don’t want to seem too pushy. Or desperate. I might scare her away.”
Tino laughed. “You’re not scary.”
Howard smiled. “She doesn’t know me like you do.”
Tino nodded and fiddled with his chess pieces. “Oh!” He sat up suddenly. “I forgot. I have homework. For math class. It’s due this afternoon.”
Did he really? Howard suspected the boy was making excuses to get out of playing a game that hadn’t lived up to his expectations. “Well, then you’d better get to it.” He lifted Tino off the chair.
“Bye, Howard!” Tino grinned at him, then skipped out of the office.
Howard returned to his desk to finish reading the news article on his laptop.
He called Harry. “Great job.”
“Thanks.” Harry sounded excited. “Everything’s going just as we planned. The mainstream news has latched on to the story.”
“Really? That’s good.”
“Yeah. Rhett’s in town today, and the reporters are all over him like vultures. He’s denying he made the campaign contributions, but the candidates are saying he did and they can prove it. He’s got a deer-in-the-headlights look, which is really funny on a wolf.” Harry laughed. “I’ll send you a photo.”
“Good.” Howard wished he could personally see Rhett having an anxiety attack, but it was better if he was far away. Out of sight, out of mind, hopefully.
“I’m running an article tomorrow on how he’s harassing those bankrupt towns,” Harry continued. “And I’ve got three more exposés after that. He’ll never be able to run for office once I’m through with him.”
“Great. But be careful, bro. Keep it anonymous.”
“Don’t worry. My editor agreed to leave off the byline.” Harry paused, then his tone turned serious. “I started investigating what happened to our dads.”
Howard blinked. “Why? It was a fire. A lightning storm.”
“That’s what we were told, but we were so young at the time, we never questioned it.” Harry sighed. “I checked the records, and there was no storm that night.”
Howard stiffened. If the fire had been man-made, then their fathers were murdered.
“I’ll see what I can find out,” Harry said. “Okay?”
Howard gritted his teeth. “Do it.”
“A re you sure?” Alastair hesitated on the front porch of the gatehouse.
“I’ll be fine here,” Elsa insisted. “There’s no point in both of us going.”
“All right, luv. I shall return with a sandwich forthwith. Or whatever sustenance I can find.” He headed to the rental car. “Cheerio.”
“Mustard, no mayo,” Elsa called out, then waved as he drove off toward Cranville.
He’d been wily enough last night to wheedle an extra key from Shanna, and they had spent the morning taking photos and documenting problems they found in each room. It was all part of their plan to show Shanna how excited and dedicated they were over the proposed renovation.
Elsa returned to her notepad in the old house’s kitchen. There would be a ton of work needed there. New plumbing, new appliances, new countertops, new floor. The old cabinets were solid wood and salvageable, but she doubted there were enough of them to suit a modern owner. This was her area of expertise—woodwork. And it was the sort of challenge she loved. She could fashion new cabinets that were an exact match to the old ones.
Last night, she’d told Howard it was all about family. And it was. She could feel it most strongly here in the kitchen. How many meals had been prepared in this room? How many families had gathered around this old wooden table? Quite a few, since the gatehouse had been built in 1892. She ran a hand over the scarred table. If it was up to her, she’d make sure this old house continued to be a home for another hundred years.
She ventured into a small room next to the kitchen and halted with a wince. The boards were giving too much under her weight. She knelt for a closer look. Wood rot. The window was missing a few panes, so rain and snow had
Tino laughed. “You’re not scary.”
Howard smiled. “She doesn’t know me like you do.”
Tino nodded and fiddled with his chess pieces. “Oh!” He sat up suddenly. “I forgot. I have homework. For math class. It’s due this afternoon.”
Did he really? Howard suspected the boy was making excuses to get out of playing a game that hadn’t lived up to his expectations. “Well, then you’d better get to it.” He lifted Tino off the chair.
“Bye, Howard!” Tino grinned at him, then skipped out of the office.
Howard returned to his desk to finish reading the news article on his laptop.
He called Harry. “Great job.”
“Thanks.” Harry sounded excited. “Everything’s going just as we planned. The mainstream news has latched on to the story.”
“Really? That’s good.”
“Yeah. Rhett’s in town today, and the reporters are all over him like vultures. He’s denying he made the campaign contributions, but the candidates are saying he did and they can prove it. He’s got a deer-in-the-headlights look, which is really funny on a wolf.” Harry laughed. “I’ll send you a photo.”
“Good.” Howard wished he could personally see Rhett having an anxiety attack, but it was better if he was far away. Out of sight, out of mind, hopefully.
“I’m running an article tomorrow on how he’s harassing those bankrupt towns,” Harry continued. “And I’ve got three more exposés after that. He’ll never be able to run for office once I’m through with him.”
“Great. But be careful, bro. Keep it anonymous.”
“Don’t worry. My editor agreed to leave off the byline.” Harry paused, then his tone turned serious. “I started investigating what happened to our dads.”
Howard blinked. “Why? It was a fire. A lightning storm.”
“That’s what we were told, but we were so young at the time, we never questioned it.” Harry sighed. “I checked the records, and there was no storm that night.”
Howard stiffened. If the fire had been man-made, then their fathers were murdered.
“I’ll see what I can find out,” Harry said. “Okay?”
Howard gritted his teeth. “Do it.”
“A re you sure?” Alastair hesitated on the front porch of the gatehouse.
“I’ll be fine here,” Elsa insisted. “There’s no point in both of us going.”
“All right, luv. I shall return with a sandwich forthwith. Or whatever sustenance I can find.” He headed to the rental car. “Cheerio.”
“Mustard, no mayo,” Elsa called out, then waved as he drove off toward Cranville.
He’d been wily enough last night to wheedle an extra key from Shanna, and they had spent the morning taking photos and documenting problems they found in each room. It was all part of their plan to show Shanna how excited and dedicated they were over the proposed renovation.
Elsa returned to her notepad in the old house’s kitchen. There would be a ton of work needed there. New plumbing, new appliances, new countertops, new floor. The old cabinets were solid wood and salvageable, but she doubted there were enough of them to suit a modern owner. This was her area of expertise—woodwork. And it was the sort of challenge she loved. She could fashion new cabinets that were an exact match to the old ones.
Last night, she’d told Howard it was all about family. And it was. She could feel it most strongly here in the kitchen. How many meals had been prepared in this room? How many families had gathered around this old wooden table? Quite a few, since the gatehouse had been built in 1892. She ran a hand over the scarred table. If it was up to her, she’d make sure this old house continued to be a home for another hundred years.
She ventured into a small room next to the kitchen and halted with a wince. The boards were giving too much under her weight. She knelt for a closer look. Wood rot. The window was missing a few panes, so rain and snow had
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