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“Guilty. I’m Brock Bartlett. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Larkin.”
She shook her head of steely gray hair. “Am I under arrest?”
Brock’s laughter was part amusement, part relief. “If you’ll allow me to take your bag, I’ll explain in the car where it’s warm.”
“It was warm in Costa Rica.”
“I imagine it was.” He wheeled her suitcase to the back of his SUV and hefted it inside, then opened the passenger door.
“You must be rich,” Louise said when he joined her in the cab.
“I do okay.”
“You own a plane and this fancy car.”
“My friend owns the plane.” Brock entered an address into his GPS and exited the airport. “He did me a favor.”
“You got some kind of granny fetish? Cause I ain’t into younger men.”
Brock smothered a laugh. This woman.No wonder Erin never left Cherry Creek. “Mrs. Larkin—”
“You may as well call me Louise.”
“Louise. Your granddaughter—”
“Erin?” She clutched her chest. “Oh, my goodness, I never thought something could be wrong with Erin. What is it? Just give it to me straight.”
“Erin’s fine. She’s … we’re … dating.” It felt weird to say, and weirder still knowing it didn’t freak him out.
She twisted in the seat to face him, a stupefied look on her weathered face. “You interrupted my vacation to tell me that?”
“I interrupted your vacation to save you both from a legal battle. If you don’t have a notarized letter to your community management office by the end of the day today stating you’re alive and living at 4550 Cherry Tree Lane, you may not have a home to go back to.”
“What the devil is going on?”
Brock explained the story but left out an important detail he wasn’t ready to share. Darlene Richardson hadn’t lodged the complaint, and neither had one of “her gray-haired groupies,” as Liza liked to call them. It hadn’t taken much digging to discover a disgruntled neighbor had taken a poke at Brock. He hadn’t decided how he wanted to handle Mr. Hafner just yet, but he would, and the man would regret the day he put two innocent women on the chopping block to settle a score.
“So, we’re not in Knoxville?” Louise asked after Brock filled her in.
“Afraid not. The management office is in Memphis. After a quick stop at the bank for a notary, we’ll drop the letter and I’ll get you back to Cherry Creek.”
Her eyes brightened. “Another ride on that fancy plane?”
“The plane was a one-time deal. You’re stuck driving with me.”
“That’s gotta be what? Six hours?”
“Give or take.”
Louise slumped back into her chair. “You must really like my granddaughter if you went to all this trouble.”
After everything he’d done to find Gram and get her back, there wasn’t any reason to hedge. “I do.”
“Does she like you back?”
The million-dollar question. He supposed he’d find out when he showed up in Cherry Creek with Gram by his side. Would she be happy he’d stepped in and saved the day or bless him out for inserting himself into something she’d obviously deemed none of his business? “I think she does.”
“Well,” Louise perked up, stacking her palms atop her crossed knees and spearing him with a pointed stare. “We’ve got six hours to figure it out.”
