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“Sure he does,” Rebecca called out as she headed for the bathroom. “It’s totally safe sex he’s after. He’s no dummy.”

* * * *

They were sitting at the dining room table and talking while waiting on the attorney to arrive when Rebecca finally asked the question. “Any news on you-know-who?”

“Wow. I’m impressed. You went nearly a whole hour without stressing out over Sam.”

“Sorry. I’m paranoid.”

“Don’t be.” She started to say something else when they heard a car in the drive. “That must be Ed Payne. Hold that thought.”

She got up and let the attorney in. An older man, he wore a suit and tie and carried a laptop bag. Rebecca thought it was a little odd when Eliza greeted him with a warm hug. Rebecca stood when Eliza led him over to the table and made the introductions.

“Rusty and I know Ed,” Eliza explained. “He’s a friend of ours.”

“Ah.”

As they settled in at the table and he pulled his laptop out, he said, “Again, I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thanks.”

“As we discussed on the phone, I signed the paperwork allowing the Medical Examiner’s office to release your uncle’s body to the mortuary. I didn’t know what kind of urn you wanted, but we can go pick that out tomorrow.”

She nodded, trying to take everything in.

He pushed a set of keys across the table to her. “We checked these. They unlock the front and back doors to the house, his truck, and locks on the barn and storage sheds behind the house.”

“How bad is it?” she asked. “The house.”

“Honestly, I’ve seen worse. Unfortunately, the biological issue is that…well, at least the air conditioner was running in the house. Of course, the carpeting and furniture in the room he was found in should definitely be removed. The rest of the house is cluttered, but there was a sort of order about it, if that makes sense? It’s not like he was collecting garbage. My friend said your uncle was a middle-of-the-road hoarder. He was functional, and even his personal bedroom was fairly clear of items, but he was using the house for storage.”

“Should I just have an estate sale and be done with it?”

“Not until some cleaning and decontamination are done, no.”

Eliza squeezed her hand. “I think what he’s trying to say in a roundabout way is that when you have a body locked up for a couple of weeks in a house, you get bugs.”

He cleared his throat. “That’s one way of putting it, yes.”

“So then what do I do?”

He explained that nothing could happen until she signed a contract with the cleaning service anyway. But they had recommended renting a couple of portable storage units and putting them on the property so that the cleaning team could get the house cleared out. Then she could go through those items and decide what to keep and what to sell.

“I don’t even have a house of my own,” she said.

“You do now,” Eliza quipped.

He had her sign paperwork, and gave her checkbooks and other paperwork she’d need that they’d retrieved from her uncle’s desk. Ed also confirmed he’d go with her in the morning, first to the bank, to get her access to the accounts, then to file the probate papers, followed by the mortuary, and a final stop at the house to meet with one of the members of the clean-up company.

Rebecca had to cram a lot into a few days. She wanted to spend Thursday night in her own bed, if possible, and would be driving back down to Florida either late Sunday or early Monday morning, depending on how she felt, to get more done.

But it overwhelmed her.

By the time Ed left an hour later, Rebecca felt drained.

Eliza noticed. “Let’s go out to eat. Our treat. Pizza.”

“I really want to go out to Uncle Jack’s place and get a look at it.”

“We’ll do that after the Barbarian gets home.” That was Eliza’s nickname for her husband, Rusty. “Then dinner.”

When Rusty arrived, the three of them drove, with Rebecca navigating from the backseat, out to her uncle’s house.

They pulled up to the house. In the tall grass, Rebecca spotted plenty of places where it had been recently trampled, car tracks, and she could only imagine the sight of the ME’s van and deputies and other official vehicles parked there Saturday.

“You all right?” Eliza asked.

“Yeah. I want to see it now so it doesn’t slam me in the gut tomorrow.” She got out and went to the truck first. Nothing special about it, other than it needed to be washed. The Ford was about fifteen years old.

Also with her name in addition to her uncle’s on the registration and title. He seemed to be a man who thought ahead to save her aggravation.

She unlocked it and got in, relieved to see it didn’t look any worse on the inside than any average car. No piles of junk in the cab or in the bed under the topper. Just a small toolbox behind the seat.

It started on the first try, much to her relief.

“Know anyone who wants to buy a truck?” she asked.

“Don’t be so fast to sell it,” Rusty told her. “You might need it. Looks like it has a welded frame trailer hitch on it that’s gotten a lot of use.”

True. It seemed like she remembered her uncle had a trailer for his tractor and for taking stuff to swap meets. If she sold the truck, she’d have no way of getting the trailer and tractor to their new owners.

Then again, she might need the tractor for the property.

She was just getting out of the truck when two guys walked up the driveway. She’d spotted them emerging from the house next door a moment earlier and wondered if they were the ones who’d discovered her uncle’s body.

Eliza cocked her head quizzically as she studied the two men, but she didn’t say anything when they walked up.

Before Rebecca could question her friend, one of the men, a cutie with blue eyes and wavy, dark-blond hair, spoke up. “Hi. I’m Toby Sorto. This is my partner, Logan Benford. We live next door.” He stuck a hand out.

She shook with him. “Rebecca Hames. Jackson was my uncle.”

“Okay,” Logan said. “Ed stopped by and gave us a heads-up yesterday that you might be coming by soon. Your uncle’s attorney. We’re casual acquaintances with him. We have several mutual friends. We told him we’d keep an eye on the property and call him if we saw anything suspicious.” Logan had short, dark-brown hair and an intense hazel gaze. They were both hunks.

“Thank you,” she said. “I appreciate that.”

Eliza had cocked her head the other way, as if puzzling something, then looked like she made the connection. “Ah. That’s where I know you both from. The Suncoast Society munch.”

Rebecca swiveled her head and glared at her friend.

But apparently Toby was tracking. “Yes, I was trying to think where I knew you from, too. That’s it.”

Eliza smiled at Rebecca. “They’re in the lifestyle. We’ve seen them around. Not in a while, though. Glad to see you again.”

“I’m guessing,” Logan said, “that Rebecca is aware of what that means.”

“Yes.” Eliza hooked an arm through hers. “Bestie’s been on the road a few years, though. She’s sort of lost touch with the locals. This is my friend who makes the chainmaille collars and jewelry.”

“Ah!” Toby said. “Okay, yes. You’re the one from Chewi Chains.”

“That’s me.” Chewi the dog had been named after her business, which she’d named because of her love for the Star Wars character. Eliza was her local pimp, keeping the BDSM club Venture stocked with items and business cards.

“You’ve got gorgeous stuff,” Logan said. “It’s beautiful.”

She blushed a little, although not sure why. “Thank you.”

“Hey,” Eliza said. “You guys eat yet? We’re going to grab pizza when we finish here. Want to join us?”

The men shared a glance, nodding at each other. “Sure,” Toby said. “We’d love to.”

* * * *

“Why,” Rebecca muttered to Eliza as they started around the back of the house and headed toward the barn, “do I get the idea you’re trying to set me up with those guys?”