A Willing Murder (Medlar Mystery 1)

Jack stood there, leaning on crutches, and he was looking at the woman. “Juan just called and that big poinciana came down. I have to go see about it. You want to shoot it?”

“Damn right I do! Oh.” She saw Kate and halted, staring at her.

Jack hobbled to the woman—he wasn’t good on the crutches—and she held out her arms so he could pull off her big boxing gloves. “Kate, Sara. Sara, Kate.” He looked to Kate. “You wanna go with us?”

“You’re Sara?” Kate asked. The woman was older but she certainly didn’t look to be in her late sixties. “But I thought... I mean...”

Sara nodded. “Ava told you about me, right?”

“Yes. She said—”

“Can you two do this later? If that tree hit the roof, I need to get the men to fix it. It might rain today.”

“It’s Florida,” Sara said. “It’s always about to rain. Maybe Kate wants to freshen up or maybe I should stay here so we can talk. Or—”

Jack turned his back on them and started into the house. “Stay here and write a novel about it for all I care. I’m going to go see the damages. I bet those roots are huge. I’ll take some cell-phone photos for you.”

“Cell phone! You blasphemer,” Sara called out, then looked at Kate. “If you want to stay here and get acquainted, we can.”

“Houses, fallen trees. They’re right up my alley,” Kate said. “Let’s go. We have plenty of time to catch up.”

Sara’s eyes lit up and she smiled big. “Wait for us,” she called after Jack. “I have to get my camera.”

“I’ll wait five minutes,” Jack replied from inside the house. “Then I’m leaving.”

“It’ll take him ten minutes to get into the truck.” Sara hesitated only a second, then started running into the house.

Kate didn’t know whether to follow her or try to find the garage. She went after her aunt.

The double doors leading into Sara’s bedroom were open, so she followed her aunt in. To the right was the bathroom and Sara’s voice came from there. “I’ve got to peel off these sweaty clothes. Would you get my camera? Everything is in that black backpack by the bed.”

Kate went into the bedroom, which was all soft blues and pale greens, with an off-white carpet. There was a glassed-in sitting area that looked out to the canal.

“Done!” Sara said from the hall.

She had on black pants and a pink polo shirt, and she looked good. Kate grabbed the camera bag and hurried into the foyer.

Jack had dropped the flowers into a vase full of water. He was leaning on his crutches and rummaging through the fruit basket Kate had brought. He held up an orange in an almost threatening way. “This is the basis of our Florida economy.”

“Quit complaining and let’s go,” Sara said. “Or are you waiting for me to pick you up and put you in the truck?”

“There are some women who’d like that.” Jack was stuffing the pockets of his baggy pants full of fruit. “I’ll save these for later and maybe Kate will want some.”

“If you want a bunch of bananas or whatever,” Sara said, “you could always go to the grocery and get some.”

Kate was standing back and watching them. Nothing could be more different from what she’d expected. Jack didn’t seem like the predator she’d thought he was, and her aunt Sara didn’t seem anywhere near ill or senile. She certainly wasn’t overweight, as Kate had been expecting. And she didn’t appear to have lost any of her intelligence.

But it was too early to make conclusions. Jack had opened the garage door to reveal a Chevy pickup so ratty it looked like it had been used to haul gravel for state roads.

Sara opened the passenger door. “You get the middle.”

“That’s so she can shoot out the window.” Jack tossed his crutches into the back, then struggled to get up and into the cab.

Kate scrambled in and Sara took the other side.

As he pulled out, the three of them were silent—and it was awkward. There was such a newness about them, a feeling of knowing so little about one another that they couldn’t begin. I was born in...? Did she start there?

“So,” Kate said, “are you two lovers?” It was such a ridiculous question that she hoped to make them laugh. But when they were silent, she began to wonder if her sense of humor wasn’t the same as theirs.