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A Willing Murder Page 3
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In the back, a door opened and a woman came around the corner. She was older than Kate, late twenties maybe, shorter, and carried a few extra pounds. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t hear anyone come in. Chris is usually here, but today—” She broke off as she stared. “You must be Kate.”
“I am. Is Tayla here?”
“No. She has some showings in Weston. The couple wanted to be near big stores and flashy streets. We’re too quiet for them. Their loss. She won’t be back for hours. She said you wouldn’t be here until tomorrow.”
“I didn’t think I would be. I was going to go to my aunt’s today but my GPS can’t find Stewart Lane.”
“I guess it’s too tiny to put in the system. I’m Melissa. Want some coffee? Tea? Water from the faucet?”
Kate smiled. “Water sounds good.”
“Come on, then, and I’ll show you around.”
It took only minutes to see the place, and Melissa showed Kate her office. It was a good size, with a window that looked out to the big circle, where people picnicked.
“Try it,” Melissa said, nodding toward the tan leather chair. “Tayla ordered it just for you. I tried to get her to buy it in red but she wouldn’t.”
“Good. I like this one.” She sat down and swiveled around in a full circle: L-shaped desk, wall, window. It was an excellent area.
Melissa was leaning against the door frame, cup in hand. “You know, you look a bit like your aunt. I’ve only seen her once, but I think your faces are shaped the same.”
When she paused, Kate knew Melissa was waiting for a reply, but she said nothing. She’d seen a publicity shot of her aunt on the back of her books but she had no idea what she looked like every day.
“If you don’t know where Stewart Lane is, then you haven’t seen her house, have you?”
“No. Is it great?”
“Mmmm.” Melissa rolled her eyes. “Magnificent. Jack spent over a year redoing it.”
Again, Melissa paused and Kate had the idea she was supposed to ask something. About her aunt? The house? Ah. “Who is Jack?”
Melissa smiled in a way that let Kate know she’d got it right. “The man women dream about. Gorgeous, built, deep voice. He’s charmed Ms. Medlar into letting him move in with her. Rent-free.”
Kate turned around in the chair so her back was to Melissa. One thing she’d learned in her life was not to reveal too much. With autocratic, domineering, “stick their noses into everything” uncles like hers, she and her mother knew how to keep quiet. She was not going to tell this snooping woman that when it came to her aunt, she knew nothing about anything.
When she turned around, Kate was smiling. “Jack is in business with my aunt and his stay with her is only temporary.”
“Oh.” Melissa seemed to be deflated by this news. She straightened. “When he moves out, would you please give him my info? I’ll work with him on finding any house he wants.”
When Kate stood up, Melissa looked her up and down, as though she was the competition. Puh-lease, Kate thought. She’d never been one for catfights over men.
“I’ll do that.” Kate looked at her watch. “I have to go.” She picked up her handbag and hurried toward the front door. As she opened it, she looked back at Melissa. “I’ll be here first thing tomorrow. At eight. Please tell Tayla. Or no, I’ll text her. It was very nice meeting you.”
Kate quickly exited, her sensible-heeled shoes clicking on the wooden porch. When she got in her car, she saw Melissa watching from the window. Kate waved and smiled, then drove away.
She went around the central green area to park off the street, behind some shops. She put her head down on the steering wheel. It looked like her mother was right, that Aunt Sara was being exploited by some hunk of a guy—and she was going to have to deal with it. Was it too late to run home?
She leaned back in the seat and tried to get herself together. Damn! she thought. She forgot to get directions to Aunt Sara’s house—but then, Melissa hadn’t exactly volunteered to tell her. Okay, so she’d explore the town and ask someone. Besides, she shouldn’t arrive empty-handed. She needed to buy a thank-you gift. Flowers? Candy? A diamond tiara?
Telling herself to cut the sarcasm, she picked up her map. “Distributed by the town of Lachlan, Florida, courtesy of Kirkwood Realty” was written on the back.
She was on Eden Bay Lane, and The Flower Pot, a florist shop, was nearby. She could get flowers there, and chocolates across the street. But considering her aunt’s weight problems, maybe she should get her a book instead. Two blocks away was a large bookstore.
She got out of the car and went to the florist. It was an enchanting little shop and it smelled divine. A young woman helped her choose a huge bouquet of flowers and wrapped them in peach-colored tissue paper. Kate asked her for directions to Stewart Lane but she said she lived in Sunrise and had no idea where it was.
Not far away was a fruit shop, with bins of beautifully ripe fruit displayed in front.
Better than chocolate, she thought. He had baskets for sale and she chose a large one and filled it.
Kate started toward her car with her arms full, the flowers half covering her face. “Weston, Sunrise,” she muttered as she walked along the sidewalk. As a Realtor, she’d be driving people around to these places and she needed to know where they were.
As she stepped off the curb, she remembered that she’d forgotten to ask the man with the fruit where Stewart Lane was. Suddenly, there was the sound of squealing brakes. A strong hand grabbed her arm and pulled her back. She jolted hard into a man’s body and he caught the flowers and basket before they fell.
Kate turned to see a woman in a car just inches from where she’d been. The driver was angry and yelling, hands gesturing. In the back seat were two wide-eyed children.
“Sorry,” Kate said. “Sorry, sorry.”
The woman drove past and Kate finally turned to see who had saved her. The man was in his thirties, tall, slim, dark blond hair, blue eyes. Extremely handsome. “I...” she began as she took the flowers from him, but he kept the heavy basket.
“I’m Alastair Stewart,” he said.
“Kate Medlar.” Her voice was a bit shaky, since she’d nearly been run over by a car. “Thank you so much for what you did, but I should go. I have things to do.” But when she took a step, her legs wobbled.
“Allow me.” He held out his bent arm for her to take. “I think you need to sit down so you can recover from the dangers of speedy little Lachlan.”
She nodded, shifted the flowers that had blocked her view, then took his arm. They crossed the road and he opened a door into a bakery. Inside was a long case filled with delicious, high-calorie, forbidden foods. To the left were tables, several with people looking at them in curiosity.
He led her through a doorway at the side of the bakery to enter an old-fashioned tea shop named Mitford’s. Little tables with pink cloths and flowered tea sets filled the sunlit room.
Alastair set the basket on the counter and turned to the woman in the apron. “Bessie, would you please introduce me to this young woman?”
She was short, stout, with a head full of gray curls. “This is Alastair Stewart. Born and bred here in Lachlan. Lived here until the world offered him money and glamour, then he left us to chase after the gold.”
Alastair shook his head. “That’s not the version I wanted to hear. Just tell her of my sparkling character and my reliability, and that I’m not some unknown vagrant who hits on pretty girls.”
Bess’s eyes were laughing as she looked at Kate. “He and my daughter used to swim naked together. Remember that time—?”
“No, I don’t,” Alastair said loudly. He took Kate’s arm and led her to a table by a window. “Sorry about that. My intention was to present myself as trustworthy. A pillar of the community, et cetera. And by the way, her daughter and I were two years old when we were sk