Myths, Murder & Love

Chapter 18

“I stopped the cart. Called his name.” Evan sniffed and wiped his nose again. “Then I saw the blood.”

“Did you touch anything?” Leon pretended to write something down on the notepad.

“Just Jake. I checked his neck for a pulse.” Evan's mouth tightened. “I knew he was dead. I knew it, but I checked anyway.”

“That was the right thing to do.” He made another pretend notation on the paper.

Evan stared toward the fountain. “He was my friend.”

Leon waited.

Evan's eyes filled again. “I worked for him, but he was my friend.”

Leon watched the water fall over the edge of the upper lily pad shape in the fountain, giving Evan a moment. “How long have you worked here?”

“Almost five years.”

Leon let that settle before continuing. “Was there any reason Jake would have been here last night?”

Evan nodded immediately. “The cereus.”

He pointed toward the white blossoms near the fountain.

“They opened last night. Jake had been waiting weeks for it. He said he was staying to photograph them.”

Leon glanced toward Jake’s phone lying in the dirt. “Was anyone supposed to meet him?”

Evan shook his head. “Not that he told me.”

Leon gave him a moment. “Was Jake having trouble with anyone?”

Evan shook his head, then stopped.

Leon caught the hesitation. “You thought of someone.”

Evan wiped beneath his nose again. “Samuel Handson.”

“What about him?” This time Leon did write down the name.

“They had an argument.” Evan paused, uncertain.

Leon waited.

Evan looked uncomfortable. “A bad one. A couple days before I came home. Jake told me about it when I got back.”

“What were they arguing about?”

“Land. Mr Handson owns the property next to this place. Jake wanted to buy it so he could expand the native plant section.”

Evan pushed his glasses higher and looked toward the fountain.

“They've been talking about it forever. Jake said every time he thought they were getting close, Mr Handson wanted more money.”

“Did Jake tell you what was said?” Leon made another note.

“Not all of it.” Evan hesitated. “But I heard part of another argument yesterday.”

Leon's attention sharpened. “Here?”

Evan nodded. “Mr Handson came by yesterday afternoon. I was unloading in the greenhouse. I couldn't hear everything.”

“What did you hear?”

Evan swallowed. “Mr Handson said Jake was running out of time. Jake told him he wasn't paying that much and if somebody else wanted the property so badly, Samuel should sell it to them.”

“Anything else?”

Evan's eyes filled again. “Samuel said Jake was going to regret making this difficult.”

Leon let the words sit between them.

“Did he threaten Jake?”

Evan shook his head quickly. “Not like that. I didn't think it was a threat yesterday.”

His gaze drifted toward the fountain. “It just sounds different now.”

Back at the Stone House, Thallia woke alone.

Sunlight slipped through the bedroom curtains, bright enough to tell her she'd slept much later than usual.

Her first thought was Leon. Thallia stared at the ceiling. That was becoming a problem.

She wondered whether he was still at Crossing River Nursery. Whether they'd identified the dead man. Whether Leon had slept at all after leaving her.

She pushed back the blankets. She had known the man for two days.

Two days.

Trevor had entered her life gradually too. First a toothbrush, then a few shirts and eventually a key. His things had mixed with hers until she'd stopped noticing how much of her life she'd allowed him to occupy.

She wasn't making that mistake again.

Thallia showered in the bathroom adjoining her bedroom, then stood in front of the clothes Jenna had made for her.

She chose one of the new outfits, casual linen pants and a pink linen top. After dressing, she pulled her hair back.

Today she was going to concentrate on herself.

Her new life in her new house.

The thought followed her down the hall. Her house.

She hadn't really looked at the Stone House that way before.

Since arriving, she'd been surrounded by questions. Evalyn. The inheritance. Olympia Springs. Leon. Then a murder.

Now, she had the house completely to herself and nowhere she had to be.

Thallia wandered. Not inspecting exactly. Just looking.

She moved through rooms she'd passed without noticing before, opening a cupboard here and a door there. Evalyn was everywhere, but not in the way Thallia expected.

These weren't simply the belongings of the grandmother she remembered. They were pieces of a woman who had built an entire life here.

In the library, Thallia stopped.

A large desk occupied one side of the room, and sitting on it was a computer setup far more sophisticated than anything she'd expected to find in her great-grandmother's house.

Thallia stepped closer. The equipment beside it looked like everything necessary for satellite internet.

“Well, Grandma. You were full of surprises.”

She'd need to reset the computer before she could use it, but that was hardly a problem. Her father could probably talk her through anything she couldn't figure out herself.

More importantly, it meant she could work from here.

Thallia rested her fingertips against the desk. She could research from Olympia Springs. Conduct interviews. Write articles, edit photographs, then send the files.

She didn't need Chicago to be a journalist.

That thought stayed with her as she continued through the house. A door near the kitchen led to stairs that descended into the cellar.

The cellar was cool and dry. Thallia reached the bottom and stopped.

Shelves covered the walls, stretching farther into the cellar than Thallia had expected.

Rows of glass jars held fruits, vegetables, sauces, jams, and foods she couldn't immediately identify. Beyond them were shelves of other stored goods, all arranged with the same careful order Evalyn seemed to have brought to everything in the house.

There was far more here than the remains of one summer's garden.

Another section held empty jars arranged by size, ready to be used again. A large canner sat on a worktable beside equipment Thallia vaguely remembered seeing Evalyn use when she was younger.

Thallia slowly took in the cellar.

This wasn't a collection of forgotten food pushed onto basement shelves. Evalyn had maintained it. Used it. Replaced it. Whatever system she'd followed, the cellar had clearly been part of the way she lived.

Her gaze settled on the empty jars waiting for another harvest.

Evalyn hadn't simply planted a garden. She had made use of everything it gave her.

Thallia smiled.

If she planted one herself, she was going to have to learn a few things.

At the far end of the cellar, another set of shelves caught her attention.

Thallia stepped closer and ran her fingers along a row of worn leather spines. There had to be dozens of them, all different sizes and ages.

She pulled one from the shelf and carefully opened it to the first page.

It was a journal. The handwriting was Evalyn's. Thallia recognized it immediately.

The words were another matter because they were Greek. At least she thought it was Greek.

Thallia turned another page. “Seriously, Grandma?”

She returned the journal to its place.

Whatever Evalyn had written, she had wanted someone to work hard to get it. Thallia wasn't doing that today. But she would.

She went back upstairs and made a quick breakfast sandwich, wrapping it so she could eat on the road.

Then she stepped outside. The tree caught her attention first. She stood beneath it for a moment, looking up through the branches before continuing around the house.

Behind it, the garden waited.

The beds were still clearly defined from the previous year. A small shed stood nearby, and when Thallia opened it, she found hand tools hanging neatly along one wall and a garden tiller tucked toward the back.

There was even a gas can, which was empty, naturally.

Thallia laughed. “You couldn't make this completely easy?”

She stepped back outside and looked across the garden.

She could already imagine it filled with vegetables and herbs, green and growing instead of waiting beneath the spring sun. She didn't know yet what grew best here or when everything needed to be planted, but she could figure it out.

The thought made her smile. She could learn.

Coming around the front of the house, she noticed the large empty pots beside the porch steps. Only the dry remains of last year's plants were left behind.

The empty pots beside the porch needed flowers, and the garden wasn't going to plant itself. Between fuel for the tiller, gardening supplies, and a few groceries, she had more than enough reason to make a trip into town.

And she knew exactly where to buy the plants.

Crossing River Nursery.

Thallia looked toward the road where Leon was. She folded her arms. That had nothing to do with anything.

She needed plants. Crossing River Nursery sold plants. Driving all the way into Moab just to avoid a man would hardly qualify as independence.

If anything, that would mean Leon was influencing her decisions.

Thallia smiled despite herself. Nice try. Her gaze returned to the Stone House.

The old stone walls. The porch and tree with garden waiting behind it.

Inside was everything she needed to keep writing, while the garden offered something entirely different to build with her own hands. Even the cellar, with Evalyn's shelves and canning equipment, felt less like something she'd inherited and more like an invitation to learn.

Looking over her new home Thallia could picture herself doing more than staying in the Stone House. She could picture living here.

Down the road was a ridiculously attractive sheriff she couldn't seem to stop thinking about.

Thallia drew in a slow breath. Chicago had stopped feeling like home before she'd ever left it.

This didn't. She wasn't ready to understand why. But standing in front of the Stone House, Thallia knew one thing with startling certainty.

She wanted to stay.

The realization should have frightened her. Instead, it felt like a decision. Thallia went inside for her purse and keys.

She had a garden to plant.