He merely grunted. “I don’t need someone to show me how to live blind. This”—he waved a hand over his eyes—“is going to end any day.” His voice held a touch of desperation.
She fell silent, marshaling her thoughts. “Mr. Yarwood—”
“Call me Jason. Sheesh, I’m not my dad.”
“Jason, this place is a pigsty. With a little direction you can keep it clean and take care of yourself. A big, muscular man like you must hate being dependent on anyone. I can teach you to take charge of your life while you’re waiting for your sight to return. What could it hurt to learn some new skills? They might come in handy if you’re ever trapped in a dark cave.” She chuckled to try to lighten the moment. Sheba struggled to get down, and Bailey tried to shush her noises.
Jason tipped his head to one side. “You have a kid with you or something?”
“I brought my cat. There’s some work going on at my house today, and I didn’t want her to get out. She’s worth too much money, plus she’s my baby.” Bailey approached him and took his hand to place it on Sheba. “She looks like a cheetah with spots and long legs. She’s a special breed called a Savannah. She’s bred from a wild serval cat and a domestic cat.”
He ran his hands down the cat’s sleek coat and tall ears. “Those ears!” His fingers continued on down her long legs. “I can kind of picture her. Coloring just like a cheetah?”
“Yes, she’s a golden. Some of the Savannahs come in different colors. There are whitish-gray ones with black spots, black ones with darker black spots, brown ones with black spots.”
“Isn’t that something.” He continued to pet the cat, and Sheba’s loud purr started. “I think she likes me. Can I hold her?”
“Sure.” Bailey placed the cat on his lap and went to sit on the chair opposite his.
The strong scent of perspiration told her he hadn’t bathed in a while, so that task should be the first one of the day. “I thought we’d get you showered, and then I’d show you how to organize your closet so it’s easy to dress yourself. You’re still in pajamas.”
“I live in pajamas.” His mouth flattened into a tight line. “I’m not having a woman give me a bath.”
“I don’t plan to. I’ll get your shower ready, lay out things where you can easily find them, then step out unless you need me.”
“That might be all right. Mac would be the last person I’d ever ask for help. She’d as soon stick a knife in my gut as help me.”
Bailey raised a brow. “If she didn’t care about you, she wouldn’t have hired me.”
“She wants me to get well so she’s rid of the guilt. I was injured saving her from her own bad choices.”
Whoa, interesting backstory there. It was none of her business, but she couldn’t help but wonder what he meant. “Well, regardless, I’m here and I’ll teach you to get along by yourself as much as possible. I’ll let you keep Sheba while I get things ready in the bathroom.”
She didn’t wait for him to object but found her way to the master, a large room that held a king bed and two dressers. Clothing and toiletries were strewn all over the bed and the floor. A door led into the master bath with a large walk-in shower and separate soaking tub. Toiletries, coffee mugs, and saucers covered the double vanity top. She’d have to clean this up first.
She made quick work of stacking dishes and putting away toiletries, then poked her head in the shower. There was a ledge for shampoo and soap, but it was several steps away from the showerhead, which wasn’t ideal. The floor wasn’t the best place for it either. Maybe the other bathroom had one of those shelves that hung from the shower. She went back into the hall and found the second bathroom. No shelf unit there either.
They’d have to make do today with putting the shampoo and shower gel in the niche. Now to beard the lion in his den.
It had taken forever for Jason to disrobe and shower. Bailey spent her time organizing his bedroom. She moved underwear and socks to logical locations and put pants with matching shirts, organized by colors, on hangers in the closet. The sheets didn’t look like they’d been changed in a while, so she stripped the bed and found clean bedding in the hall linen closet.
By the time Jason emerged from the master bathroom to stand in the doorway, the room appeared 100 percent better than the way she’d found it.
Jason ran a hand over his glistening hair. “I can’t see if I parted it straight.”
“Looks pretty good. You need any hair product?”
He shook his head. He wore jeans and a T-shirt but was still barefoot. “I feel better though. You were right.” His tone held a bit of grudging admiration.
“I’ll show you where to find everything. Come to the dresser. Count your steps from the bathroom door to my voice.”
His eyes were bright as he did so. “Twelve steps.”
“Good, remember that. I’m going to take your hand and show you where I’ve put things.” She guided his hand to the top open drawer. “Underwear in the top drawer. Socks in the second drawer. Pajamas in the third drawer, and sweats in the bottom drawer. Got it?”
“Got it.”
“Now I’m going to move to the closet.” She went to stand in front of the open closet door. “Count your steps to my voice here.”
He nodded and walked uncertainly her way. “Six steps, half the distance from the dresser to the bathroom.”
He was figuring things out. “I’ve put a piece of tape on the bar between outfit colors. You pretty much have all blue, black, and red shirts, so from right to left you’ll find black, then blue, then red. Feel the tape?” She guided his hand to the tape she’d put on the bar. “I’ll bring actual dividers.” She guided his hand to a T-shirt. “Black shirts have no safety pin on the hem. Blue has one safety pin, and red has two.” She let him finger the hems. “Then you can hang up your own clothes.”
He turned away. “You think I’m going to stay blind, don’t you?”
“I don’t know anything about your diagnosis, Jason, but you might as well be productive while you’re waiting. This has to feel good that you can figure things out for yourself.”
“I guess.”
The doorbell’s ring echoed down the hall. “I’ll get that. Count your steps to the door from here, then down the hall to join me while I see who that is.” She didn’t wait for him to answer but went down the hall to the living room and opened the door. “Mayor Weaver, right?”
He smiled. “I didn’t expect to see you here, Ms. Fleming. I thought I’d stop and see how Jason is doing.”
“Come on in.” She stepped out of the way so he could enter. “Mac hired me to help him learn to cope with his situation for the moment. He’ll be right in.”
The mayor followed her into the living room, and his craggy face didn’t show any distaste for the disarray in the living room. Maybe he’d been here before.
Jason, his hand trailing along the hallway wall, approached them. “Nice of you to stop by, Tom.”
His voice held the first genuine warmth Bailey had heard. They must be friends. “Can I get the two of you some coffee or anything?”
“Thanks, but I can’t stay,” the mayor said. “I thought maybe you’d want to get some dinner, Jason. The wife is out of town, and I don’t want to go to an empty house tonight until I have to. Harvey’s is having a big clam fest tonight with live music. What do you say?”
Jason ran his hand over his damp hair. “I’m tired of being stuck in the house, so maybe I’ll take you up on it. It’s not like I’m doing anything else.”
“Great.” The mayor headed for the door. “I’ll pick you up around four. We’ll beat the rush.”
Bailey went to let him out and stepped onto the porch with him. “I think this is the best thing you could have done. You two are old friends?”
“He grew up with my son, Adam. The three of us have spent many hours fishing together. Adam died in a car crash a couple of years ago, and Jason has always been there for me. I want to be here for him too. Judge Whitewell an
d his kids usually go with us too.”
Bailey recognized the grief behind the mayor’s words and nodded. “I’ll let Mac know where he is.”
She went back inside and shut the door. There was much she didn’t know yet about her new home, but it was clear people looked out for each other. She liked that.
Chapter 15
The pungent scent of garlic and clams wafted in the air of Harvey’s Pier and made Mac’s mouth water. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and it was four thirty. She glanced around the packed restaurant and didn’t see an empty table or booth. She approached the hostess stand.
Kelly Willis looked frazzled with her blonde hair in disarray and a flush on her cheeks. She glanced at her seating chart. “It’s going to be an hour, Mac.”
Mac’s stomach couldn’t take an hour. She spied her ex-husband sitting with Mayor Weaver in a back booth. “I’ll just join Jason and the mayor if that’s okay.”
Relief lit Kelly’s eyes. “That would be great.”
Mac threaded her way through the crowd past a boisterous table of college guys throwing back shots. Maybe coming here hadn’t been the best idea, but she didn’t want to be alone. Loneliness led to too many thoughts of all the mistakes she’d made. Ellie would have told her to come by, but lately Mac felt like a fifth wheel. Ellie and Grayson were the real deal, and she was happy for her sister, but it just made Mac regret the mess she’d made of her own life.
When she drew near the booth, she realized a woman sat on Jason’s other side. Felicia Burchell, the sheriff’s trophy wife, laughed up at him. The lights in her black hair and the sparkle in her dark-brown eyes made Mac’s gut clench. Everyone knew Felicia was crazy about her older husband, but seeing the Asian beauty’s charisma made Mac feel dowdy—not that Jason could see her.
She forced a smile. “Mind if I join you? The place is packed, and I didn’t want to wait an hour for food.”
Jason’s smile suddenly shuttered. Was he drawing an internal comparison between Felicia and her? Mac kept her smile steady. Her sense of betrayal held no trace of reality. Nothing was going on between Felicia and Jason, so why was she feeling so down about it?
“Sure thing.” Jason’s clipped tone indicated the opposite of his words.
The mayor stood. “I have to go anyway. Duty calls.” He didn’t sound upset. “I’ll take care of the bill on my way out. Have whatever you like, Mac. My treat for taking Jason home.” He gave them all one last smile, then hurried away before any of them could thank him.
Mac slid into the booth. “That was an abrupt leave-taking. Everything okay?”
Jason felt for his glass of iced tea, and his fingers closed around the beaded glass. “He had a call a minute ago. Some hot crisis down at city hall.”
Felicia smiled. “And I hate to be a party pooper, but I need to leave too. Everett texted me he was on his way home. I like to be there when he arrives after a hard day in the office.”
Jason slid out to allow her to exit. “Nice to see you, Felicia. Thanks for keeping us company.”
“It was good to see you out and about.” She ducked her head when she said see as if she’d suddenly remembered Jason’s blindness.
Jason felt for the edge of the table, then sat back down. “You checking up on me, Mac?”
“What? Of course not! I had no idea you were here.”
“Your new spy didn’t call and tell you?”
“What new spy?”
“Bailey was there when Tom came by. She knew we were meeting for dinner.”
Mac struggled to keep her tone even and calm. “I haven’t talked to her. How did it go with her today?”
Jason shrugged. “She organized my bedroom and bathroom. I took a shower. Does that make you feel like your money is well spent?”
The bitterness in his voice tore at her heart. Had she killed all the love he’d once had for her? “I hate seeing what I’ve done to you, Jason. I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you.” Did she dare tell him how she really felt? She drew in a deep breath. “What can I do to heal things between us?”
Jason lifted a brow. “Heal things? You smashed them beyond repair when you kicked me out, Mac. I don’t want your pity.”
“I don’t pity you.” The words I love you hovered on her tongue but couldn’t make it past her lips. What right did she have to ask for forgiveness?
“Sure feels like pity from where I’m sitting.” He took a gulp of iced tea. “You don’t need to run me home. I can call an Uber.”
“I want to take you home. I’d like to see what Bailey accomplished today.”
“I wish you wouldn’t come in. It’s hard enough knowing what we once had is gone, but to have you in my place now is setting too many precedents. Ones that will make it even harder on me.”
A flutter moved up her spine. Might there still be a chance between them? She would have to tell him how she felt. But not tonight—not when he was so gruff and bitter.
Lance dropped the last piece of lumber onto the pile and wiped perspiration from his brow. Bailey had made a quick pit stop before going out again to check on Lily, and he hoped to have time to prowl the property before she returned. Two sheds were secured with padlocks, and he suspected more evidence might be found inside the house. Squinting, he checked down the road. No telltale plume of dust on the dirt road.
He couldn’t cut the locks off and stay within the law. Since they were locked, she’d need to give permission for him to be inside. Maybe he could ask her to look for tools when she got back.
His decision made, he retrieved the key to the house and went inside. He’d barely shut the door behind him when Sheba growled and leaped onto his back. He danced around and swatted at her, but she hissed and bit at his hat. She succeeded in tearing the hat from his head, then dropped off him and pranced to the living room with her spoils.
“What the heck are you?” His back stung where her claws had dug in, and he studied the cat. The other day he hadn’t gotten nearly as good a look as he would have liked since the cat had been hanging out in the shadow of the woods.
Long legs, spotted golden coat, with big black ears and intelligent eyes. The cat curled up with his hat, and even from here, he heard its loud purr. He squatted beside Sheba. The cat didn’t flatten her ears, and her purr got louder, so he dared to lay his hand on her head and rub.
Amazing cat.
He stood. Where to even begin? The small place was so packed with furniture it felt claustrophobic in spite of the tall ceilings. The stone fireplace took up one full wall, and the sofa and chair close to it were oversized for the room. The bedroom would be the logical place to search for trafficking evidence. He stepped inside. Heaps of quilts lay on top of the bed, and Bailey’s suitcase stood open on a chair. She hadn’t brought much with her from the looks of it.
He found several condoms under the bed, so there had likely been some activity here since the search last year when they’d hauled away what evidence they found. The bed sat on a threadbare Oriental rug, and he eyed it. Could it hide anything? He lifted the corner of the rug and found nothing.
He heard the crunch of tires on gravel. She was back. He darted from the bedroom into the kitchen and out the back door, where he knelt at the worst of the rotten boards.
Bailey poked her head out the door. “Oh good, you’re back. I see you bought a bunch more wood. Can I get the receipt? I don’t want you to be out anything.”
“Sure.” He fished it from his shirt pocket and handed it to her.
His hand grazed hers, and he froze at the electricity sparking between them. Or was it just him who felt it?
“Where’s Lily?”
“Sleeping at her house. She insisted on staying home, so I let her.” Lance didn’t know what to make of her and the care she was showing the old lady. Commendable. “Your attack cat is something else.”
“Attack cat? You mean Sheba?”
“She jumped me and stole my hat.”
Bailey smiled as she glanced at the rece
ipt, then dug in her purse and handed him cash. “She’s my baby. I hope she didn’t hurt you.”
“Nope.” He’d spent over five hundred dollars on materials, and most people didn’t carry that much cash on them. Another indication she might be on the run from someone. Traffickers? He stuffed the money in his pocket. “I’ll get started on that other section of the deck.”
The lights flickered inside, then flooded the interior of the cabin. “The power’s on. Let me check around and make sure everything is okay.”
He followed her inside and used his electrical tester to make sure current was flowing correctly to the outlets. Nothing smelled hot and he gave her a nod. “Looks like you’re good to go.”
She had her hands on her hips as she gazed around at the space. “This place is filthy. Without lights I had no idea how dirty it was, but it needs a good cleaning. I brought Lily’s vacuum home with me, thank goodness. I’ll leave you to your work while I tackle this.”
The locked outbuilding itched at him. She didn’t seem to be going anywhere, so he wouldn’t be able to check it. Unless . . .
“If I were you, I’d start in the bedroom so you have someplace clean to sleep. Need me to help move out the furniture so you can give it a good going over?”
Her green eyes brightened. “That would be great.”
“There’s a clothesline in the backyard. I’ll take the mattress and rug out for a good beating. It will get more dirt and dust out than a vacuum.”
“Thank you. Will this affect getting the repairs made? I don’t want the deck to cave in.”
“It won’t be much of a delay. This won’t take more than an hour. There’s an outbuilding where we could store some stuff. There might be tools I need there too. Do you have a key?”
She pulled out a key ring. “I found this in the kitchen drawer. A key to the sheds should be on it.”
He’d hoped to look by himself, but she followed him across the yard to the shed, and he unlocked it, then pushed it open. The space was surprisingly neat with hedge trimmers, hammers, and various other tools hung on pegboards around the perimeter. A large trapdoor was in the middle of the floor. A slight odor of decay had him on high alert, and he moved to study the trapdoor.
Secrets at Cedar Cabin Page 10