Chapter 53
1048 Words
The door opened with the creak of old hinges and revealed an entrance hall with a woman in it. he was holding the doorknob, smiling with relief.
"Canva's got me so damn nervous," he said.
Harper smiled back in a sympathetic way and introduced herself and Gina. The woman shook hands with both of them.
"Carly La
marr," he said. "Really pleased to meet you. "
he led the way inside. The hall was square and as large as a room, walled and floored in old pine, which had been stripped and waxed to a fresh color a shade darker than the gold on Harper's badge. There were curtains in yellow checked gingham. Sofas with feather-filled pillows. Old oil lamps converted to take electric bulbs.
"Can I get you guys coffee?" Carly Jackr asked.
"I'm all set right now," Harper said.
"Yes, please," Gina said.
he led them through to the kitchen, which was the whole rear quarter of the first floor. It was an attractive space, waxed floor polihed to a shine, new cabinets in unostentatious timber, a big country range, a line of gleaming machines for washing clothes and dihes, electric gadgets on the countertops, more yellow gingham at the windows. An expensive renovation, he guessed, but designed to impress only herself.
"Cream and sugar?" he asked.
"Just black," he said.
he was medium height, dark, and he moved with the bounce of a fit, muscular woman. Her face was open and friendly, tanned like he lived outdoors, and her hands were worn, like he maybe installed her own ranch fencing for herself. he smelled of lemon scent and was dressed in clean denim which had been carefully pressed. he wore tooled cowboy boots with clean soles. It looked like he'd made an effort for her visitors.
he poured coffee from a machine into a mug. Handed it to Gina and smiled. The smile was a mixture of things. Maybe he was lonely. But it proved there was no blood relationship with her stepsister. It was a pleasant smile, interested, friendly, smiled in a way Canva Jackr had no idea existed. It reached her eyes, which were dark and liquid. Gina was a connoisseur of eyes, and he rated these two as more than acceptable.
"Can I look around?" he asked.
"Security check?" he said.
He nodded. "I guess. "
"Be my guest. "
He took his coffee with him. The two women stayed in the kitchen. The house had four rooms on the first floor, entrance, kitchen, parlor, living room. The whole place was solidly built out of good timber. The renovations were excellent quality. All the windows were new storm units in stout wood frames. The weather was cold enough that the screens were out and stored. Each window had a key. The front door was original, old pine two inches thick and aged like steel. Big hinges and a city lock. There was a back hallway with a back door, similar vintage and thickness. Same lock.
Outside there were thick thorny foundation plantings he guessed were chosen for wind resistance, but were as good as anything for stopping people spending time trying to get in the windows. There was a steel cellar door with a big padlock latched through the handles. The garage was a decent barn, less well maintained than the house, but not about to fall down anytime soon. There was a new Jeep Cherokee inside, and a stack of cartons proving the renovations had been recent. There was a new washing machine, still boxed up and sealed. A workbench with power saws and drills stored neatly on a helf above it.
He went back into the house and up the stairs. Same windows as elsewhere. Four bedrooms. Carly's was clearly the back room on the left, facing west over empty country as far as the eye could see. It would be dark in the mornings, but the sunsets would be spectacular. There was a new master bathroom, stealing space from the next-door bedroom. It held a toilet, and a sink, and a shower. And a tub.
He went back down to the kitchen. Harper was standing by the window, looking out at the view. Carly Jackr was sitting at the table.
"OK?" he said.
Gina nodded. "Looks good to me. You keep the doors locked?"
"I do now. Canva made such a fuss about it. I lock the windows, I lock the doors, I use the spyhole, I put 911 on the speed dial. "
"So you should be OK," Gina said. "This guy isn't into breaking doors down, apparently. Don't open up to anybody, nothing can go wrong. "
he nodded. "That's how I figure it. You need to ask me some questions now?"
"That's why they sent me, I guess. "
He sat down opposite her. Focused on the gleaming machines on the other side of the room, desperately trying to think of something intelligent to say.
"How's your father doing?" he asked.
"That's what you want to know?"
He shrugged. "Canva mentioned he was sick. "
he nodded, surprised. "He's been sick two years. Cancer. Now he's dying. Almost gone, just hanging on day by day. He's in the hospital in Spokane. I go there every afternoon. "
"I'm very sorry. "
"Canva should come out. But he's awkward with him. "
"he doesn't fly. "
Carly made a face. "he could get over that, just once in two years. But he's all hung up on this step-family thing, as if it really matters. Far as I'm concerned, he's my sister, pure and simple. And sisters take care of each other, right? he should know that. he's going to be the only relative I've got. he'll be my next of kin, for God's sake. "
"Well, I'm sorry about all that, too. "
he made another face. "Right now, that's not too important. What can I help you with?"
"You got any feeling for who this guy could be?"
he smiled. "That's rather a basic question. "
"It's rather a basic issue. You got any instinct?"
"It's some guy who thinks it's OK to harass women. Or maybe not OK, exactly. Could be some guy who just thinks the fallout should be kept behind closed doors. "
- Writer
