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“No shit. It’s terrible.”
“Not for long,” Dottie hums as she keeps pinning.
“Hey, did you give that doctor a call?” Dean was waffling the last time I bugged him about it.
“We’ve talked a few times.” Nothing about his tone hints at any excitement, but that’s Dean. He’s casual about everything.
I school my expression. “Did you ask about your prostate?”
“Oh, you need that checked out, love?” Genuine concern mars Dottie’s face. “Because I know a thing or two—”
“Oh my God,” Scarlet groans, covering her face with her hands.
Dean laughs, his cheeks flushing again. He’s so fun to embarrass. “I’m seeing Meera on Saturday.”
“Oh.” Dottie clues in that this is not a medical concern. “I’m sure she’ll give you a thorough once-over.”
Their radios crackle with dispatch, beckoning the men.
With a quick kiss against Scarlet’s forehead, Shane peels away, and the guys head out.
Dottie sighs wistfully, moving to the next seam, murmuring more to herself, “What a night that was.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Warmth from the sun grazes my cheeks as I step out the back door of Murphy’s. Spring officially landed in our ugly feet calendar, and temperatures have soared since, reaching into the low seventies. The smell of thawed soil and mud permeates the air.
I hop over puddles, intent on my forgotten wallet in my car, until I spot Garrett’s SUV. My pulse quickens, even as I temper my excitement with the reality that he’s been gone for weeks, that he didn’t rush back for me.
An oversize white truck is parked nearby, and someone’s propped open the heavy door that leads into the basement. Male voices carry up from the depths.
I trudge closer to the gaping hole, the wooden steps leading down narrow and steep.
“… shoring there, there … all over there.”
“But it’s doable?” Garrett asks, his raspy voice stirring my nerves.
“The way this place was built? Definitely.”
“How much extra are we talking, ballpark?”
“Gotta run numbers, but if I had to guess …” The man’s voice trails as he peers up to see me standing in the doorway. “Hello?”
Another man steps into view, and a second later, Garrett is there.
My heart skips a beat. “Don’t mind me. Just here to see the murder site.”
“I’ll give you a call later, John.” At least Garrett doesn’t sound angry that I interrupted them.
With firm handshakes, the burly man and his lanky sidekick climb up the steps, clipboards tucked under their arms.
“Bye, John.”
He gives me a tight-lipped smile on his way past to the truck.
Garrett stands at the bottom of the stairs, peering up at me, a curious but unreadable expression on his face. Dark shadows linger under his eyes, as if he hasn’t slept much.
“I like this look.”
“What look is that?”
“You, beneath me.”
A slow, wry smile spreads across his lips, and I hold my breath, waiting for him to make the lewd retort I set him up for. “You’re here to pester me, so you may as well come down and check it out.”
“Not playing along today, huh?” I ease down the stairs. They’re steeper than I expected, and I accept Garrett’s hand until my shoes hit the dirt floor with a thud.
I immediately feel the sense of loss when he lets go, but I push it aside. “Who were those guys?”
“The general contractor for the project, and my numbers guy.”
“Did they know they’re disturbing a crime scene?”
“From a century ago?”
“What, you don’t believe in ghosts?”
“No.”
“Me neither. But maybe John does.” I wander into the vacuous, stone-clad space. It’s the length of four storefronts above us, and poorly lit between a few naked bulbs and scattering of windows, too small for even a child to fit through. It smells like any musty old basement, but there’s no hint of water anywhere.
“Have you told them about the delays yet?” Shirley is adamant she’s not backing down at that town meeting. Her argument? The detrimental effects of having a condominium towering over the other Main Street buildings, as well as the fact that the town changed their zoning a year ago and HG should conform to our needs, rather than the other way around.
And she’s putting all her poker chips in. She may have fought the need for a Facebook account, but she has since infiltrated every town’s group within a thirty-mile radius of Polson Falls, gathering granules of intel that might help her cause.
Garrett smirks. “Funny, I wasn’t aware of any yet, and I’m the one running the project.”
“What does that mean? What do you do all day, besides flirt with me and try to buy off old ladies with bakery sweets?”
He trails behind me as we sink deeper into this building’s undercarriage. “Good question. Let’s see … between dealing with architects and engineers, getting permit approvals, managing general contractors and their tradespeople, sales and marketing, financial lenders, investors, the community, legal, accounting … not much.”
“Didn’t think so.” That’s a lot of balls to juggle. I won’t admit that I’m impressed, though. “You were gone a long time. Must have had an awful lot of meetings.”
