“I’ll keep that in mind.” He cocked his head, a slow grin coming on. “Take care, Maddox.”
Take care?
I threw my hands up in the air, my mouth dropped wide open, but he never saw. He’d already turned to stroll up the garden path and, apparently, see himself out.
Seriously, sometimes I didn’t know why I bothered!
∞∞∞
It was another week before my life returned to its new version of semi-normal. My little yellow bug was parked beneath the shade of the papery birch outside and I was once again ensconced at Hollow House with nothing much to do.
I wasn’t totally idle, though. I shot a couple of quick photos of the house with my phone camera. And one perfect long angle view that clipped the terrace in with the sun setting over the lake.
Amazingly, the HollowHouse domain was still available and I snapped it up in Mr Hollow’s name. And okay, the domain name was probably the best thing about the crappy blog I put together, but anything was better than nothing at all.
Once Mr Hollow got over the shock of being radically exposed to every loony goon and misbegotten thud on the planet (his words, not mine), I’d broach the subject of hiring a professional.
Burns helpfully supplied a descriptive list of our guest suites and accommodations.
Mr Hollow had, somewhat less helpfully, looked over my shoulder at the final result and prodded a finger at the screen. “I don’t like that.”
I looked at where he was pointing and rolled my eyes before looking up over my shoulder. “That’s our address. How else are people supposed to find us?”
“I don’t like it.” He harrumphed. “We’ll have all sorts descending on us out of the blue.”
“So long as they’re willing to pay the going rate,” I declared with a stubborn edge to my tone, “let them descend.”
“Well, I hope you know what you’re doing,” he said with a scowl that read, You have no idea what you’re doing, young missy.
I shrugged for lack of a better argument.
Of course I had no idea what I was doing.
I was sitting out on the porch steps the next day, tweaking the blog and attempting to guess the distance to the start of the nearest hiking trail in the foothills across the valley road, when Joe rocked up on my doorstep with his bags.
By rocked up, I meant he was driven up in one of those suburban mommy wagons.
And by bags, I meant two enormous trunks, each the size of a mini U-Haul trailer. Okay, a slight exaggeration, with emphasis on the slight.
I set my laptop down behind the railing and stood to watch as Joe and the driver lugged the trunks out from the back of the wagon and deposited them at the foot of the porch steps.
Joe glanced up at me, hair flopping over his brow, tall and lanky and all puppy-dog cute. “Hi, Maddie.”
“Moving in?” I joked.
Turns out, the joke was on me.
“I handed in the keys to the apartment this morning.” He gestured at the larger of the trunks. “That one’s yours.”
“Wait a minute,” I gulped. “You’re not serious! You can’t stay here.”
“The shares you invested here belong to both of us, Maddie, and if you get free Jack Daniels and board, then so do I.” His uncertain smile fractured into a very decided frown. “I have no place else to go.”
“What about your Uncle Marcus?” I demanded.
It was a valid question.
Joe’s parents had died in a car crash when he was twelve and his Uncle Marcus had raised him. His Uncle Marcus also lived in a brownstone in Brooklyn, which was a lot closer to the city than Silver Firs.
“I’m not moving back home with my tail between my legs,” Joe said flatly.
“He’s going to find out sooner or later that your marriage failed and you’re broke.”
“But he doesn’t need to know why.”
My gaze sharpened on him. “Why your marriage failed?”
“Why I’m broke, Maddie.”
Okay, crap. Joe didn’t want to rat me out to Uncle Marcus.
Still, this was ridiculous. “You hate Silver Firs.”
“And as soon as we dump these shares and get our money back, I’m out of here,” Joe assured me.
The driver stood forward, fiddling with the beak of his cap. “Do you need help with your luggage, Sir?”
“Yes, please.” Joe went to take one end of the trunk. “Would you mind getting the door?” he called up to me. “Thanks.”
I didn’t get the door.
Panic set in, rooting me to the spot as I watched the two men heave the larger trunk off the ground.
No, no, no, this hadn’t been part of the plan.
Not that there’d been a plan.
You know what I mean!
… Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this first book in my Maddox Storm Cozy Mystery series. Please don’t forget to give this book a quick review on Amazon if you’re able. Even just a couple of words, “Liked it” or “Not for me” reviews help so much. I’m grateful for all feedback from my readers, good or bad. You can click here to go to the Amazon page to leave your review.
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Worst Laid Plans (A Maddox Storm Mystery Book 1) Page 19