Handcuffs in the Heather (Lovely Lethal Gardens Book 8) Page 6

  “If something’s there already,” he said, “we could pour concrete. Otherwise, you’d just get some of those concrete patio blocks and put them on top of some of that gravel. That’s not a problem.”

  She nodded. “Sounds good. I’ll have to think about it.” She walked back over and studied the deck. “Any idea what it would cost to build this deck addition?”

  “Well, if you do it yourself …”

  “How about I do it myself,” she said with emphasis, “but maybe with your help? I don’t know if we could get anybody else to help for a day or two. It’s one thing to pay for a day’s labor versus getting somebody in who actually does it from scratch. The thing is, I don’t know where to start.”

  “I’ve built a couple simple ones,” Mack said. “And this is fairly simple because we’re already almost at ground level, so we’re just coming off the deck that’s here. We don’t have to worry about anything else but putting a railing on it, unless you want stairs all the way around so you can sit on them.”

  She loved the idea of that. “But that’ll add more money too, won’t it?”

  He nodded. “Railings are not cheap, so that cost may counter the other cost.”

  She smiled. “You know what? I’m really liking this idea.” She hopped up onto the little deck and already it felt claustrophobic. She walked back inside, and he followed. She noticed the ring on the table in a plastic bag. She picked it up. “You should put that into your pocket, so it doesn’t get forgotten,” she told Mack.

  He took it from her, and his facial expression changed as he studied the ring.

  “Are we thinking that’s real?” Doreen asked.

  He tried to hold it in the light, but it was seriously dirty. It looked like a solitaire diamond and one of some serious size, but it was almost too perfect.

  “I think it’s fake,” she announced.

  “I wonder,” Mack said. “It will need a good cleaning.”

  “It’s been washed many times,” she said. “When you think about it, that garden has been watered time and time again.”

  He nodded and went over to the sink to put a little bit of water on the ring inside the bag, enough to rinse it. And then, he sealed the bag again. “I’m not sure if it is costume jewelry.”

  Doreen shook her head. “I think it is. But a good one. Like one someone wore and kept the real one locked up. So good enough to not have the fake of it be noticed. I’d say that’s at least a carat in size.” It was a not-too-contemporary setting with simple high sides and with a single diamond perched on the top. “That’s a traditional engagement ring look. But the more I look at it, I can see how fake it is.” Mack looked at her, and she continued, “Look for an inscription. They’re usually inscribed with something.”

  It took a bit to get the lighting just right because the band itself was fairly thin.

  “What was the woman’s name?” she asked, as she tried to look with him. “That’s an M showing.’

  “If it’s who I think it was,” he said, “her name was Meredith.”

  Chapter 8

  Saturday Late Afternoon …

  “It looks like you’ve got something about to blow Meredith’s case wide open,” Doreen said, matching his quiet voice. “I don’t know how that would have come off her finger.”

  “Well, it’s off her finger, unless you found a finger over there,” Mack asked, his voice thickening.

  She shook her head. “No, but again I wasn’t looking. The metal’s glint in the sunlight caught my eye. And remember. Goliath showed us this one.”

  He nodded. “I may have to go over there and take a good look at his garden.”

  “You probably should,” she said. “Now we’ve got handcuffs and a ring.”

  “I know,” he said. “I’m not liking this at all.”

  “No, but it makes my neighbor’s place a very interesting scene right now.”

  “Not so interesting,” he said. “This stuff has probably been there for a long time.” He looked over at the neighbor’s house and frowned. “Any idea how long he’s lived there?”

  She shook her head but pulled out her phone and said, “Nan will know.”

  He looked at her. “I can also check the property records.”

  She shrugged. She’d already dialed Nan. As soon as the voice on the other end called out cheerfully, Doreen said, “Good afternoon, Nan. Do you have any idea how long Richard has lived here?”

  Nan, as if understanding this wasn’t a joke but a more serious question, said thoughtfully, “You know? I’m thinking at least ten years.”

  “No longer than that?”

  “I don’t know. It’s been quite a while.” Nan’s voice was apologetic, as if she knew that wasn’t enough detail.

  “That’s all right,” Doreen said. “I can find out with an internet search.”

  “Is it important?”

  “Not too important,” Doreen said warmly. “I can find it out on my own.”

  “Okay then,” Nan said. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m doing fine. I’ve been gardening and am about to sit down and have spaghetti.”

  “Oh, lovely. Does that mean Mack is there with you?” Nan asked in that gushing tone of voice.

  “Yes,” Doreen said with a chuckle. “I made the sauce as he hovered over me.”

  Mack spoke over her, saying, “She did just fine.”

  Nan sounded thrilled at Mack’s voice. “Oh! I’m so happy, dear, so happy he’s giving you cooking lessons.”

  “We were just discussing maybe putting a deck out in the back.”

  “Did something happen to it?” Nan asked, puzzled.

  “No, no,” Doreen said. “It is still there, but we’re thinking of making a bigger one, where I can put couches or chairs and an umbrella for sitting outside in the sun. And maybe, you know, a barbecue.”

  “Oh, that would be lovely. Take some of that money you’ve been making and do something with it.”

  “That was the plan,” Doreen said. “But it’ll be quite a while before all that auction money is settled up, and I actually get a check. It depends if I can figure out how to make a deck happen before that with a lot less money.”

  “You sold those car parts,” Nan said. “If you take that money and exchange it for a bigger deck out back, that’s a perfect trade-off.”

  “Oh,” Doreen said. “I wasn’t even thinking about that, but it might be possible. It depends on the money situation. I haven’t a clue how much the taxes are on this place, and that’s coming up in a few months.”

  “Less than a few months,” Nan said. “You should probably already have the paperwork. I think it’s about five hundred dollars.”

  “Really? That’s not too bad then,” Doreen said. “I was expecting it to be about five thousand.”

  “Oh, maybe,” Nan said. “Honestly I’ve forgotten.” And then Nan hung up.

  “That’s not reassuring,” Doreen said, turning to Mack. “Five hundred to five thousand dollars is a huge difference.”

  “But to Nan, it’s only a zero,” Mack said with a chuckle. “And you can find out your property taxes easily. There’s a government website for that. You just put in your folio number for this place, and you’re good.”

  “And I’ll find that where?”

  “Good point,” he said. “In the paperwork from previous years.”

  “Oh, great,” Doreen said. “I suppose the taxation was held back because of the change of ownership.”

  “That would make sense. But that’s all right. You’ll figure it out. And it shouldn’t be that much. My taxes aren’t all that much, and neither are my mom’s.”

  “All that much?”

  “Maybe six to seven hundred dollars,” he said. “Start by figuring out what you want for a deck. Then we can work out what it would cost to get the materials and to do it ourselves because it’s only a little bit off the ground. I don’t think it’ll be that much, maybe two thousand dollars.”

  She swallowed
hard but nodded bravely. “Only two thousand. So, in theory, if I could pay the taxes and the other bills coming in with Nan’s cash in the bowl and my gardening jobs, I could still use some of the money from the car parts to put in a bigger deck.” At that, she stared outside and realized just how badly she wanted it.

  Mack nodded. “For the existing deck, all you have to redo is the boards. And they’re looking pretty old as it is, so you should take off these old boards, and we can slap some new ones down. You need the supports for the little roof over here, but you could take the railing off if you wanted it to match.”

  She loved the idea of that too. “Well, I guess the first thing to figure out is how many of those cinder blocks we need with the anchors to put on the big beams. I’ll have to do some research.”

  “You do that,” he said. Then he returned to the stove and said, “It’s time for you to stir the sauce.”

  She lifted the lid, but he pulled her back and warned her about the steam. When it dissipated, she stirred the spaghetti sauce, and its aroma filled the room.

  Mack, however, looked at the sauce critically and said, “It’s a little thick.”

  “Is it?” she asked with worry. “What do we do then?”

  “Well, water will distill down some of the flavor. Do you have more tomatoes? Tomato soup, crushed tomatoes, tomato sauce—anything that we can use to boost it?”

  She led him to the cupboard with the food and said, “This is what there is.”

  “Right. I remember this from cleaning it out last week. You really don’t have much, do you?”

  She shook her head.

  He nodded, went to the fridge, and pulled out five fresh tomatoes. He chopped them and added them.

  “I guess it really doesn’t matter, does it?” Doreen asked.

  “Straight tomatoes can make it very strong,” he said. “You can use tomato soup to cut some of that, if you want. You can also use a bit of cream.” And, at that, he opened the fridge, found her cream and poured in a hefty dollop. She watched in amazement as the cream turned the sauce into an ever-so-slightly lighter color.

  “So, now the tomatoes won’t be so acidic?”

  “You can also add sugar,” he said, “but I’m not a big fan because it’s too easy to ruin a good sauce.”

  “I don’t like sugar anyway,” she said.

  “Unless it comes in the form of zucchini bread?”

  She laughed. “Exactly.”

  Chapter 9

  Saturday Late Afternoon …

  “I was just thinking that this morning when I made the lemonade,” Doreen said. “Because every time I go see Nan, she has either zucchini bread or muffins or something else yummy to come home with me.”

  “That’s a good thing. She’s looking after you.”

  “Sure,” she said, “but shouldn’t I be looking after her?”

  Mack nodded. “And you are. You have to remember her mental state is what’s really important right now. She has food. She has a roof over her head. She has money to spend—but what she really has now is a granddaughter who adores her. So, you keep doing you, and she’ll keep doing what she does.”

  “I really like the sound of that,” Doreen said quietly.

  Just then Mack opened another cupboard, pulled out a big pot, and put it on the stove with a bang.

  “What’s that one for?”

  “The noodles,” he said.

  She brightened. “What about the water?”

  He nodded and said, “I put the teakettle on when you weren’t looking.”

  She glanced at the kettle, and, sure enough, it was full of boiling water. He poured it into the pot and turned on the water; then he refilled the teakettle and turned it back on again.

  “Does it make it faster this way?”

  “Well, it’s already boiled water, so it just has to heat up here because the pot itself has to heat up,” he explained. “By then, we can add more boiling water, and we should have enough to cook the pasta.”

  “So, does that mean we’ll eat soon?” Doreen asked in a woeful voice.

  He chuckled. “Yes, it does. But it’ll still be a few minutes, so we’ll turn down the sauce and let those tomatoes cook. And then we’ll leave the water here to boil, and I’ll walk over to the neighbor’s house to take a look at his heather.”

  She brightened.

  He shook his head.

  She frowned.

  He laughed.

  And she glared at him.

  “Yes, I’m going alone,” he said. “I want to make sure nothing else is over there.”

  “In that case, you should probably take my gardening gloves,” she said, as she walked to the veranda railing and snagged the pair she had been using.

  He looked at her and shook his head.

  “Why? What’s wrong with my gloves?” Then she looked down at them. “They’re perfectly fine for me.”

  Mack took one of the gloves, slapped it up against his hand, and said, “This is why.”

  Doreen snickered. “It’s not my fault you’re oversized.”

  “I’m not oversized,” he growled. “And, if I’m not allowed to make weight comments about you, then you’re not allowed to make weight comments about me.” And, with that, he spun on his heels and headed to the front door.

  She wasn’t sure if he was joking or if she’d offended him. She ran behind him and called out, “It’s fine, you know.”

  At the door, he paused to look at her and asked, “What’s fine?”

  “Your weight.”

  He burst out laughing. “I know it is,” he said. “And, besides, not everything that’s oversized is wrong.”

  As soon as he said that, he winked at her and disappeared. She felt red-hot color wash up her neck and cheeks. And then she laughed because she’d asked for it by using that word. But still, with the animals trying to follow Mack, she was forced to stay inside because, as soon as she opened the door, all the animals would run over to the house next door. And she already knew that was a no-go. The neighbor didn’t like her to begin with. And he didn’t like her animals either.

  She watched through the living room window as Mack went outside, knocked on the neighbor’s door, and had a short conversation with Richard. Mack then walked to the heather with Richard, who was almost wringing his hands, as if worried about what else could possibly be found. Or worried he’d be blamed.

  Mack continued to talk to him, but the conversation was too quiet for her to hear, and that drove her crazy. Mack went through the brush carefully, trying not to disturb anything, and then finally straightened and smiled at Richard, who looked relieved. As Mack walked toward her, she returned to the kitchen, so it didn’t look like she’d been waiting for him, and stirred the sauce again.

  As soon as he walked inside, the animals were immediately all over him, as if he’d been gone for hours. He scooped up Goliath this time and carried him into the kitchen. Goliath was half perched on his shoulders with his big guttural engine engaged, as Mack checked on the sauce.

  “So, you didn’t find anything, huh?” Doreen asked.

  “Nope,” he said cheerfully. “Much to his and my relief.”

  “Won’t matter,” she said. “You already have the engagement ring.”

  “She was a hooker,” Mack said briefly.

  At that, Doreen rounded on him, her hands going to her hips. “She might have been a hooker, but that doesn’t mean she couldn’t fall in love, find a partner, and try for a better life.”

  “Hey, hey, hey, I didn’t mean it that way.”

  “Yes, you did,” she said mutinously.

  He rolled his eyes at her, lifted the teakettle, and added all the boiling water to the pot. “Maybe I did,” he said. “That was poor judgment on my part. She probably did want a different lifestyle.”

  “What you’re also forgetting,” she said, “is someone in a vulnerable lifestyle needs to work for money. She’s hardly going to throw away a diamond ring.”

  “Maybe,”
Mack admitted. “But we have yet to know if it’s real or not. I’ll wait until I get that back from the office.”

  “So, you will reopen the case now, right?”

  He gave a heavy sigh. “I don’t really have much choice but to take a closer look.” He replaced the lid on the pasta pot and then lifted it again and poured in a hefty amount of salt.

  Doreen stared at him.

  “We’ve been over this before,” he said. “The salt is needed. None of the spaghetti I’ve cooked so far has tasted salty, has it?”

  She shook her head. “No, you’re right. I don’t understand why, but that seems to be the way of it.”

  “Exactly, so no panicking.”

  She grinned. “When can we put in the pasta?”

  “In a few minutes,” he said. “Hungry?”

  “Starving,” she said, laughing. “And so are all the critters.”

  While she waited for the pasta to cook, she fed the animals. And then she stepped out on the deck and studied the little bit of a deck she had now. If she could get a bigger deck, she would really love that. She hopped off the side, mentally marking off how far she’d like it to go. She needed to go back inside. She didn’t have a tape measure with her, but she wanted at least twelve feet added to her little deck, which would make it probably seventeen feet total, so then another three feet would be even better. She took a large step and turned to face it, then nodded. She saw Mack by the doorway and said, “I do think twenty feet might be good.”

  “Twenty feet is big,” Mack said. “We’ll have to measure it off and put up some sticks or something for you to visualize it better. So you can figure out if it’s too big.”

  “Meaning it would dominate the backyard?”

  “Yes,” he said. “You still want things to look proportionate.”

  “Right. In that case, sixteen is probably not bad.”

  “After dinner we’ll check,” he said. “If I don’t get called into work again, which I have been every day this week, we’ll take out the tape measure and put some sticks in the ground, so you can think about it.”

  She beamed at that idea. “The spaghetti will be at least ten minutes …”