A Willing Murder (Medlar Mystery 1)
As soon as she stepped outside, she heard an odd sound, like something pounding. She couldn’t identify it.
As she walked toward the man, she wondered what to say to him. Are you exploiting my aunt? Taking the poor woman for all she’s worth? Not a good introduction. She needed to find out the truth before she started making accusations.
When she was two feet away, he turned to look at her. He had very dark eyes. “You must be Kate. Sorry I didn’t make it to the door.” He removed the earbuds. “But I left it unlocked for you.”
The pounding continued. There was a chair nearby and Kate sat down. “Is this the apartment I’m supposed to take?” She motioned to the doors.
“Yeah. You like it?”
“Very much.”
“Sara will be glad. She drove everyone mad planning it. You have any trouble finding the place?”
“I met Alastair Stewart in town and followed him in my car.”
Jack gave a little smile. “I heard he was back. Did he ask you on a date yet?”
“He did, actually. We go out on Saturday.” Kate settled back in the chair.
Something about the warm, balmy air was peaceful. And oddly, this man made her feel calm—the exact opposite of Alastair.
“I knew he wouldn’t waste any time. He’s a good guy, though. A little too old and a little too perfect, but he’s okay. Who else did you meet?”
“Melissa at Tayla’s office.”
He gave a snort of laughter. “If you sell houses and get along with Tayla, she’ll be jealous.”
“She already is—because of you. If you’re Jack, that is.”
“I am and you’re right. She follows me around town. Who else?”
The pounding kept on. It wasn’t a regular rhythm. It went fast, stopped, then slowed. “Bessie at the tea shop.”
“She loves all things Stewart. Thinks they’re royalty.”
“I can see that.” Kate closed her eyes and held her face up to the warmth.
Contrary to what she’d dreaded, she felt like she was talking to someone she’d known for a long time. “How is my aunt?” She prepared herself to hear the worst.
“Sounds like she’s doing well.”
“What does that mean?”
When he looked at her, he seemed to be puzzled by her expression. But then he turned back to face the fountain. “Today she’s hitting something besides me.”
“Oh.” Kate’s eyes widened. “Does she hit you because of her bad temper?”
Jack looked shocked. “Bad temper? What in the world have you been told about her?”
Kate didn’t answer.
“I know that look! It’s just like hers. You aren’t going to tell me, so you’ll just have to go and meet her for yourself. Go back through those doors and out through the living room. I’d go with you, but—” He tossed the blanket back to expose his left leg, which was in a cast that reached above his knee.
His drunken car wreck, Kate thought, but didn’t say. She went through the apartment, then outside past an outdoor kitchen. The swimming pool was in front of her and to the right—under the deep roof overhang, she saw a woman from the back. She was wearing red boxing gloves and slamming away at a big leather bag. Her pounding reverberated through the house.
The woman was short, trim and obviously strong. She had blond hair that was wet with sweat in the back. Who was this? she wondered. A caretaker for her aunt Sara?
Kate was about to speak when one of the sliding doors between her and the woman was thrown open.