“You’re worried about your dream girl.”
Howard looked up, surprised. There were times when he wondered if Tino had inherited some of his mother’s psychic abilities. He could be incredibly perceptive for a five-year-old.
“You should go see her,” Tino suggested.
Howard finished setting up the board. “I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
He shrugged. “I don’t want to seem too pushy. Or desperate. I might scare her away.”
Tino laughed. “You’re not scary.”
Howard smiled. “She doesn’t know me like you do.”
Tino nodded and fiddled with his chess pieces. “Oh!” He sat up suddenly. “I forgot. I have homework. For math class. It’s due this afternoon.”
Did he really? Howard suspected the boy was making excuses to get out of playing a game that hadn’t lived up to his expectations. “Well, then you’d better get to it.” He lifted Tino off the chair.
“Bye, Howard!” Tino grinned at him, then skipped out of the office.
Howard returned to his desk to finish reading the news article on his laptop.
He called Harry. “Great job.”
“Thanks.” Harry sounded excited. “Everything’s going just as we planned. The mainstream news has latched on to the story.”
“Really? That’s good.”
“Yeah. Rhett’s in town today, and the reporters are all over him like vultures. He’s denying he made the campaign contributions, but the candidates are saying he did and they can prove it. He’s got a deer-in-the-headlights look, which is really funny on a wolf.” Harry laughed. “I’ll send you a photo.”
“Good.” Howard wished he could personally see Rhett having an anxiety attack, but it was better if he was far away. Out of sight, out of mind, hopefully.
“I’m running an article tomorrow on how he’s harassing those bankrupt towns,” Harry continued. “And I’ve got three more exposés after that. He’ll never be able to run for office once I’m through with him.”
“Great. But be careful, bro. Keep it anonymous.”
“Don’t worry. My editor agreed to leave off the byline.” Harry paused, then his tone turned serious. “I started investigating what happened to our dads.”
Howard blinked. “Why? It was a fire. A lightning storm.”
“That’s what we were told, but we were so young at the time, we never questioned it.” Harry sighed. “I checked the records, and there was no storm that night.”
Howard stiffened. If the fire had been man-made, then their fathers were murdered.
“I’ll see what I can find out,” Harry said. “Okay?”
Howard gritted his teeth. “Do it.”
“Are you sure?” Alastair hesitated on the front porch of the gatehouse.
“I’ll be fine here,” Elsa insisted. “There’s no point in both of us going.”
“All right, luv. I shall return with a sandwich forthwith. Or whatever sustenance I can find.” He headed to the rental car. “Cheerio.”
“Mustard, no mayo,” Elsa called out, then waved as he drove off toward Cranville.
He’d been wily enough last night to wheedle an extra key from Shanna, and they had spent the morning taking photos and documenting problems they found in each room. It was all part of their plan to show Shanna how excited and dedicated they were over the proposed renovation.
Elsa returned to her notepad in the old house’s kitchen. There would be a ton of work needed there. New plumbing, new appliances, new countertops, new floor. The old cabinets were solid wood and salvageable, but she doubted there were enough of them to suit a modern owner. This was her area of expertise—woodwork. And it was the sort of challenge she loved. She could fashion new cabinets that were an exact match to the old ones.
Last night, she’d told Howard it was all about family. And it was. She could feel it most strongly here in the kitchen. How many meals had been prepared in this room? How many families had gathered around this old wooden table? Quite a few, since the gatehouse had been built in 1892. She ran a hand over the scarred table. If it was up to her, she’d make sure this old house continued to be a home for another hundred years.
She ventured into a small room next to the kitchen and halted with a wince. The boards were giving too much under her weight. She knelt for a closer look. Wood rot. The window was missing a few panes, so rain and snow had probably come inside. She noted a few huge washtubs leaning against the wall. The room may have been used as a primitive laundry room or bathroom, so there could be a history of spilled water. She exited and stuck a Post-it note on the door. Danger. Floor about to collapse.
She headed back toward the foyer and gasped. There was a little boy standing just inside the front door, gazing up at the cupola.
He spotted her and waved. “Hi!”
“Hello.” She strode toward him. “You shouldn’t come in any further. It’s not entirely safe.”
“Okay.” He smiled. “I’m Tino.”
“Pleased to meet you.” He was an angelic-looking little boy with blond curls and big blue eyes. “I’m Elsa.”
“I know. I came to see you.”
That’s odd. “That’s nice.” She peered out the front door but didn’t see a car or anyone else. “Do you live close by?” When he nodded, she asked, “And you came here all alone?”
He lifted his chin. “I don’t need a babysitter. I’m five years old.”
She winced inwardly. That was much too young to be wandering about the countryside. “Where are your parents?”
“They’re asleep.”
She swallowed down a gulp of indignation that parents could leave such an innocent child on his own. Twinges of her own abandonment at the age of three needled her. She would take this boy home and have a few words in private with his parents. “Do you mind if I walk you home?”
Tino grinned. “That would be great.”
“Just a sec.” She wrote a quick note to Alastair on her notepad and left it by the front door where he would see it. Then she grabbed her handbag and ushered the boy outside.
She closed the door. “Do you know the way home?”
“That way.” Tino pointed at the woods.
She winced. “You live in the forest?” The dark, creepy forest?
“That’s just a shortcut. Come on.” Tino took her hand and led her down the steps and across the driveway.
Sure enough, there was a path through the woods. She held onto the little boy’s hand and gazed around. It was a bit darker, but not all that creepy. Very pretty, actually. The dimmer light seemed to make the colors brighter, not so washed out by the sun. It was cooler here, and quite pleasant to be surrounded by her favorite color, green. She took a deep breath. It even smelled good.
A noise behind her made her jump.
Tino giggled. “It’s just a squirrel.”
“Right.” She smiled at him. There was nothing to be afraid of. She’d seen plenty of squirrels around their house in the suburbs of Minneapolis.
She glanced back. There were three squirrels now. Were they following them?
She exhaled in relief when they stepped out onto the main road. “Okay, which way?”
“Down there.” Tino let go of her hand to point.
She started walking beside him. Wasn’t the school Shanna had warned them about down this road? And she’d promised to never go near it. Maybe the little boy lived somewhere on the way. “How far do we go?”
Tino shrugged. “A few miles, I think.”
She halted. “You walked miles?”
“No.”
“Then how did you get here?”
He wrinkled his nose as if searching for an answer. “I’m special.”
She smiled. “I’m sure you are, but that doesn’t really explain how you got here.”
“I’m not supposed to talk about it.”
Huh? Maybe she should wait till Alastair returned with the car. She glanced back and gasped.