And he no longer had to manufacture a pretext to drop by to see her, with all that had happened on this property—especially if the questions about Micah’s death continued to gnaw at him.
Perhaps the groundskeeper’s demise had, indeed, been innocent. An accident.
But he wasn’t yet ready to put this one to bed, as he’d told Natalie before he stopped in to see Cara. Not until the tox screen came back and he poked around for more clues that might help explain the anomalies continuing to raise red flags.
Because if there was more to Micah’s death than the investigation had revealed to date, a very bad person who should be behind bars was walking around free.
And nobody got away with manslaughter—or murder—on his watch.
THIS HADN’T BEEN PART OF HER PLAN.
Lips mashed together, Lydia flipped off the vacuum cleaner and pushed it toward Natalie’s utility closet.
The mere notion of having her brother hanging around here stunk. But she needed more time to convince Natalie that a live-in housekeeper was a smart idea—and Micah’s death had given her an ideal bargaining chip.
Suggesting to Randy that he could pick up some easy money doing handyman chores if she put in a good word for him had been the perfect carrot to dangle. The opportunistic blond floozy he’d fallen for had agreed to hold off on moving in while he earned extra bucks to put toward a bigger rock in her engagement ring.
Lydia stashed the vacuum and rolled her eyes.
Like a third of a carat was such an improvement over a fourth.
Nevertheless, the ploy had bought her a bit of breathing space.
But the faster she could vacate Randy’s revolting dump, the better.
Meaning she’d have to beef up her efforts to convince Natalie it would be in her best interest to stay in her home with a live-in housekeeper rather than move to St. Louis, like her cousin was recommending.
Planting a seed of danger with the professor had also been smart. Now that Micah had turned up dead on the heels of the fire, that seed could begin to sprout—with a little careful nurturing.
Lydia pulled a dust mop out of the closet. Picked up a rag from the stack and slung it over her shoulder.
Maybe she ought to spike Natalie’s wine with Ambien again. That had worked like a charm. The two back-to-back dizzy spells had helped build a strong case for a live-in housekeeper.
But Ambien came with risks. What if Natalie fell and injured herself, was forced to leave the property? Another fall would also add fuel to Steven’s attempts to persuade her to move to St. Louis. The man had brought that idea up to her no less than twice today.
Knowledge she’d gleaned through a bit of judicious eavesdropping.
The back door rattled. Clicked shut. Male voices rumbled in the kitchen, along with Natalie’s.
“...a cup of tea, Sheriff?”
“No, thank you. I have to be going. Steven said you had a question about the golf cart?”
Lydia eased closer, ear cocked toward the closed door that separated the kitchen and hall.
“Yes. I appreciate your efforts to arrange that, but I know it goes above and beyond the scope of your job. I’d like to compensate you and the friend who is providing it.”
“That’s not necessary, Ms. Boyer. Both of us are glad to lend a hand.”
“Well ... in that case, I’m most grateful. Let me walk you out.”
Before Lydia could scurry away, Steven opened the door from the kitchen and stepped aside as Natalie walked through.
“Oh, Lydia. We were just talking about Micah’s service at the lake. It will be one day next week. You’re welcome to attend if you like.”
She curbed an eye roll.
As if she cared about the strange man who’d always given her the creeps. Good riddance, as far as she was concerned.
