switched on the siren and light again then swung around, watching as she did the same. He led her the short distance to the fork, turned down the correct side and easily found his way to her new place. He had only lived on Wild Boar for a few months, but he was already familiar with just about every inch of it. There weren’t very many inches, after all.
Pulling up in front of the old Wymer place, which was now empty since the elderly owner had moved in with her equally elderly, also-widowed sister in town, he drove around to the small cottage in the back of the property. The sisters clearly hadn’t given much thought to the condition of the place. Weeds choked the front garden, and the small fence lining the cobbled walkway sagged, as if on the verge of collapse. Paint was peeling off the cottage’s siding, and the front door was pitted and sorely in need of a coat of wood stain.
Lindsey pulled up next to him and got out of her car, her shoulders slumping as she eyed what would be her home for the next couple of months. “Well, it’s not exactly as I pictured it.”
“Couldn’t you stay at your friend’s house while she’s gone? Isn’t she staying somewhere near the hospital on the mainland close to her baby?”
“Yes, but her husband works here, and he’ll be at home most work nights. I barely know him. It would be really awkward.”
That did pose a problem.
“Maybe it’s not so bad inside,” she said.
He heard a note of optimism in her voice and didn’t have the heart to disagree. Hoping she was right, he pushed open the creaky gate and walked up onto the porch, the boards of which sank beneath his feet with every step. “Dry rot,” he said. “Be careful coming in and out of this place.”
She nodded. “Mrs. Wymer said the key is under the mat.”
“Let’s hope that part of the porch hasn’t collapsed and the mat’s not covering a giant hole,” he said, bending to check. Fortunately, the flooring was still intact and the key was in place. Retrieving it, he rose and unlocked the door. “Why don’t you let me go in first? I can’t say for sure there are wild animals in there, but I wouldn’t be surprised if a raccoon or some squirrels had made a home out of your cottage.”
“Oh, God, when does that ferry leave again?” she mumbled.
Considering that by the end of their journey, she’d appeared ready to drop to her knees and kiss dry land, she, too, must be very concerned about what they would find behind the locked door.
Fortunately, though, they were both wrong. Because, while Mrs. Wymer might not have been able to do anything about the outside, as soon as he pushed open the cottage door, he realized the inside had been cleaned and freshened. The air smelled of pine and the wood floors gleamed. The cushions on an old-fashioned sofa had been plumped, and fresh flowers sat on a coffee table in front of it.
“Thank heaven,” Lindsey said as she walked in, a smile breaking over her face as she looked around her new home.
There wasn’t much to see, and he could glimpse almost all of it from right where he stood. The front door opened into a decent-size living room. To the left was a small kitchen, and through a door to the right he spied a bedroom with, he had to note, a nice-size bed.
Don’t think about her bed . Mentally going down that road with this sexy woman would lead only to frustration and a need to get reacquainted with his hand.
“You really had me scared for a minute,” said Lindsey.
“I was scared myself. She must have hired somebody to come out and get things ready for you.”
Lindsey was crossing to the kitchen table, where a plastic-wrapped plate of cookies sat, decorated with a bow and a card. She opened it. “Yes, this says that’s exactly what she did.”
“Excellent.”
“Oh, I needed this so much I think I’ll offer her a kidney if she ever wants one. She says she left coffee, sugar and creamer, too!” She immediately turned toward the pantry,
Learning to Kill: Stories