But Hank stared at the old Victorian, trepidation in his eyes. “No offense, honey, but I can’t go into the old Perkins place.”
Thomas adjusted his collar and smoothed nonexistent wrinkles in his pressed khaki pants. “I’m with my brother on this one. It’s not that we don’t appreciate the offer,” he said, almost bowing before Lauren in apology.
She swallowed over the unexpected lump in her throat.
Jason protectively grabbed her elbow. “As you can see, we’re perfectly fine. We have work to do, so you two can go home.” His voice was laden with disappointment.
After the two men left, Lauren walked into the house, planning to go straight to her grandmother’s office and sift through her papers. Instead, the first thing she noticed other than the smoky smell was the mouse caught in Jason’s trap.
Before she could react, he came up behind her, grabbing her arms and steering her past it.
“I’ve got this. You go check out the bedroom, open the windows to air it out-if they aren’t Super Glued sheet. Same with the rest of the house.”
She didn’t mind taking orders if it meant he was protecting her from rodents. “What are you going to do with it?”
“I thought I’d take it for a ride and let it go somewhere far away. Okay with you?” he asked.
She nodded, feeling silly. “Thanks.”
She left the room without looking back. For the next few hours, she holed up in her grandmother’s study, poring over business papers for names. Some Lauren recognized, others she didn’t. None were related to the workers who’d been in the house since she’d begun renovations and her frustration grew.
She called the insurance company and asked how to file a claim. They promised to get an adjuster in touch with her in a few days. She explained she didn’t have the time to spare, that she needed to get started on fixing what had been ruined in the fire, but they insisted she leave things until the inspection.
She lowered her head to her hands and fought back tears of anger and frustration. If she didn’t get this house sold, it wouldn’t be the end of the world, but it would mean she’d have 2500 square feet still on her shoulders-her responsibility and depleting her bank account.
Lauren knew she still had the chest in her grandmother’s closet to look through, something she’d been putting off because she sensed the drawers contained more personal items and papers. Considering their rocky relationship, Lauren felt like an intruder, looking through Mary Perkins’s private things. The fire gave her the excuse and push she needed.
She rose, stretching her legs, but before she could head to her grandmother’s room, Lauren heard voices coming from down the hall. Jason had his crew here, not just for work but to question them about the fire, but the voices Lauren heard didn’t belong to the men. She’d grown used to the low timbre of their conversation.
She stepped into the hall and saw Amber and Gabrielle, as well as Jason’s cousin Derek and a man she didn’t recognize.
“Hi,” she said warily.
“Hi,” both men said.
“I’m Mike Corwin,” the good-looking, dark-haired stranger said.
Lauren nodded, noting the family resemblance. “Lauren Perkins.”
He shook her hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Same here.” She had no idea what they wanted. “What’s going on?” Lauren asked.
Jason strode to her side. “Derek was just about to tell us.”
“We were,” Derek said. “But I think it’s best if you hear it from Gabrielle.”
“And Amber-” Mike added.
“Both have something to tell you,” Derek said.
And from the serious look in everyone’s eyes, Lauren suspected they wouldn’t like what they were about to hear.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
JASON PROPPED one shoulder against the wall and glanced at Gabrielle and Amber as they walked down the hallway. Even to Lauren’s untrained eye, the two women looked guilty, looking everywhere but at Lauren or Jason.
“Tell them,” Mike instructed, staring at his wife.