Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
When I opened the door, I nearly let out a scream. Sally stood there, a frown on her face, and her arms immediately folded across her chest.
“Sally, you scared the hell out of me.” I laughed.
“What are you doing in the guest house?”
I looked past her to the large house on top of the hill. It had an even better view of the lake, even though the guest house was practically on the lake. The boat house was next to it and held my father’s precious boat, which he never took out…because all he ever did was work.
“I thought I would stay in the guest house.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re staying in here and not up at the main house?”
With a laugh, I said, “Sally, that house is huge. I’m more comfortable here.”
She looked past me. “It hasn’t been cleaned in about a month.”
“How dirty could it be with no one ever here?”
Her eyes darted back to mine. “Don’t sass. I’ll have someone come and clean it and put fresh sheets on the beds.”
The guest house had two bedrooms and two bathrooms, but the living, dining, and kitchen areas were all one giant space.
“That’s not…”
I stopped talking when one of her brows arched. I knew that look and decided I needed to let this fight go.
“Fine, have someone come in and clean.”
“Have you unpacked?”
Glancing back into the living room, I saw the suitcase I had quickly packed. “I only have one suitcase, but I’ll have to return to the city to pack up my place.”
“Pack it up?”
“I’m selling it.”
Her mouth fell open. “Where will you live?”
Looking around, I said, “Well, I’m living off the folks for now.”
She smiled. “Where are you off to now?”
“Breakfast. I’m starving.”
The corners of her mouth twitched, and I could tell she was trying not to laugh. “Kian, it’s nearly one.”
I lifted my arm to look at my Fitbit but realized I hadn’t put it on. “Shit, is it really?”
“It is. Why don’t you come up to the house and I’ll make you something.”
I stepped out of the house and kissed Sally on the cheek. “Thanks, Sally, but I want to head into town. It’s been a few years since I’ve been home, and I’d like to pop over and say hi to Aunt Opal.”
“You better get to hopping then. They close at three. She might even be able to make you something to eat.”
“At the bakery?”
She shrugged. “It’s Opal. She can whip up anything.”
“Do you want me to bring you anything back?”
Rubbing her hands together, she bounced on her toes in excitement. “If they have any of Cadie’s banana nut bread, will you get some?”
“Cadie?”
A wicked twinkle appeared in her eyes. “That’s right, you wouldn’t know about Cadie Waterford!”
Ignoring the noises from my stomach, I asked, “Who is she?”
She looked around as if making sure no one would hear her, even though we were the only two people around for literally miles. Lord, she was about to gossip.
“Well,” she started in a lowered voice.
I fought the urge to roll my eyes.
“Cadie Waterford showed up about three weeks ago…give or take a few days. She simply appeared in town one day and saw that Opal was hiring and she applied. Said she worked at a few bakeries on the West Coast and in Chicago, but anytime anyone asks her where, she is very vague.”
“Vague?”
“Yes!” she said, nodding her head so hard and fast I was worried she was going to hurt herself. “She won’t tell anyone where she is from and simply says she’s lived here and there. The two bakeries, though, that she worked for were in Portland and Chicago. She got a wonderful recommendation from both bakeries, and Opal said she is a whiz when it comes to baking.”
“Well, that’s good.”
“That she is so secretive?”
I laughed. “No, that she can bake!”
“Oh, yes. I haven’t spoken to Opal, but Macy met Cadie yesterday and gave her the third degree.”
Groaning, I said, “Macy was here?”
“Yes, she wanted to let me know to expect you, and she wanted to see Opal. She said Cadie seems nice, but she doesn’t like talking about herself.”
“I don’t see what is so strange about that. Not everyone is obligated to tell their life story.”
Sally crossed her arms once again. “Won’t say where she is from, hasn’t mentioned any family, drove into town one day and stayed, pays cash for everything, and if you ask me, I think she dyes her hair.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake, Sally. How many women dye their hair? Millions! Leave the poor girl alone. Maybe she’s just wanting a fresh start.”
“We think so as well, but Betty Lou thinks she might have killed someone. Like maybe her husband got too handsy, and she popped him off.”
It was my turn to raise my brows. “Popped him off?”
She nodded. “Killed him.”
“I know what you mean. That is crazy. I think Betty Lou should stop watching those mystery movies, and why are you listening to the town gossip?”