by Becki Willis
Hannah nodded, but, again, the woman couldn’t see her. “Yes,” she managed to say. “I’m sorry to have bothered you.”
“Oh, no problem, honey. We’re here for you, anytime. Tell Walker Tracey Ann said hey.”
Hannah went back into the house and called Orlan’s name again. Silence greeted her. She waited at the foot of the stairs for him to come down. Five minutes ticked by.
After another five minutes of indecision, she started up the steps.
There was no sign of the man in any of the rooms. Nothing appeared to have been disturbed. Hannah came back down and searched through the first floor. She saw nothing.
If not for the sandwich, the entire episode might have been a figment of her imagination.
“I see you called.” Walker returned her call as she fed the last of the abandoned sandwich to Leroy. “I’m sorry, I was in an area with no cell service. Is something wrong?”
“Not anymore. But I wish you’d warn me when someone is dropping by.”
His voice sharpened. “Did Tinker stop by?”
“Tinker? No, and I hope he doesn’t! And certainly when you’re not here!”
“I’ve asked him to drop his bid off here at the office. I don’t want him back on the property, any more than you do.”
“Did you tell his cousin how you felt? He really shouldn’t have sent him in his stead, not without talking to you first.”
“I’ve tried to reach Hank several times, but he doesn’t answer.”
“I guess he was really sick, then,” Hannah said, feeling empathy toward the man. It was bad enough, just having a virus. Having a virus and a guest like Everett Tinker was a double whammy.
“If I don’t hear from him in a day or so, I’ll drop by and check on him. Hopefully his relatives will be gone by then.”
“If they can remember where they live,” Hannah snickered. “We’ve narrowed it down to either Wichita, Kansas, or Wichita Falls, Texas. We think.”
“Again, not the sharpest tool in the shed,” Walker said dryly. “But if Tinker didn’t drop by, who were you referring to?”
“Orlan Varela. Tell me something. Do all your friends work at that history farm? Other than Tracey Ann. I know she works for 9-1-1. She said to tell you ‘hey,’ by the way. And where is that history farm, anyway? I can’t find a thing about it on the internet.”
Walker was quiet for a long moment. He finally responded to her questions, in random order. “How do you know Tracey Ann Porter works at the sheriff’s office? Why were you talking to her?”
“Because I called 9-1-1 when your friend Orlan stopped by here to raid our refrigerator!” Her tone revealed her displeasure. He should have told her to expect the man, instead of allowing him to scare her half to death. “He said it wasn’t him,” she continued, “but I bet he’s the one who ate the pork chops yesterday. Does he do this often? Stop by and raid the refrigerator, I mean?”
“H—How would I know?” Walker sputtered. “I don’t live there!”
His answer gave her pause. “Oh. That’s right,” she murmured. “I keep forgetting. You’re just here to babysit me.”
She could hear the frown in his voice. “I wouldn’t use the word babysit, Hannah. It’s not like that.”
Another thought occurred to her. “Maybe he’s not your friend, after all. But he was clearly Miss Wilhelmina’s friend. He knew his way around the kitchen, and Leroy didn’t even bark at him.”
“What was he doing?” Walker asked, his tone oddly hesitant.
“Nothing, really. I thought he wanted food, so I made him a sandwich. But while I was on the phone with Tracey Ann, hearing how she’s been in love with you most of her life, he disappeared on me.” This time, the frown appeared in her voice. “The people who work at that history farm are rather rude, aren’t they? They just come and go at their leisure, walking in and out of here like they own the place!”
When Walker made no reply, Hannah scowled. “Well? Don’t you have anything to say?”
“Uh… Tracey Ann was just joking. She’s engaged to my friend Reece.”
“Well, don’t tell this Reece fellow, but if you weren’t already taken, I think she’d rather be engaged to you.”
He quickly changed the subject. “I think I might bring home pizza tonight. How’s that sound?”
It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him not to bother. That he should take the pizza home, all right, to the house he shared with his wife. However, she remembered how easily Orlan had come into the inn, without her even knowing it. If he and Caroline came and went at will, were there others? She remembered all the strange noises, and the supposed mouse from the other night.
Sending the attorney home was the right thing to do.
But she wasn’t quite brave enough yet.
“Pizza sounds fine,” she said quietly.
Chapter Thirteen
It was a nice day out, and Hannah suffered from cabin fever. It seemed the perfect time to do some yard work.
“This imprisonment is getting to me,” she admitted aloud, if only to herself. Never one to handle a rake and hoe in Houston, she put both to good use on this fine day.
Someone, most likely the Tanners, kept the flowerbeds around the old inn tidy and clean, but straggly new weeds called attention to the couple’s absence. Hannah plucked the unsightly reminders away and raked the ground around them, restoring beauty and order to the simple garden. Alternating a swing of the hoe with the sweep of the rake, she worked her way across the yard and to the other side of the gravel driveway.
By the time Walker arrived, she had hacked her way to the weeds that skirted the dance hall like fringe. She took a grateful break, resting her arm on the handle of the hoe and pushing away her sweaty hair. “Is it that late already?” she asked in surprise.
“No, I’m early.”
She took one look at his solemn expression and muttered, “This can’t be good.” She nodded to the opened door of the old saloon turned dance hall. “Let’s go inside. I have water.”
Two water bottles, one of them untouched, sat on one of the long tables nearest the door. Eager for a chance to rest, Hannah took a seat on the simple bench running alongside the table. She offered him the unopened water as she took a long draw of refreshment from her own.
“It’s not good,” he concurred. “When I couldn’t reach Hank Ruby yesterday, I decided to drop in on him. It’s not like Hank to ignore a phone call, even when he’s under the weather.”
“And was he? Under the weather, I mean?”
“In a manner of speaking. He’s dead.”
“What?”
Walker’s nod was sad and slow. “When he didn’t come to the door, I walked around back and found one of the windows bashed in and the back door unlocked. I found Hank inside. From the looks of it, he had been dead for at least a couple of days.”
“That’s terrible.” Even though she didn’t know the man, she hated to hear of anyone’s untimely death. “He must have been truly sick, to die so suddenly.”
“That tends to happen when you’re on the wrong end of a bullet.”
“A bullet!” she gasped. “You mean—”
Walker interrupted her, his voice flat. “I mean he was shot to death. Apparently, someone broke into Hank’s house, killed him, and left by way of the back door.”
“Did you call the police?”
Clearly offended, Walker scowled at her. “What kind of question is that? Of course I called the police.”
Hannah’s hands fluttered in the air. “I’m sorry, of course you did. I’m just so surprised. A bit shocked, actually, though I don’t know why. I didn’t even know the man.” She huffed out a sigh and admitted, “I guess I didn’t think things like that happened out here.”
“Like anywhere else, where there are people, there are crimes. Luckily, however, murder is few and far between.”
“Murder!”
He gave her a sardonic look. “Of course murder. Did you think this was a friendl
y killing?”
“No, but… What about his family that was visiting? Everett Tinker and his wife. Were they already gone?”
Walker plopped down on the bench and reached for the water bottle. If he had been wearing a tie, he would have loosened it. Instead, he used one hand to free the top two buttons of his monogrammed western shirt, while with the other, he lifted the water to his lips. He guzzled half the bottle, but as he wiped his mouth with his palm, his hand lingered. Hannah imagined it was to steady his nerves. After all, he had just discovered a dead body.
Friend or not, it couldn’t have been pleasant, particularly after two or more days.
“I don’t think Everett Tinker was who he said he was,” Walker admitted, his voice gravelly. “Something about his story just never made sense to me.”
“Like what?”
“To begin with, I knew it wasn’t like Hank to send someone else to do his bids for him. He would have at least called to ask if I minded, sick or not. And that bit about the nickname. I’ve seen pictures of Hank when he was young. Even way back when, he always wore a buzz.” Walker drummed his fingers on the table, staring off into space. “I should have asked more questions. Hank never mentioned family in Kansas. I should have listened to my instincts and found out more about the man before I let him on the property!” He slapped the table, clearly angry with himself.
“You didn’t know, Walker.”
“But I should have! The man was too slick. Too eager. He wanted to start ripping things apart, the very next day. Asked too many nosy questions, too, wanting to know if there were false floors and where the breaker pole was, and if he could go in all the buildings. He was looking for something.”
“Did you tell the police about him?”
“Yes, and there’s no Everett Tinker in Wichita Falls or in Wichita, Kansas.” He snorted in disgust.
“He had a magnetic sign on his truck,” Hannah remembered. She snapped her fingers in repetition, trying to recall the name she had read. “Now what was it?” she murmured.
“Jobs Done Right,” Walker supplied. “Which happens to be the name of a business over in Comfort. While they were doing a job here a few days ago, someone swiped the magnetic sign off their truck.”
Hannah sucked in a sharp breath. “You don’t—You don’t think Everett Tinker killed your friend. Do you?” She added the last breathlessly.
“First of all, I don’t think Everett Tinker is his real name.”
She raised worried eyes to his. “And second?”
Walker’s own eyes were a stormy blue. “I think there’s a good chance he might have killed him, or at least he might know something about Hank’s death. The last time anyone remembers seeing Hank was four days ago, when he told his buddies down at the diner about heading out here the next morning. My guess is that the man calling himself Everett Tinker overheard the conversation and took advantage of it. I think he got Hank out of the way so that he could show up here, instead.”
Biting into her lip, Hannah remembered something the man had said. “It did strike me as odd, the way he claimed Hank woke up ‘deadly’ sick. Then again, everything about the man struck me as odd.” She nibbled on her lip some more. “Why would he do that? Why would he want the handyman out of the way?”
“I’m not sure, but the man was up to something. He came here with a stolen sign, a false name, and a questionable story. I don’t mean to alarm you, Hannah, but you need to be extra careful out here. Even if it turns out the man had nothing to do with Hank Ruby’s death, he was definitely up to no good.”
Hannah bounced up from the bench, like a ball of nervous energy. “Why would you tell me something like that? Now I’ll be a total wreck! It’s bad enough I can’t leave the property; now I’ll be too afraid to leave the inn. I truly will be a prisoner here!” she wailed.
“Leroy will protect you. He didn’t like the man. He’ll alert you if he tries to step foot on the property again.”
She didn’t look convinced. “When did you say the Tanners will be back?” She wasn’t sure the older couple could offer much protection, but she would feel better having someone else around during the day. The so-called carpenter had been curious about a husband, so having a man around, even one that was likely to be pushing seventy, was a welcomed addition.
“Sunday evening,” Walker assured her. “That’s only three days away. I’ll be here most of the day on Sunday, so it’s really only two days you’ll be here alone.” Seeing her deeply puckered brow, he quickly amended his words. “One and a half, at best. I’ll have a short day Saturday.”
She was nibbling her lip again. “You said most of Sunday. Are you picking them up at the airport, or something?”
“No, I was referring to church.” He gave her a sheepish look. “I’m sorry you can’t go with me, but according to the terms…”
“I know, I know,” Hannah said with a sigh. “The terms of imprisonment.”
Chapter Fourteen
With no sign of the unwanted carpenter, the next two days passed uneventfully. Hannah stayed indoors, studying the ledgers and making a few spreadsheets of her own. Lists, after all, were her specialty.
On Sunday morning, before Walker left for church, she managed to milk Buttercrunch by herself. The experience wasn’t quite as much fun as it was when Walker guided her hands with his, but it was every bit as exhilarating.
Who would have ever guessed that Hannah Duncan, daughter of famed actress Jacqueline Duncan and niece of oil mogul Joseph Duncan, could find such satisfaction in milking a cow? But this was something she had done on her own, without help from her family. She coaxed out at least a dozen good, solid squirts before handing the task over to Walker.
She was pacing herself, she said. Starting slow so that she could get a good handle on things, no pun intended. The attorney laughed and took over the chore as she went off to gather eggs, also by herself.
A smile lingered on Hannah’s face. Almost two weeks into her thirty days, and here she was acting like a farm girl. When Sadie and Fred Tanner arrived home this evening, they would never guess she was a greenhorn.
To welcome the couple back, Walker suggested a tailgate barbecue. It promised to be a beautiful evening, perfect for dining outside, and the Tanners loved surprises. He could grill a steak for Fred and fresh-caught fish for Sadie. In one of her weaker moments, Hannah agreed.
It was becoming more and more difficult to keep an emotional distance from Walker Jacoby. Not only was the man maddeningly attractive, but when he wasn’t smirking at her, he could be downright charming. He had a sharp, witty sense of humor. Worst of all, there was no denying the man was actually rather nice. He pulled his share of the household chores, never pried into her past, gave Hannah her space, and most importantly, spent his nights here at the old inn so that she felt safe. If it put a strain on his marriage, he never let on.
She knew that having a bit of fun and relaxation this evening was a bad idea, even if they had the older couple there as chaperones. It was almost as if she and Walker were hosting the event, one couple to another. When Sadie called to say their flight was delayed and they were staying over until morning, Walker suggested they go ahead with the barbecue, just the two of them. She had the opportunity to back out. But the steaks were already defrosted, and she convinced herself that being in the wide, open outdoors was better than being in the confines of the house with the handsome attorney. Particularly after being cooped up in the house for two days, the call of the outdoors beckoned.
So here they were, down by the pond, and Hannah was the most relaxed she had been in recent memory. Far longer ago than twelve days.
Walker had loaded a small grill in the back of his truck and had driven to the pond, where they set up makeshift accommodations. He grilled two fat, sizzling steaks to perfection, while Hannah pulled together the rest of the meal. They ate on a card table in the middle of the field, with the ducks and geese to serenade them. Bluebonnets scented the evening air.
A
nd now, with the cooking paraphernalia stashed away and the sun setting low on the horizon, they settled their chairs near the water’s edge and shared a bottle of pre-chilled wine. Hannah’s head lolled on the canvas back of the camp chair as she enjoyed the gentle breeze. It played in the dark silk of her hair, mussing it beyond redemption, but she couldn’t muster up the strength to care. Only when it tickled her face did she lift a hand to push it away.
This country life was oddly addicting. In as little as twelve days, she had come to love the peace of a quiet spring night. She loved the sounds of nature around her, the feel of fresh air blowing across her skin. Most evenings, she sat out on her balcony and absorbed the magic.
But this, with the breeze off the water and the splash and sputter of the playful fowl, was so much better. Hannah sighed aloud with pleasure.
“Enjoying yourself?” Walker asked in an amused voice.
“Mmm. Yes.”
Not that she would ever admit as much to her uncle, should he ever return her calls. JoeJoe was a royal pain when he gloated. It was just as well that he continued to ignore her.
“You’re really getting the hang of working with the animals. I think we might make a country girl of you yet.”
She lifted one eyelid. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, big boy,” she warned.
He chuckled, and the sound did strange and wicked things to her much-too-relaxed body. She made a half-hearted effort to scoot her chair further from him. They were close enough now that she could easily detect the deliciously mingled notes of charcoal, steak, and cologne upon his skin. It was a heady combination.
Married, she reminded herself.
“I’ll be sure and tell Sadie and Fred what a fine job you’re doing. They’ll be pleased to have the help.”
She wanted to ask what time the couple arrived in the morning, but it required more effort than she was willing to exert.
“Are you asleep over there?” he queried.
She didn’t bother opening an eye. “Would be, if you’d quit talking.”