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Picking up a mug from the counter, she raised it. “No…actually I didn’t. I’m still trying to clear the cobwebs from the drinks I had at lunch.”
Ambling close, he straightened his tie and shrugged. “I have to admit this isn’t just a social call. I hate to ask, but how well do you know your friend Mike? What’s his deal?”
Jenna’s heart began to power walk, and she took a long breath to slow the escalating rhythm. “Deal? I’m not sure what you mean.”
Ash dipped his head as if he was unsettled by his own curiosity. “He’s um…doing some work over at Ina Cummings’ place.”
“That little farm by your development? I…I don’t understand. What do you mean work?”
“He’s fixing the place. Or at least making it look as though he is. I’m only asking you about him because I’m fond of the old girl. I’d hate to see her become victim to a con artist.”
Jenna laid her cup on the counter. Food, wine, an aperitif, and now coffee were all fighting for space in her stomach. “What would make you think he’s conning her?”
Ash’s expression softened more, his complexion almost glowing an earnest, boyish peach. “Targeting senior citizens has become an epidemic. Grifters find a vulnerable senior, offer to do some ‘work,’ collect the money, and disappear. Your friend’s appearance fits the narrative.”
While forcing herself to appear indifferent, Jenna instinctively wanted to spit on Ash Baldwin for having the nerve to think Eric would steal from anyone. “My friend isn’t a grifter or a thief. He’s probably just trying to help her.”
“But he isn’t.” The statement was firm. “She’s way behind on her taxes and is going to lose the place anyway. I offered her a good deal and now your friend is making her squander what little money she has left.”
Yawning moments of silence created an uneasy atmosphere. The air seemed charged with it. Jenna steered her sight to anything but the challenging glint in Ash’s eyes.
“Why Ina?” His concerned tone blanketed a demand.
“I don’t know.”
But Jenna did. Her heart knew why. Rich or poor, movie star, bartender, or carpenter, Eric was still trying to save people. It was his nature, and he’d been doing it since he was a kid.
****
Over midmorning coffee the next day, Jenna explained the idiosyncrasies of her cash register to Randi. “It has a mind of its own sometimes. If it rebels against you, just hit this button on the side and the drawer will open.” She gulped the remains of her double mocha latte and scolded herself for getting so caffeine-buzzed right before her errand.
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Randi asked.
“Yes, I have to convince Eric to leave Cromline. I have to tell Janie everything, and I don’t know how she’ll take the news. It would be best for her sake if he isn’t around so she doesn’t feel any pressure. After it all sinks in with her, then I’ll tell him.” She crossed her fingers. “Wish me luck.”
The ten-minute ride to the Cummings house gave Jenna a small opportunity to rehearse what she would say, but when she arrived her nerves still pricked the surface of her skin. She’d spent half her life plagued by the anxiety fueled muscle spasms that made goosebumps cover a person’s body. She cranked her car’s heat to fight the chill and then pulled into a driveway so bereft of asphalt someone could fall lost into the gaps. Slipping quietly from her car, she followed the sound of rock and roll to the back.
Eric was hunched over a rotted stairway and pulling at the treads with the claw end of a hammer. As Jenna watched him work, a decade easily faded away. He was dressed in overalls but wore no shirt beneath. His strong arms and shoulders were sun kissed copper. The familiar sight was like a flash of seductive memories that almost made Jenna forget her reason for being there. “Hi,” was all she could manage to say.
A smile lured the corners of his mouth upward, and he leaned back on his haunches, his hammer dangling from his fingers. He stood and wiped dirt from his hands on the thighs of his pants. “Hello. I was just thinking about taking a break…as long as that slave driver I’m working for doesn’t mind.”
Ina Cummings hovered close by, half hidden behind a forsythia bush. Unfurled yellow blossoms and green buds weren’t in bloom enough to disguise her busy pink housecoat. Eric winked and her face scrunched into an embarrassed looking pout. “I wasn’t eavesdropping,” she insisted. “I came over to offer your guest some of my freshly brewed iced tea. I put mint leaves in it, and it’s very refreshing.” She glared at Eric and crooked her head toward an outdoor faucet with a steady stream of water spilling from it. “You can suck on the end of that rusty spigot over there ifyou’rethirsty, wise ass.”
“You’re lucky I can work with the limited rations I’m on,” he teased.
Feathery brows lifted high on her forehead. “Humph, I’ll bet your dear old mama never fed you the way I do.” She stalked away and Jenna wondered if the elderly woman knew how true the remark was. Eric’s parents had never made caring for him a priority.
Sliding his hands into his pockets, he followed Ina’s departure with his eyes and laughed. “She’s a character, but I’m totally in love with her.” He turned to Jenna, his expression wistful. “It’s really good to see you.”
“I can’t stay long, but I need to speak with you. It…it’s important.”
“Good. It’s time we talked.”
Eric led Jenna to the patio, past rows of herbs and blooming perennials. The smell was intoxicating, the space as beautiful as anything featured in garden magazines. They stopped under a grape arbor, the knotty vines pinched back and just starting to sprout new growth. He inclined his head in the direction of a set of fussy wrought iron furniture.
“This was one of my first projects.” He pulled one of the lacy patterned chairs out for her. “I scrubbed this stuff for hours with a wire brush. It’s amazing what a little primer and some paint can do.”
Given the care to the property, Jenna couldn’t help but wonder if Mrs. Cummings really planned on selling the land. “It’s beautiful. In fact everything back here is beautiful.”
