Page 38 of Three Steps Behind

“Mrs. Pearl. I have your mail, dear. Or whoever you might be.”

He glanced back at her, a brow raised.

“My landlady.” She pushed past him and opened the door. Mrs. Pearl stood on the other side with a curious smile on her aging face.

“This is Deckard, Mrs. Pearl.”

“Oh . . .” The petite woman wriggled her way inside with a giggle. “So nice to meet you, dear. And you are . . . ?”

“I’m a friend,” Deck said, shaking her extended hand.

Mrs. Pearl pushed her glasses up on the bridge of her nose and checked him out. “Well, a good friend to have.” She nodded.

Harper bit back a smile. “Thank you, Mrs. Pearl.” She took the mail from her hands and nicely but firmly guided her back to the front door.

“Your box wasn’t too full, but I know you were off on one of your forays, so I held on to it for you.”

“Thank you so much. I appreciate it.” She’d had the post office hold it, but they always missed some at the beginning or end of her trips.

“No trouble, dear.” Mrs. Pearl craned her neck to see over Harper’s shoulder. “Good-bye, other dear. Lovely to meet you.” She gave Deck another once-over and smiled. “Don’t be a stranger.”

Finally, Harper managed to get her fully through the door and shut it behind her, Mrs. Pearl’s humming along the corridor still reaching their ears.

Harper leaned back against the closed door and covered a laugh. Not that it was wrong to laugh, but given everything, in many ways it felt wrong. But . . . she laughed again. “She was totally checking you out.”

“I know.” Deck faked a grimace—clearly fighting off a smile. “I feel debased.”

He couldn’t hold the straight face any longer, and they laughed together.

“Maybe I should have given her one of these.” He jutted out his butt in an exaggerated model pose.

She laughed harder.

“Or one of these . . .” He gave a wind-blown head flip, like the great Fabio.

She doubled over, her sides hurting from the laughter, and he kept it up, God bless him, the laughter overcoming her. It would end, but she’d enjoy it until it did.

Half an hour later, she climbed into Deck’s truck and her cell rang. She checked the caller ID. “It’s Susan.” She accepted the call. “Hey there.”

“Hey. Sorry I didn’t call back sooner. The reading of the will took a good while.”

“Why so long?”

“Nick had quite the battle with the lawyer, Miss Collins.”

“About?” She looked over at Deck, then shifted the phone to speaker, giving Susan a quick heads-up as she was doing so.

“Okay.” Susan streamed out an exhale. “I’ll start at the top. Taylor named Steve the executor of the will and—”

“She left him the money?” Harper rushed in.

“In a way.”

Harper frowned. “What do you mean, ‘in a way’?”

“I’ll get there, but here’s the juicy part. Taylor left some of her money to her charity, of course, but left the bulk of it to Blake Brookes.”

“Blake Brookes? As in her tennis instructor at the club?”