“Oh hey, Bert. Hank said you might be stopping by.” I tried to keep the nerves out of my voice, but I wasn’t sure how successful I was when he gave me that patronizing smile—the kind people used when they thought they’d have to explain something. My father had perfected the same expression.
“I hope it’s okay that I did. I hadn’t been out to double-check and see how everything was going since you’ve been out there.”
Reasonable enough, but Hank’s text echoed in the back of my mind. I wasn’t that dumb. I knew an ulterior-motive opener when I heard one.
“Everything’s great, thanks. I’m just getting the beds put together upstairs.” I wished I looked a little more polished than a rainbow tank top and paint-splattered running shorts.
“Sissy really agonized about how much was too much when it came to setting this place up,” Bert said, glancing around the downstairs. “You’ve made a lot of changes.”
“Did she do renovations down here, or did it always look like this?”
“It was always a beautiful home, but it was set up as a house when she decided to will it to you. She did the renovations, though the bones were already good.”
“What did she have done besides the upstairs bathroom and tiling? I knew about that part.”
“She put in the commercial kitchen and renovated this main area—took out some walls to make it more open. She also redid the shower and added rails to the back bedroom with the roll-in shower. In fairness, that part was for herself. Toward the end, it was difficult for her to go upstairs.”
Bert’s sadness made it clear that Sissy had been more than just a client. At the party, he’d said she was an old friend, but I hadn’t known if that meant a real day-to-day friend or just someone he was friendly with who used his services. The sorrow in his voice told me their friendship had been real.
“Would you like the grand tour? I’ve been updating things.”
“I’d love a tour. Did Hank tell you I’m kind of into decorating myself?”
“No, he hadn’t mentioned that.” His pursed lips made me wonder what he was thinking, but like any good lawyer, his expression was hard to read.
“You wanna start in the living room?”
I took him on a tour of the living room, kitchen, and all the bedrooms. Bert seemed less interested in the nuts and bolts of the B&B, but he asked endless questions about my color choices for the walls. He fell over himself for the wildflower watercolors that were hung next to each door to mark the guest rooms. His suggestions for layouts in a few rooms were spot on.
In fact, Bert went out of his way not to ask anything intrusive. The diversion tactics were top-tier. He was probably a damn good lawyer, but he didn’t have anything on my brother. When Vaughn wanted information, it was like being interrogated by Interpol, no law degree required. Bert was good, but he’d wholly underestimated me.
“That’s the place,” I said brightly as we came back down the stairs. “This morning I made a lemon loaf. Would you like a slice on the porch with some tea?”
“I’d love some, thank you.”
I directed Bert to wait for me in one of the rockers, promising to be out shortly. I gathered myself in the kitchen before going back out. Regardless of why he was here, I wanted to make a good impression. Hank was his own man, but I knew Bert and Faust were the most important people to him. He mentioned them more than his own parents, which I had a lot of questions about, but I hadn’t figured out how to ask.
The moment required a little something fancy, so I snipped off some edible flowers from the pot on the kitchen steps and added them to the sweet tea. If we were about to start digging, I wanted my plate to be pretty while it happened. With a deep breath and fake confidence, I squared my shoulders and went out front with our tray of snacks.
“Sorry it took so long,” I said as I dropped down in the bistro chair across from him. “I went for fancy tea.”
“Don’t mention it. It gave me a chance to text Faust and try to convince him that he doesn’t want to have dinner at the Riverwalk tonight.”
“Successful?”
“Nope, not even a little bit. I learned a long time ago that my life is better when he’s happy. So, yeah, I guess we’re going to the Riverwalk for dinner tonight.”
“How long have you been together?”
“Give or take, thirty-five years. He gets mad because I can never remember the exact day. Or year,” Bert said with an easy laugh. He helped himself to a glass of tea and some of the lemon loaf. He settled against the back of the chair as if he wasn’t concerned about anything at all.
I was a rip-the-Band-Aid-off kind of guy.
“Why are you here?” I forced my voice to remain calm and even—a shaky voice wouldn’t help me stay ahead of whatever this was.
“To see the house.” His voice was deceptively calm. I’d watched enoughLaw & Orderto know when a lawyer was digging and working an angle.
“Yeah, I’m sure that was part of it. Thanks for the layout advice, but it’s not the only reason. If you just tell me, it’ll be easier on everyone.”
