He stood up and walked back to the parlor. Wade and Meg followed him from the dining room.
“’Course all this is merely speculation on my part,” Hollinger said as he bent down to retrieve his fingerprint kit. “This could have just as easy been the work of a couple of teenagers lookin’ for a bottle of booze.”
Finding a sudden need to restore her world, Meg asked if she could touch things in the room. Receiving the sheriff’s okay, she picked up a drawer, set it on top of the desk and began scooping papers from the floor and depositing them inside. When that drawer was full, she started on another. Wade and the sheriff went upstairs to check for prints and any clues they might have missed. When they returned, Hollinger emitted an audible yawn, announced it was midnight, and there wasn’t much more to be done till morning.
Wade passed a sympathetic gaze to Meg. “What do you want to do? I can secure the back door, but surely you don’t want to stay here by yourself.”
Hollinger quickly agreed. “Oh, no, ma’am. If these fellas tonight were lookin’ for money, they might come back.”
Meg hadn’t given serious thought to her living arrangements until now. What was she going to do? “I can’t leave the house unprotected,” she said. “And besides, there isn’t even a hotel in town.”
Sheriff Hollinger hunched one shoulder in a casual shrug. “That’s an easy solution,” he said. “Wade, you bought this place from Miz Ashford, right?”
Wade looked at Meg and then acknowledged the sheriff’s statement with a little nod.
“Well, then, move in. The sooner the better.”
Wade and Meg stared at each other.
“With her?” Wade said.
“With him?” Meg said.
Hollinger responded with a deep-down belly laugh. “It’s not as if there aren’t enough bedrooms in this danged old place. If you two aren’t exactly kissin’ neighbors, and I’ve heard you aren’t, then spread out.”
Meg’s head spun. She leaned against the desk. “Oh, Sheriff, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
Hollinger headed for the door but stopped and gave one last piece of advice to Meg. “Miss Hamilton, if you want to hold your auction and expect to have anything left to sell, you’d better listen to me.” His next warning was for Wade. “And son, if you want to protect your investment, you’d best go pack a suitcase. I don’t see any other answer to this problem.” He walked out the door. “Good night now.”
LEAVING MEG STANDING in numb silence, Wade followed the sheriff out the door. He caught up with Hollinger at the bottom of the steps and walked with him to his car. “About that suggestion you made,” Wade said. “I don’t think Miss Hamilton is going to go for it. You saw her reaction. I don’t know if you’ve heard what’s going on between us…”
Hollinger chuckled. “Just rumors. Something about deciding who owns this house. But with what went on here tonight, I don’t think either one of you should be worryin’ about who’s gonna end up with Ashford House. It makes more sense to concentrate your efforts on keeping this ol’ monster in one piece so at least one of you gets to live here.”
Wade had to acknowledge the wisdom of the sheriff’s words in his own mind, but he wasn’t at all sure that Meg would. “Do you have any ideas about who did this tonight?” he asked.
Bert opened his car door and leaned an elbow on the roof. “My guess is that it was a couple of the young punks from town, maybe with a few too many beers in them. They probably heard the stories about Stewart Ashford stashin’ money somewhere in these walls a long time ago. Probably heard it from their granddads who passed the tales down the generations. But this is a tough case, Wade. We might never catch the boys responsible.”
“Do you think they’ll strike again?”
“If they found the money, then no.” Bert leaned down and slid into his car. “Guess we could keep our eyes open for anybody spendin’ a little crazy in the next few days, though.”
Wade didn’t hold out much hope. Recently that description could fit Mrs. Ashford herself.
Bert gripped the steering wheel and stared at the house. “The problem is, this house is too good a target. She sits back from the road so there’d likely never be any witnesses to a break-in. And whoever wants to try it again doesn’t even have to come up the drive. They can just leave their car along the county road in some bushes to make a getaway easy.” He popped a toothpick into the corner of his mouth. “Nope, the only solution I can see is for you to move in. Tomorrow morning I’ll start spreading the word that the deputy sheriff is livin’ in Ashford House. That, and the sight of your patrol car in the drive is the best way I know of to protect this house and Miss Hamilton’s chances for a good auction.”
He started the engine. “But you two do what you want. If you don’t move in, then you and I will do what we can as a two-man department, but it might not be enough. Now I’m goin’ home. I still have a report to fill out.”
He shut the door, turned the car around and headed down the drive. Wade walked back to the house and noticed that Meg had come outside and was sitting on the top porch step. He sat down beside her and waited for her to express her opposition to Bert’s plan.
“That was quite a suggestion from Sheriff Hollinger, wasn’t it?” she said, sitting up straight. “Imagine, you and I sharing this house.”
He sat back and narrowed his eyes, pretending to be shocked. “What? You don’t think that’s a good idea?”
Her jaw dropped and she gave him an incredulous stare. “Well, no, of course not.”
“Funny. I was just about to ask you if Mrs. Ashford had a new toothbrush anywhere inside.”
“You can’t be serious. You and I hardly know each other.”
“So you’ve mentioned once before.” He looked out over the front lawn and let a small grin precede his words. “I’m thinking we can change that.” He spared her a quick glance. “In fact, I thought we’d already made some significant strides in that direction.”
She huffed a little bit, a series of slightly frustrated sounds, but she didn’t show the indignation he might have expected from her. “This is a small town, Wade. What will people say?”
“Not much, considering I’ll be moving in with Pop and Jenny.”
“Oh. How do you think Jenny will like that?”
“Since she’ll be about fifty yards from her horse, I don’t see a problem. And to tell you the truth, I think she’ll welcome some female companionship. She’s at that age where she believes nobody understands her.”
Meg smiled. “She’s a teenager. No one does understand her.”
“So, we’re agreed? This is the plan?”
Meg’s eyes held a hint of teasing when she said, “Just one more thing. Are you going to hit me with some obscure law about possession being nine-tenths of the law or some such nonsense?”
He placed one booted foot on a higher step and draped his arm over his knee. “Hey, that’s not a bad idea.”
“Right. And then I’d never get rid of you.”
Far from taking offense, Wade was glad that Meg could laugh after the night’s ordeal. “Look,” he said. “It’s up to you. I’ll admit I’m a little worried about something like this happening again, and frankly, once I start working on the house, I’m not too crazy about the idea that somebody might come in and destroy my efforts. But you’re the one who’s staying here, so it’s got to be your decision.” He looked over his shoulder and into the foyer where debris still littered the floor. “Do you really want to stay here by yourself?”
She stared at him a good long time before releasing a huge sigh and dropping her forehead onto the heel of her hand. “Oh, why did this have to happen?”
“Because your uncle was a crafty old buzzard while he lived who left a Paul-Bunyan-heap of folklore behind when he died.”
“So, even Uncle Stewie…he’s just like all the others.”
She’d spoken so softly he had to lean in to hear her. “What’s that?”
“Nothing.�
�� She waved off his question even though she proceeded to answer it. “This may come as a surprise to you, Wade, but I’ve never been able to rely a whole lot on the men in my life.”
He cupped a hand around her arm. “This may come as a surprise to you, Meg, but some men actually are reliable.” When her lips turned up in the slightest suggestion of a smile, he added, “I’m not going to steal your house, Meg, if legally it is yours. But I am going to own it if the law says it’s mine. No games, no gimmicks, no cons.” He squeezed her arm, a gesture that was as intimate as it was protective. “But right now, I just want to keep what’s mine, or yours, from being destroyed, and maybe keep you safe while you’re staying here, too.”
He reached in his pocket and took out his cell phone. “Now, I’ve got to call Pop. He always waits up for me when I’ve got night duty, but it’s nearly one o’clock, and I’m testing his endurance. Do I tell him I’ll be home in a couple of minutes, or do I say I’ll see him in the morning?”
She leaned against the post of the railing and looked at him, her eyes luminous in the porch light. For a moment he considered that tears might be shimmering in her eyes. But then she blinked hard and ran her fingertips over her cheekbones. “I don’t want to stay here alone,” she said on a trembling rush of air.
He punched the button to his home. “Hey, Pop, we had a little problem tonight. I’m going to be out all night.” In answer to his father’s question he said, “No, nothing too serious. I’ll give you the details in the morning. You’ll see that Jen gets on the bus? Thanks.”
He disconnected, turned to Meg and said, “Now, where’s that toothbrush?”
AFTER PUTTING MEG’S BED BACK on the frame, Wade announced that he’d sleep on the parlor sofa just in case there was trouble during the night. They cleaned up enough debris to make him comfortable, and then Meg brought him a pillow and blanket and a tray with a snack.
“If you’re not careful, you’ll end up spoiling me,” he teased after consuming half a bowl of chowder.
“I think it’s the other way around,” Meg said. “You’re the one bunking on the sofa.” She fluffed his pillow, a small gesture meant to convey at least a little of her gratitude. “I really appreciate this, Wade,” she added. “I know I wouldn’t sleep all night if you hadn’t offered to stay.”
“Hey, don’t mention it. We’re both concerned about protecting what will eventually belong to one of us.”
That was true, but deep down Meg knew Wade was protecting her as well, and it felt good, this being able to depend on a man—to know she wasn’t facing her fear alone.
He stretched his back muscles and sank onto the sofa. Meg knew he had to be tired. She was, and she hadn’t put her life on the line. “Anyway, thanks again,” she said and turned toward the stairs.
“Sleep well, Meg,” he said softly. “And if you’re worried that you’ll find me in a state of indiscretion in the morning, don’t be. I’ll wait to sleep in my skivvies until I get a bedroom.”
He pulled his boot off and wiggled his toes inside his sock. “I don’t suppose the sight of my naked foot will have any effect on you.”
She smiled. “No, I don’t think so.”
He chuckled and slipped off the sock. “Darn. That’s what I thought you’d say.”
Meg was still smiling minutes later when she crawled into bed.
CHAPTER TEN
THE NEXT MORNING, Meg came into the dining room with two tall glasses of lemonade. She set hers down on the buffet and waited as Roone Murdock swept bits of broken glass into a dustpan. Once he’d emptied the trash into a garbage can, she said, “Excuse me, Mr. Murdock, I brought you something to cool off.”
He stood the broom against the side of the dining table and accepted the drink. “Call me Roone. It is mighty hot today. This’ll hit the spot.”
Meg surveyed the nearly clean floor with an appreciative gaze. Wade’s father may not stand as straight and tall as some men his age, but any physical limitations weren’t evident in his efforts this morning. He’d done more in the last two hours than she could have done in twice that time. The dining room was almost back to pre-break-in condition. Now only the auction chaos prevailed along with Amelia’s odd purchases.
“I can’t tell you how grateful I am for your help,” Meg said. “When Wade left for work this morning and told me you were coming over, I was quite relieved.” Deciding Roone would appreciate an honest admission, she added, “I wasn’t looking forward to being in the house alone. I’m sure in a day or two, when the shock of what happened has passed…”
Roone waved off her explanation. “No need for thanks. It’s not easy getting over what went on here last night. Besides, I can’t abide a mess, and sorry to say, this place can use more than one pair of hands to put it back together.”
She smiled. “You’re right about that.”
“Imagine somebody thinking there’s a fortune hidden in this house.” He gestured toward the china cupboard where Amelia’s silver still lay in disarray. “If you ask me, there’s the fortune. Your burglars walked out on antique pieces which must be worth a bundle.” With a chuckle he lifted the lid on one of the packing boxes and picked up a porcelain statue of a dragon with shiny gold teeth. “And they passed up a unique item like this.”
Meg laughed at both the gaudy decoration and Roone’s sarcasm. “I know what you mean. Whoever broke in here must not be the art connoisseur my Aunt Amelia is.” Assuming Wade had told Roone about Stewart Ashford’s eccentricities she said, “I suppose money could be hidden somewhere. This house has an interesting history and because of that, it now has a certain appeal to members of the community, as we found out last night.”
Roone glanced up at the cracked ceiling plaster. “I guess it has an appeal to my son, too. I’ve put some sweat into this house, but Wade has put both sweat and cash.”
“Yes, I know he has.”
Roone set down his empty glass and picked up the broom. “When I’m done here, I’ll start on the rooms upstairs.”
Meg didn’t know if Roone disapproved of the sheriff’s suggestion that they all live together, but she sensed maybe he did. Or that he would if he suspected Wade had moved in for any reason other than to protect the property.
Once Roone had begun sweeping again, he said, “So, do you have any idea how this predicament is going to work out?”
Meg wasn’t certain if he was referring to the ownership of Ashford House or their current living arrangements. Luckily, Roone cleared up any misinterpretation by continuing.
“For some reason, Wade really wanted this place the minute he saw it.” He bent over and scooped up more pieces of ceramic glass. “I’ll say one thing for Wade. When he says he’s going to make changes in his life, he’s not kidding.”
Meg began putting Amelia’s silver back in order in the china cupboard. “You mean when he left Brooklyn?”
“Yep. One day he was reading an employment ad in a police publication, and the next he announced he’d filled out a job application for Mount Esther, Florida.”
Meg dusted the top of a teakettle. “That must have been a big step for him.”
“It was. But he said he had to start over, get out of Brooklyn.”
When the sweeping stopped, Meg looked over her shoulder. Roone was leaning on the broom handle and shaking his head. His brown eyes reflected a profound sadness. “Maybe Wade took a liking to this place because he’d never lived in a real house before. He and his wife lived in an old brownstone flat only three blocks from the fast-food joint where it happened.”
“Where what happened?” Meg asked.
“Wade went inside to pick up an order. Brenda waited outside with Jenny since the place was crowded. It was a Friday night. A car went by with a bunch of punks inside. Two of them had guns. They both fired. The kid standing next to Brenda was killed. He was the target. Brenda was killed, too. She took a stray bullet straight into her heart.”
Meg grasped the top of a cupboard door and held on. She felt
as if the floor were collapsing beneath her. “My God…”
“I give Wade credit, though. He stuck it out two more years until the punks were caught, tried and sentenced. Said he had to see it through to the end.”
Meg couldn’t even imagine the horror of sitting through the trial of anyone who had perpetrated such an unconscionable act. Didn’t Wade want to forget he was a cop and seek revenge in his own way? And how did he explain such a senseless act of violence to his daughter?
And yet, just two days ago, Wade had stood in the town center with a horse and answered questions from curious, giggling children. Wade Murdock was a nice guy, a seemingly normal man. Who knew he’d suffered something so devastating it would drive most normal men over the edge.
Sometime in the last moments, Roone had resumed sweeping again, though Meg hadn’t noticed until he spoke. “Yep, Wade set his sights on this place practically when we first got here. He’s worked on it nearly every day since making the deal to buy it and to lease the property to board Jenny’s horse. This house has become something of a mission to my son, as if it’s the glue that’s going to hold us together.”
Meg picked up the next piece of silver and began polishing, grateful she had something to hold on to, something to think about other than the graphic details of the tragedy in Wade’s life. “This house is special,” she said. “It has meant a great deal to many people, but I’m not sure even Ashford House can accomplish what your son expects it to.”
“I’M TELLING YOU Meggie, you should just get in your car and head back home.”
For the first time in maybe ever, Jerry was actually taking one of Meg’s problems seriously. In fact, later that afternoon when she’d finally had time to call him and explain what happened, she’d detected something almost like real concern in his voice. “I can’t do that, Jerry,” she said. “Aunt Amelia’s counting on me. I’ve decided to hold the auction a week from Saturday, and I need to get every item catalogued, run ads in the papers, make flyers….”
Your House or Mine? Page 12