner came on. “Wiring isn’t to code. It’ll have to be redone.”

“And the plumbing, and the roof, and the...” She waved her hand. “All of it. Put in new windows and the light in here would be good.”

She could see energy beginning to return to him as he took her on a tour of the decaying house. There was a living room that opened into a dining room. Behind it was a compact kitchen, a little breakfast room, and a screened-in porch. There were two bedrooms that shared the one bathroom. The house was outdated enough to be used as a display in a museum. What the boys from WWII came home to.

“What do you think?” he asked when they got back to the front room.

“Tear out the wall between the kitchen and the breakfast room, make the porch into a full bath, and I can sell it.” She saw him hesitate. “Or not. Thinking of keeping it?”

“Maybe. I haven’t decided.”

“Is the floor plan for Sara’s old house like this one?”

“Identical. There were four of them in a row.”

“And she never wants to see hers again?”

“Right,” Jack said. “Are you hungry? I brought food.”

Whether it was from hearing Tayla or the somberness of the old house, Jack wasn’t his usual teasing, laughing self. “Starved,” she said. “You have anything good?”

“How about a Cuban feast? I brought a cooler and some drinks and...” He shrugged.

“How bad is Aunt Sara’s house?”

For the first time, he gave a real smile. “I thought you might want to go over there, so this afternoon I did a little cleaning.”

“Made it into a palace, did you?”

“I wish. Help me get the stuff out of the truck and we’ll eat over there.” He looked at her high-heel-clad feet. “I tossed in a pair of your sandals. Thought you might need them.”