Keeping What's His: Tate (Porter Brothers Trilogy 1)

She needed her head examined. She knew from the stories Pap had told her that these mountains were dangerous. Tate had made no effort to hide the danger the summer they had been together. With the property left vacant for so many years, it was just another mistake in a long line she had made.

First thing in the morning, she would go into town and contact a realtor. She would sell the house as quickly as possible and go back to California. Then the only problem she would have left would be to figure out where home was.

Chapter 9

“Did you hear they found Lyle Turner dead? He was shot in the back of his head a half mile from your house.”

Sutton almost dropped the Styrofoam coffee cup in her hand. She had stopped in at the diner to buy herself a cup to help wake up and had passed Cheryl in the parking lot as she was leaving.

“No, I hadn’t heard.” Sutton didn’t tell her she had called the police when she had heard the shots last night.

“It’s all people are talking about when they come into the hardware store. The sheriff is looking for Tate.”

Sutton frowned. “Why Tate?”

“Lyle and Tate have had some bad blood between them lately. Lyle had a protection order against Tate. It only makes sense that he’s the one who shot Lyle.”

“Not to me,” Sutton snapped back. “Tate might be a jerk, but he wouldn’t shoot anyone in the back of the head. He wouldn’t hesitate to shoot them between the eyes, but Tate wouldn’t shoot anyone without giving them a chance to defend themselves.”

Cheryl shrugged. “I’m just repeating what everyone is saying.”

“Then everyone is wrong.” Sutton opened her car door, getting inside.

“Wait, are you mad at me?” Cheryl placed her hand on the car door, preventing her from closing it.

Sutton sighed. She didn’t know why she was taking up for Tate, anyway. He didn’t need her to protect him. He hadn’t in the past and certainly didn’t need it now.

“No, I’m sorry. I guess I’m a little freaked out finding out someone was killed not far from my house.”

“Oh.” Cheryl’s smile of relief filled her face. “That’s fine. I shouldn’t be repeating gossip. I hated it when I was the one everyone in town was talking about. Want to go out for a drink Friday night? I don’t have many friends left in town since I alienated most of them when Jared and I were going through our divorce.”

“I’d like that. Seven o’clock at that new restaurant?”

“King’s?” Sutton nodded. “Sounds good. I’ll meet you there.”

“Bye, Cheryl.”

“Bye.”

Sutton closed her car door as Cheryl moved away, going inside the diner. Sutton was sure she would find someone else to talk to who would be more interested in spreading the gossip about Tate. In the meantime, it was only a couple of miles to the realtor’s office.

Hall Realty was the only realty company in town. When she had looked it up online, she had realized she knew the owner of the business since Drake Hall had attended high school with her. Sutton missed the anonymity of a larger city. In Treepoint, everyone knew everyone and who your parents were, going back generations.

Cheryl knocked on the office door before hearing a brusque male voice telling her to come inside.

Drake Hall rose from behind his desk as she entered. He was powerfully built with the same smile she remembered from high school. He had been one of the handsomest boys in school, and she was sure he was still one of the best-looking men in town.

Sutton introduced herself, taking the hand he held out.

“Judge Creech’s daughter?”

“Yes.”

“I haven’t seen you in Treepoint for years.”

“I live in San Diego now. I want to sell the house my grandfather left me.”

Drake’s smile slipped for a brief second as he waved her to a chair in front of his desk before returning to his own. “Property isn’t exactly selling right now. What kind of condition is the house in?”

“I’m cleaning it, and I’m going to put in a new kitchen and bathroom before we place it on the market. It should only take a couple of weeks. I’ve already contacted a contractor.”

“I see.”

“I thought the improvements would help it sell?” Sutton inquired, seeing the heavy frown on Drake’s face.

“Usually, it does, but in your case, I don’t think it’s going to make much of a difference. I don’t know how you’re set financially, and I would hate to see you wasting your money on a house that’s going to take time to sell.”

“Why won’t it make a difference?”

“Because anyone who buys that house will be buying it for the land.”

Sutton silently agreed with his assessment.

“I’m aware someone is using it to grow their weed,” she broached the subject they were both skirting around.

“Then you know the only one who’s going to buy it is the one using it to farm their crops. They won’t step forward, because they probably don’t have the money and won’t want to make it known they’re using the land, and no one else will buy it, afraid of pissing someone off who’s already using the land for free.”