by Rebecca Deel
Back in her car, she ate one of the bananas before leaving the parking lot, then drove to the house. Mrs. Watson was already parked on the street in front of the house. Probably anxious to unload the place before Darcy came to her senses and changed her mind. She studied the dilapidated exterior of the house in the morning light. No question, this was going to take a lot of work, but she was determined to bring this house back to life and create a home for herself in the process.
Darcy grabbed her green tea and climbed from the car. Mrs. Watson greeted her cheerfully.
“How are you today, my dear? Ready to sign the papers?”
“I’d suggest going inside to sign them, but I doubt we could find a flat surface.”
“Why don’t we sit here in my car? Use my briefcase for a table.”
She grinned. Kept the older woman from having to brave the house again. She didn’t blame her. That place was an accident waiting to happen. Well, not for much longer. Once Brian had those Dumpsters delivered, she’d start with the lighter items. She just hoped Trent came back soon. Otherwise, she’d be stuck with the lighter stuff for a long time. “Sounds good.”
She got into the passenger side of the car and sipped her tea while Mrs. Watson organized all the papers for Darcy to sign. Thirty minutes later, she was a first-time home owner.
“The paperwork will be finalized in a week. In the meantime, feel free to start the cleaning process.”
Remembering her promise to Detective Santana, she asked, “Mrs. Watson, do you know if the back door was locked yesterday when we left the house?”
“I’m sure it was. I always double-check doors before I leave. Why?”
“A friend and I stopped by here last night and saw someone in the house.”
The older woman’s eyes widened. “Did you call the police?”
“We reported it, but Detective Santana didn’t find much.” At least not that she knew. Darcy intended to ask him if he’d discovered anything when she saw him today.
“Nick’s a good detective. If there was anything to find, believe me, he’d uncover it. He’s married to Madison, one of the Cahill sisters. She owns the knitting shop. It’s also part of the bookstore.”
Her eyebrows rose. “That’s an interesting combination.”
“It works for her and Del, her sister-in-law.”
“Do you know why anyone would want to break into the house, Mrs. Watson?”
“Oh, I imagine it’s just kids. Once you move in, I’m sure they’ll stay away. This is a very safe neighborhood.” She stopped abruptly. “Usually.”
“Usually?” That didn’t sound good. “Did something happen that’s an exception?”
“Oh, well, I guess I neglected to tell you. The previous owner of your house was murdered.”
CHAPTER SIX
“Murdered?” Darcy’s stomach clenched. “Yeah, you did forget to mention that. When did this happen?”
“Two or three years ago, about three months before Ethan Blackhawk was hired as the police chief.”
“Please tell me the police arrested her killer.”
Mrs. Watson’s expression grew troubled. “I wish I could. The police never discovered who killed Gretchen Bond.”
Fantastic. Something else for her and Trent to worry over. She definitely needed an alarm system. Brent Maddox could install the system for her. Perhaps he’d offer a discount. She made a mental note to call him soon. Knowing someone couldn’t sneak up on her during the night and soothing her brother’s overly protective tendencies made the price of the system well worth the cost.
“Congratulations on your fine purchase. I’m sure you’ll have many years of happiness in this genteel beauty.”
Right. After she gutted the thing. She needed to clear the place soon. Her piano was in controlled-temperature storage and she missed playing. “Thanks for your help, Mrs. Watson.”
“Happy to help, Ms. St. Claire.” She handed over the keys and Darcy’s copy of the paperwork. “I’m sure I’ll see you around town. Have a good day, now.”
Darcy climbed from the car, tea and paperwork in hand. The real estate agent waved as she drove away, leaving her standing in front of a disaster of a home. A lot of work lay ahead, but it was all hers. Well, hers and Trent’s when he wasn’t deployed and wanted to visit. Her brother had his own apartment in Nashville where Fortress Security’s headquarters was located.
At that moment, trucks carrying her Dumpsters arrived and the drivers unloaded the large metal bins in her front yard. Brian must have put some serious pressure on the company to have the containers delivered this fast. Time to start shoveling out her house.
Darcy glanced down at her bare hands, sighed. No clearing out garbage without gloves. Who knew what she would be touching? With so much debris piled in the place, there must be whole colonies of spiders in every room. Wearing gloves for hours beat dealing with spider bites and hospital visits. As she cranked her car and turned on the heater, her cell phone rang. She glanced at the screen, smiled. Doesn’t mean anything, she cautioned herself. Just a new friend checking on her. “Good morning, Rio.”
“How was your night?”
“Uneventful or I would have called.”
“Have you started bulldozing the house?”
“Not yet. I need to buy gloves. I was afraid to clean without protection for my hands.”
“Smart. You should buy dust masks, too.”
Huh. Hadn’t thought about that. “Good idea.”
“Would you like help?”
“I can buy supplies on my own.”
Rio chuckled. “Would you like help clearing the house?”
A surge of excitement swept through Darcy. “If you can spare some time, I’d appreciate an extra pair of hands. My store contractor had three large Dumpsters delivered to my front lawn. I’m afraid my house will be the neighborhood eyesore for a while.”
“Fast work with the Dumpsters. Buy a lot of gloves and dust masks. I’m bringing a few friends with me.”
Fantastic. The more people who came, the faster this part of the project would be finished and Brian Elliott could start the house rehab. “I don’t know how to thank you, Rio.”
“We’ll meet you at the house in thirty minutes.”
She slid her phone into her pocket and drove to the hardware store she’d seen in the town square. She wandered the aisles until she found rubber gloves. After a debate with herself, she chose neoprene gloves, figuring they would be snug enough to make grasping smaller items easier. Darcy also bought dust masks. She didn’t want her volunteers to become ill. Not knowing how many people were coming, she bought several boxes of gloves and every dust mask the store stocked, then carried the bags to her car and returned to the house.
As she pulled into the driveway, several SUVs arrived and parked along the street. Men and women climbed from the vehicles. Darcy’s mouth gaped. Good grief! She’d been expecting a handful of volunteers.
The man in question walked up the driveway and opened her door. “Great timing. Nate’s bringing lunch in a couple hours to feed this crew.”
“Rio, who are all these people?”
“Bodyguard trainees from Personal Security International, the business my teammates and I run. We train bodyguards for Fortress and other private contractors. Clearing your house is their physical training today.”
Her eyes stung. “How can I ever thank you?”
“By agreeing to a second date.” The medic smiled.
Seriously? Oh, man. She hoped he didn’t realize how thrilled she was at the prospect of spending more time with him. “I would love that.” She hadn’t had time for many dates over the years. Her concert schedule had prevented a serious dating relationship.
“Hey, a beautiful woman’s been in town for one day and you’ve already staked a claim?” A blond-haired man scowled at Rio, arms folded across his massive chest. “How is that fair?”
Rio turned his head and winked at her. “Darcy, this is one of my teammates, Quinn Ga
llagher. Quinn, Darcy St. Claire.”
“Nice to meet you, Darcy. Dump my former friend and run away with me.”
The medic scowled at his friend. “Knock it off.”
“Quinn acting out again?” A dark-haired man walked up to them, a half smile on his face.
“I’m misunderstood,” Quinn protested.
“Right.” The newcomer turned his dark gaze on Darcy. “I’m Alex Morgan, another of Rio’s teammates. You must be Darcy.”
“You’re Durango’s sniper.”
His face lost all expression. “That’s right.”
Must be a sensitive subject for him. She imagined the general public might have problems with Alex’s job. Not Darcy. She knew from listening to her brother how many lives men like Alex saved every day in battle. “Trent’s talked about you. He respects your skills.” She smiled. “My brother also mentioned you’re a newlywed. Congratulations on your marriage.”
Alex’s eyes lit. “I’m so blessed to have Ivy in my life.”
Maybe someday she’d have a husband who felt that way about her.
“Where are the gloves and masks, Darcy?” Rio asked.
“Back seat. I hope I bought enough supplies.”
“If we need more, we’ll send someone to the hardware store.”
“Not for masks,” she muttered. “I bought them out.”
Rio chuckled. “We’ll send Quinn to Cherry Hill if we need more.”
“Let’s get moving,” Quinn said. “Four people to a room, Darcy?”
“Sounds good.” Actually, it sounded like a dream come true. This many people would make a serious dent in the Victorian house.
“Start on the first floor,” Rio said. He looked at Darcy. “Any room you don’t want them to clear?”
“The master bedroom on the second floor. Can’t miss it. The room has hundreds of beautiful candles along the walls that I want to keep.” She’d be ready for power outages for years to come.
“Any special instructions for other items?”
Darcy thought about the contents of the house. She hated to throw everything away if something could be used elsewhere. “The clothes and shoes should go to a shelter along with the items in the downstairs bathroom. The books go to the bookstore if your friend wants them. Everything else can be pitched into the bins.”
“Easy enough.” Quinn whistled to capture the trainees’ attention and gave them instructions. Rio and Alex handed out gloves and masks. Within minutes, the recruits were making trips to the Dumpsters.
“Where do you want to start?” Rio asked her.
“Living room. I need space for my piano.”
“How much room?”
She smiled, picturing her beautiful seven-foot polished ebony Steinway. “It’s a seven-foot grand.”
“Let’s get to work, then.”
They joined four others engaged in gathering piles of magazines, clothes, and shoes. The recruits had already cleared a fifth of the room and begun stacking things to distribute as she’d directed. The stacks grew at an alarming rate. Wouldn’t be long before the piles became hazardous towers again. She frowned. There had to be a more efficient way to deal with this. Boxes. That’s what she needed for the donated items. Where would she find boxes?
“Rio, I need boxes for the items to give away. Would the grocery store have empty boxes or the hardware store?”
“Josh should be up soon. I’ll have him pick up boxes and bring them. When we fill them, he can drop them off. In the meantime, stack the items to give away on the porch. That way the clutter will be outside instead of a tripping hazard.”
She eyed the waist-high stacks. “Are you sure the neighbors won’t mind?”
“We’ll clear the stacks outside at the end of the day.”
For the next hour, she and Rio worked side by side. Satisfaction filled her as the clear floor space expanded. Clothes, shoes, and books were relocated to the porch. They found more towels and washcloths. Most of those, however, were in bad shape. One look had Darcy tossing them in the nearest metal bin.
To her astonishment, the Dumpster was nearly full. Incredible what many willing hands could do in a short amount of time. She found the paperwork the truck drivers had given her and called to arrange for new bins the next morning.
As she ended the call, another vehicle parked behind hers. From the porch, Rio said, “Need help unloading, Nate?”
“Yep. Hoagies all around and a salad for Darcy.”
A salad? Not that she minded, but why was she singled out for a salad? She turned to look at Rio, her eyebrow raised.
“He brought the salad at my request, Darcy.”
“Why?”
“I did some research online last night. Just try the salad. I’ll talk to you later about things that might help with your health.”
He’d left her at the motel and gone home to research Sjogren’s Syndrome? “I thought you were going home to sleep last night.”
“I did.”
She scowled. “How much? An hour?”
“Four hours. It was enough.”
And he was here? “You should be taking a nap, not clearing my house.”
He just smiled and introduced her to Nate Armstrong, another member of Durango.
“I can help you carry lunch inside the house.”
“Thanks, Darcy. Rio, grab the coolers. I brought enough water and soft drinks to get us through lunch. I’ll head to the grocery store and restock afterward.”
Darcy’s eyes widened. How long were they planning to stay? If they continued pitching at the same rate, the place would be clean within a few days.
The medic reached into the back of the SUV and lifted a large blue and white cooler. “How’s Stella?”
“Tanned, relaxed, and all mine. She’s doing a ride-along with Rod today. My wife can’t wait to return to work. She’s looking forward to carrying an OCPD badge.”
Rio laughed. “Marriage looks good on you, my friend. How is Stella’s wrist?”
“Itching like crazy.”
“Normal. Sounds like her break is mending.”
Nate grabbed several bags of hoagies and strode into the house with Darcy and Rio at his heels. He glanced around. “Table?”
“Check the kitchen,” Darcy said. “I can’t guarantee it’s clear.”
He set his bags on the floor. “Which way?”
“Straight back and turn right.”
When he returned, he said, “Table’s clear and there’s a decent path. Let’s set up in there. The recruits can spread out wherever there’s a spot to eat.”
Five minutes later, the wrapped hoagies were arranged on the table and the coolers were lined up against beautiful cabinets Darcy hadn’t noticed earlier.
While Nate strode to the stairway and gave a piercing whistle to call the hungry volunteers to lunch, Rio handed Darcy a chef salad in a plastic container along with plastic utensils.
Wow. Lots of protein, almost no cheese, lightly drizzled with salad dressing. Interesting, but beautiful. “It looks great.”
“You’re not angry?” he asked, voice soft, worry in his brown eyes.
“I’m touched you would forgo sleep to research ways to help me.” She was also aggravated with herself for not thinking to do the same thing. Her only excuse was she’d wrapped up her last concert four weeks ago, and spent the remaining time dealing with her apartment and agent. Allen White was not happy with her retirement decision and fought her for six months, right up until her final concert. He would have accepted the news easier if she’d told him about her diagnosis. She’d refused, knowing her agent would have politicized it. Darcy didn’t want pity. Besides, she had been thinking about calling it quits for two years. Her touring schedule was brutal and she wanted a life beyond the spotlight, one with a man who captured her heart.
Relief flooded Rio’s face. “Good. I’ll tell you what I learned on our second date.”
Butterflies took flight in her stomach. “Deal.”
The traine
es trooped into the kitchen and formed a line. Once they selected a hoagie, a bag of chips, and a drink, they scattered throughout the house. The buzz of laughter and conversation was pleasant to hear in the old house and reminded her of better days in the St. Claire household.
Rio cleared a chair for Darcy and seated her at the table with a bottle of water, then commandeered another chair for himself and unwrapped his sandwich.
Must be something about soft drinks that Rio wanted her to avoid. Wonder if green tea was good for her? She had to admit, she felt better after drinking green tea than following a cup of coffee. The conversation on their second date should be interesting. “Do you know anything about the former owner of this house?”
“Only that Gretchen Bond owned the place and lived by herself for many years. Why?”
“How long have you lived in Otter Creek?”
“A few months.”
Darcy sighed. “So you don’t know the history of the place.”
“Sorry, sweetheart. I can ask around if you want me to. Why are you so curious?”
Her heart melted a little at the endearment. “Mrs. Watson told me Gretchen Bond was murdered.”
Rio’s hand froze halfway to his mouth. “Who killed her?”
“The police never arrested anyone.”
“Josh has lived in this town his whole life. If the information is on the grapevine, he’ll know.”
“Ask me what?”
The warm male voice had Darcy glancing over her shoulder. Oh, man. Another buff guy with male model good looks. This must be Josh Cahill, Rio’s other teammate.
“About Gretchen Bond.”
“The best person to ask is my father. He talked about Ms. Bond several times over the years.” Hazel eyes turned to Darcy. “I’m Josh Cahill. You must be Trent’s sister.”