Olive and Let Die by Susannah Hardy

and he’ll be laid up all winter. So you’d be doing me a favor.”
    Jack looked thoughtful. “That is a very tempting offer. Are you sure? I didn’t get in touch with you to freeload.”
    Take the house!
I silently cheered. Selfishly, I wanted him near me. And this place was beautiful.
    â€œYou’re not freeloading if I suggest it. And if you want to earn your keep, you can paint the upstairs bedrooms. I’ll leave a list of projects I’d like done, how’s that?”
    â€œOh, so
you’re
taking advantage of
me
.” He laughed. “Gladys Montgomery, you’ve got yourself a deal.”
    A self-satisfied smile appeared on her face. She reminded me of Sophie, who always got what she wanted too. “Now go get back to work, you two. I’ll take care of the dishes.”
    We worked methodically, finishing up the wrapping and packing. The display cases sat empty, looking forlorn. I thought about Mr. Montgomery and hoped he was happy that his life’s work was going to a museum where the collection could be studied and cared for properly.
    Now that the work was done but for carrying out the boxes, I had a moment to examine some of the framed photographs on the wall above the cases. Most were eight-by-tens and five-by-sevens, all black-and-white and framed in a mishmash of styles. Monty, at least I assume it was Monty, had been a handsome fellow, with fair hair and sleeves rolled up to reveal muscular forearms. In one of the pictures he had one of those arms thrown around the shoulders of alovely woman with dark hair. I looked closer. It had to be Gladys. I smiled. They looked so happy.
    Jack took a stack of boxes and carried them out.
    Gladys came from behind and stood next to me. “He was a good man,” she said.
    â€œHe must have been,” I agreed.
    â€œOf course, our families didn’t want us to marry.”
    I looked at her with surprise. “Why not?”
    â€œWell, I came from a large family. We were poor, but we got by. Monty came from money and they didn’t think I was good enough for him. His mother was a Bloodworth.”
    â€œA Bloodworth?” The name meant nothing to me.
    â€œOne of the old families in these parts. Not that Monty ever saw any of their money. He, and his father before him, were self-made men.”
    I glanced around. My eyes came to rest on the Remington bronze—not exactly priceless, but worth a good chunk of change. The house and land were probably worth close to a million dollars by now.
    Jack came back in for another load. “My ears are burning. Are you two talking about me again?”
    â€œWouldn’t you like to know?” Gladys said sweetly.
    Jack dropped a kiss on Gladys’s head. “I’m glad I’m taking you up on the offer to move in here for the winter. It’s quite a bit nicer than my digs over the Suds-a-Rama. And quieter too.”
    She seemed delighted. “Wonderful! Thanks to you, I won’t have to go to the trouble of shutting up the house. Move your things in anytime.”
    Jack turned to me. “Are you ready, Georgie? We should get going.”
    I gave Gladys a hug. She was such a sweet woman. “Thank you for lunch, Gladys.”
    She waved her hand. “You’re very welcome. It was a small price to pay for your lovely company and your help with Monty’s collection. It’s a relief to have that taken care of.”
    â€œAnd thank you again for the recipes. I can’t wait to start looking through them.”
    We piled into the boat and motored back to Bonaparte Bay. When we were just passing the Edgewood Resort, my cell phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and looked at the screen. Spiro. What could my almost-ex want? I remembered I’d promised to find him a cook. Well, if that was what he was calling about, I had nothing to say. I’d call him back later.
    At the dock we unloaded the boxes into Jack’s car. Brenda