“You wouldn’t have to worry about trespassers in St. Louis.”
“I do see the advantages of such a move. And I promise to give it serious consideration.”
“If you decide to relocate, I can handle all the logistics for you.”
“You’re such a dear boy.” She patted his hand and stood. “I’m going to reheat my tea. Would you like more coffee?”
“I’m fine.” He drained his mug. “Is the new housekeeper coming today?”
“No, not until Tuesday.” She slid her mug into the microwave, then crossed to the refrigerator and surveyed thecontents. “I may have to run into town and do some grocery shopping today.”
A perfect excuse to get away from her cloying solicitude.
“Why don’t you let me do that for you?” He stood. “I was going to go in anyway. My cell service has been spotty since I arrived, and I have to call a few clients.”
“Do you feel up to driving?”
“Yes. I think the fresh air will help. Write me out a list while I get my keys and wallet.”
The corners of her lips rose. “I can see the benefits of having you close by. Much as I like Cara’s suggestion about the cottage, it wouldn’t be like having family on hand.”
“Hold that thought.”
He left the kitchen, his mouth flattening as he strode down the hall.
Cara was proving to be a colossal pain in the butt, with her flashlight sightings and cottage rental suggestions.
She couldn’t be gone soon enough to suit him.
So it was possible he’d have to expedite her departure if Natalie continued to balk at his suggestion to move.
For now, though, he’d ratchet up his search and hope he’d strike pay dirt soon.
Because if he did, getting control of Natalie’s financial affairs wouldn’t be as urgent. He could always continue that campaign going forward, come up with tactics to make her doubt her self-sufficiency.
And who knew? Maybe the dizzy spells would return, or she’d have another lapse, like with the potholder.
Undermining her confidence in her ability to sustain an independent life would be child’s play compared to what he’d had to do with Micah—and far less taxing than rooting about in a bat-filled cave.
He entered his bedroom and picked up his keys and wallet from the dresser. Blew out an annoyed breath.
Grocery shopping stunk. But it was a small price to pay for an excuse to get out of the house.
And when he came back, he’d take a long nap. Natalie wouldn’t question that, after his injury.
But in reality, he wanted to be fully rested by tonight so he could put in extra hours searching for the treasure that had to be within grasp. There were a finite number of passageways, and all of them eventually dead-ended. Only a handful were left to explore.
And now that he’d done his homework, knew how to go about selling ill-gotten jewels and artwork, he was ready to cash in.
Jingling his keys, he retraced his steps down the hall, collected the list from Natalie, and let himself out through the front door.
If the cache in the cave was as rich as it sounded based on his grandfather’s list, he might not even have to worry about convincing his cousin to move.
Wouldn’t that be nice?
He could leave her here to rot in her forest and go back to the occasional obligatory visits designed to convince her he cared in order to secure his inheritance down the road. There was no question that she’d continue to fall hook, line, and sinker for his devoted cousin act, as she always had.
He snickered as he approached his BMW.
