Page 28 of Housesitter

As Easy drove away, the crisp electronic four-by-four harmonies finally cut off on Shepherd’s phone. It was replaced by the flat, Midwestern voice of client-manager Ben.

Probably.

It didn’t matter as long as it was someone who worked for Renfield’s.

“...yes?” whoever it was snapped impatiently. “Is there anyone there?”

Shepherd fumbled the phone between his hands as he lifted it to his ear. “Yes,” he said quickly. “I’m still here. Sorry. Ah, this is Shepherd? I’m housesitting for—”

“Hell House,” Ben said. “Madden’s account. I am up to speed on that. What is it?”

Shepherd scrubbed his hand through his hair. “We have a bit of a problem.”

“A bit?” Ben snorted. “Our client has ghosted us. The account is still open. The house is in limbo, and you think there’s a bit of a problem?”

“The Homeowner’s Association was just here,” Shepherd said.

There was a pause, a deep sigh, and the soft, windy thump of someone sitting down hard on an expensively ergonomic chair.

“Fuck,” Ben said. With feeling.

Chapter Eight

Hell House Client Brief: The kitchen is fully stocked. Help yourself to snacks.

Kel tossed the whiskey back,

Usually that would make him cough as the heat caught the back of his throat. Today he barely noticed it. Compared to the scald of smoke he could still taste on the back of his tongue, the liquor went down like honey.

“...I swear, I had her like this,” Kel gloated. He held his hand out, palm up, to demonstrate. Then closed his fingers quickly. “I could have talked her into anything, Ruby.”

His grandmother didn’t look impressed.

Kel shrugged that off. It just meant that she was and didn’t want him to know. He reached over the table for the whiskey as Ruby pulled her specs out of her purse and unfolded the legs. She waited until the tortoiseshell frames were balanced on her nose to give him a disapproving look over them.

“What happened to one drink being your limit?” she asked, eyebrows crooked up under her bangs.

The bottle was already tipped over Kel’s glass. He hesitated for a moment at the reminder and then laughed as he tilted it a bit further to let a fresh shot glug.

“I’m celebrating,” he said.

Ruby snorted as she ran her eye over the paperwork that Kel had hastily drawn up. She pursed her lips and shook her head.

“Celebrating what?” she asked as she waved it at him. “You went out there to get some money, and came back with first refusal on a farm you don’t want, can’t afford, and that will belong to the bank shortly? The job is to sell her a pipe dream, not fall for one yourself.”

For a moment Kel doubted himself.

It was, he supposed, possible that she had a point. He’d levied a lot of sweet talk to get Sandra to sign over the lien, but it had been candy floss and spun sugar. Kel hadn’t actually gotten into the taffy of anything that was actually actionable.

But no.

Ruby just couldn’t see the potential. And OK, neither could Kel right now. It was there, though. A glob of something he knew he’d really want once he knew what it was. All he had to do to bring it into focus was keep talking.

He tasted the spice and smoke of that conviction on the tip of his tongue as he told Ruby, “Just wait. I know what I’m doing.”

She snorted.

“I’ve heard that before.”