“Hold on a minute.” She hacked again. Took a slow, calming breath as she walked across the room. Pulled the door open.
Lydia stood on the other side.
“I’m sorry to bother you, Professor.” A bucket of cleaning supplies hung on one arm, and she held folded sheets and towels in the other. “I try to get the cottage done while you and Ms. Boyer are working, but the house took me longer today, what with the mess in the kitchen. Is this a bad time to clean?”
“First of all, it’s Cara. And now is fine.” Her pulse began to moderate. “I was about to take a walk around the lake, so I won’t be in your way.”
The housekeeper frowned. “You’re going walking alone?”
Cara’s antennas went up. “Yes. Is there any reason I shouldn’t?”
She shifted from one foot to the other. “No. I mean ... Micah’s in the house working. He shouldn’t be out and about.”
“Would it be a problem if he were?” It was possible Lydia knew more about the man than Natalie or Brad or Steven did.
“Well ... I guess not. He’s never been in any trouble that I know of. But he kind of creeps me out. I don’t know if I’d feel comfortable walking around in the woods with him roaming about. That could just be me, though. Ms. Boyer doesn’t seem to have any worries about him.”
No, she didn’t, and she’d had plenty of opportunities to observe him in the years he’d lived on the property.
Nevertheless, Lydia’s concerns were disconcerting.
Not that there was any reason to admit that.
“I’m sure I’ll be fine.” She forced up the corners of her mouth and patted the pocket in her sweatpants. “Besides, I have my pepper gel with me. Comes from city living, I suppose.”
“I think that’s smart. It always pays to be prepared. And Micah is probably harmless.” Her tone, however, suggested she didn’t believe that. “Are you certain you don’t mind me cleaning now?”
“Absolutely. Come in.”
The woman slipped past her. “Enjoy your walk.”
“Thanks.”
But despite her perfunctory response, the truth was she wouldn’t find the trek as relaxing now that it was obvious someone who knew Micah had reservations about him.
She did have her pepper gel, though, and as she struck off down the path, she pulled it out. Keeping it at the ready would help calm her nerves.
And once she came back, thirty minutes of stretching should help diffuse any residual tension and set her up for a productive afternoon of research and writing.
Tomorrow, she’d rinse and repeat.
Because she wasn’t going to let vague, groundless fears keep her cottage-bound.
Especially since Brad Mitchell hadn’t seemed too concerned about Micah. The sheriff came across as a smart man with sound judgment, and he hadn’t issued any warnings. And while they were new acquaintances, she was inclined to trust his instincts.
Even if Lydia’s wariness about the groundskeeper undermined her confidence in those instincts a tiny little bit.
“YOU EVER FIGURE OUTthe potholder puzzle?”
At the question, Brad swiveled in his chair to face his senior deputy, who’d propped a shoulder against the office doorway.
“No. I talked to the housekeeper and Paul. Neither claimed to have any knowledge of a burned potholder. I haven’t talked to the cousin who was there.”
“Are you planning to?”
“I don’t know.”
“You starting to come to the same conclusion we did? That Ms. Boyer threw it in the trash and doesn’t remember?”
