I nodded. “JuniperWhitlock’sgreat-niece is here to fix it up and sell it.”
A slow, curving smile worked up the side of his weathered face. “Youdon’t say.JuniperWhitlock. . .”Hedrew out the name like a question and a statement all in one. “Ihaven’t heard that name in a long time.”
I ripped into a packet of sugar and tapped it into my coffee. “Didyou know her?Backin the day,Imean.”
Ernie chuckled as he turned back to the flat top grill and fryers. “Idid.There’sonly a few of us old-timers left who were around back then.”
“Did she come in here often?”
Ernie wiped his hands on his overalls. “Well, back thenIwasn’t runnin’ this place.Iwas still workin’ the fishin’ trawlers.WhenIretired and started this joint, she’d come in from time to time.Juniperwas ill off and on in the years before she passed, and didn’t leave the house much.Noone saw her.Beinga shut-in made the tall tales get even taller.”
A dingy but clean beige ceramic plate appeared in front of me, piled high with a chicken biscuit and two eggs over easy.Erniereached beneath the counter and dropped a bear of honey in front of me.
“‘Preciate it,”Isaid asIscribbled down a few more things to get, then uncapped my chicken biscuit and squeezed the honey on the fried filet.
“So, tell me aboutJune’sniece.”
There was something about the way he said ‘June’ that pricked at my curiosity, but the urge to say something about it was overpowered by the biscuit.
“Drove all the way fromColoradoto spend the summer working on the house,”Isaid around the first bite.
“Long way from home,” he mused as servers and fishmongers whirled around him to keep up with the morning rush. “Lookslike you two hit it off.”Hechuckled. “Orsomething.”
I cocked my head asIdowned the biscuit.
Ernie tapped his cheek and it dawned on me thatDrewand the station crew weren’t the only people privy to the bruise on my face.
“We may have gotten off on the wrong foot,”Isaid.
Ernie snickered. “Awoman that can hold her own is a treasure.Don’tlet that one slip away.Yousweet on her?”
I laughed asIpawed around for the coffee. “Ijust met her.”
Ernie shrugged as he turned and left me to my breakfast. “Whenyou know, you know.”
He left me to stew on the cryptic comment whileIfueled up for the day.Itook my coffee to-go and promised to bring the mug back.
The trip toBeaufortwasn’t bad.Forty-five minutes there and back, with a half-hour tacked on in the middle to load up my truck with supplies, andIwas back before lunch.
Aurora’s car was still parked beneath the deck.Ithad a slight dent in the roof from where she had been using it as a stepstool.
Hopefully,Icould get the staircase revamped today.Thehaul of lumberI’dloaded into the bed of the truck took a nice chunk out of my bank account, butIwas doing a public service.Whatgoes around comes around.
Or at least that’s whatItold myself.
Instead of risking the stairs,Ipulled my truck up beside her car, opened the door, stepped on the driver’s seat, and grabbed the edge of the deck.Imuscled myself up and squeezed through a break in the railing rungs.
The front door was unlocked, soIlet myself in and looked around.Thehouse was already a far cry from what it had been twenty-four hours ago.Thewindows were sparkling as daylight flooded in from all directions.Thefurniture had been uncovered and arranged.Thefloors had been swept and cleaned as much as possible without industrial equipment, and the countertops were neat and tidy.
Brooms, mops, buckets and rags had been rinsed out and were drying on the ocean-front deck, just off the kitchen.Giantblack trash bags were stuffed full and tied off, ready to be removed.
OnceIgot the stairs up to a decent safety standard,I’dtake the garbage out for her.
I had to admit,Aurorahad been busting her ass.Thehouse still needed weeks worth of work, but it was easier to navigate and slightly less of a hazard.
Which left me to wonder, where was she?Hercar was still here and there were no shops or restaurants within walking distance.
Maybe she had gone out to the beach.
