Screwdrivered Page 20
“I can certainly see why. The people are great, and the landscape, it’s kind of awesome.”
“The people are great, although I hear you had a run-in with Mr. Barrow?”
“How in the hell did you hear about that?” I asked, incredulous. Seriously, how did word spread so fast?
“I have ears, Ms. Franklin. And he can be a great help to you, setting up a new life here. No one knows more about this town than he does.”
“He sure likes to remind me of that. But don’t worry, I’ve got some help of my own on the way.”
“That sounds mysterious.” He chuckled. “I do think perhaps you should talk with him again. He really is only concerned with maintaining the integrity of the house—a concern I’m sure you share.”
“I do, of course I do. But does he have to be so . . . so . . . I don’t know . . . librariany about it?”
“Ms. Franklin, are there any other questions you have about the will?” he asked patiently, not without some amusement in his expression.
“Well, yes, actually. There are some issues with the house, issues that Clark seems to think are no big deal. But when there’s rain falling on your head in the middle of the night, they tend to be a big deal to the one with the wet face, you know?”
“I can imagine.” He smiled. “And you’re wanting to get the roof fixed, I’m sure.”
“Well, that’s the thing. If I stay, the house needs a lot of work. And he—”
“You’re concerned that Clark doesn’t want you making any changes to the house, yes?”
“His exact words were, ‘You can’t change a thing in this house without going through me. Go ahead and check with Mr. Montgomery, he’ll tell you the same thing. Not one thing, Vivian,’ and he even pointed at me. So tell me the truth, is he right?”
“It’s complicated, Ms. Franklin,” he began, clasping his hands across the table from me. “Your aunt was a bit eccentric, as I’m sure you are aware.”
I thought of the dolls, the Mathis records, and the tube socks. Eccentric was an interesting choice of words.
“She wasn’t always wise about money, and some years she had trouble keeping up some of the maintenance on the house, as you’ve no doubt noticed. She applied for and was given a grant from the historical society for some basic upkeep. She was able to continue to pay for some things on her own, her basic needs and keeping on some of the animals. She was able to continue to employ Mr. Higgins. But some of the money wasn’t spent in the wisest of ways.”
I thought of the dolls, the Mathis albums, the tube socks. Not to mention the suit of armor. Wow.
“There are updates that need to be made to the house, Ms. Franklin, and I’m sure if you decide to stay, you and Mr. Barrow will be able to come to some kind of agreement to ensure that not only are your great-aunt’s wishes carried out, and the integrity of the house preserved, but that you also don’t have to endure a leaky roof.”
I thought for a moment. “So, the bottom line is if I decide to make some changes, the librarian is involved. Yes?”
“Yes, up to a point.”
I leaned across the table. “I’m going to need to know exactly where that line is.”
Chapter six
I pushed myself harder, lungs burning and legs quivering, up the last crest of the hill. I laser locked on the top, only yards away, using my last burst of energy to crash through the trees and reach the top. Letting my feet slow down, I stood with my hands on my hips, breathing in the sweet air this high up and gazing down at the mountain. What a view.
I’d used the map Jessica had made me of some of the running trails nearby, selecting a doozy this morning. I hadn’t run since I left Philadelphia, and my muscles weren’t happy about it. Matter of fact, they were livid, and they chanted as I ran up the trail:
Pizza
Cheeseburger
Pizza
Pizza
Beer
Cheeseburger
Worth it?
Worth it?
“Totally,” I muttered, kicking my leg back and giving it a good stretch, leaning against a tree trunk for balance. I’d run in the state park, up into the headlands. The Pacific spanned the entirety of my field of vision, mixing with the Big River as it emptied into the ocean. Named for the redwoods that stood along its banks when this part of California was being settled, the Big River played a role not only in the development of the land, but in the gold rush and the timber rush, the majestic giants being cut down for the great building expansion. Now protected, it was a beautiful river, popular with canoers and kayakers.
Not a bad idea, I thought, wondering if there was a canoe hidden away somewhere in the house. It was certainly possible. After my meeting with Mr. Montgomery, I spent the rest of the afternoon and evening finishing up in the second bedroom, and beginning to tackle the third. There were items of a more personal nature in that room, letters and postcards that Maude had accumulated over a lifetime. I also found tax records and old bills of sale in an ancient accordion file, amazingly orderly. These would come in handy if I ended up staying and—
Of course you’re staying. Was there really ever any doubt?
I chewed at my thumbnail, contemplating. I was staying.
A bubble of laughter made its way up my throat and out of my mouth before I could even stop it, one after another, until I sounded like a hyena on top of this mountain.
“I’m staying!” I said out loud, listening to the words fill the space. “Cool!”
I fist pumped, whirled about to run back down the mountain, and crashed into a sweaty chest.
My fist flew out again by instinct, right into the nose of Mr. Clark Barrow.
He staggered backward with a moan, his hands flying up to his face. “Good lord, Vivian!” he yelled, blood beginning to appear.
“Fuck! Clark! What the hell!” I yelled back, grabbing his arms and trying to peel his hands back from his nose so I could take a look. “Are you crazy? Sneaking up behind someone like that? Here, sit down so I can check your nose,” I said, taking him by the elbow and pushing him down onto a boulder.
“Are you crazy? You were talking to yourself on top of a mountain. Don’t do that—ow!” he said as I pried his fingers apart. I’d seen several broken noses in my time—softball, field hockey, you name it.
Fuck, I was talking to myself on top of a mountain. Dammit. “Okay, I was, but—oh hold still, will you?” I finally succeeded in pulling his hands back and getting a good look at what I’d done. Yup. I’d socked him a good one. Shit. “We need to get you to a doctor; I think it’s broken.”