Mason glanced at the sign and then jerked a thumb at Joe. “Take it up with him.”
He kept walking. Joe paced at his heels. When they reached the small parking lot, Mason opened the rear door of his car. Joe jumped up onto the backseat and sat.
“Try not to embarrass me like that again,” Mason said. “If we get arrested for violating the leash law, I’m not going to take the fall for you.”
Joe appeared unconcerned. He sat at attention, ears pricked, gaze focused on the view through the windshield. He was on duty, riding shotgun in the rear seat.
Mason shut the door, went around to the other side of the car and got behind the wheel. He was pulling out of the parking lot and turning onto Main Street when he saw the familiar figure entering Fletcher Hardware.
It was hard to imagine Warner Colfax engaging in a little DIY home-repair work. Odds were Colfax intended to try to apply pressure to Deke.
“Good luck to him, is all I can say,” Mason remarked to Joe.
If anyone in town could handle Warner Colfax, it was Deke.
It was still early. The daily tourist rush was not due to start for another few hours. The light traffic enabled Mason to make good time through town. He made even better time once he was on the road that would take him to Sara’s house.
Ten minutes later, he turned onto the narrow lane that cut through the old apple orchard. The Gravensteins had not been picked that summer because Sara and Mary were gone. The apples hung heavily from the trees.
There was a long black car parked in the drive next to Lucy’s compact. If Nolan Kelly had intended any harm to Lucy, it seemed unlikely he would leave his vehicle parked in front of her house. Still, like a lot of other people these days, Nolan wanted something from Lucy.
Mason shut down the engine, got out and opened the rear door for Joe. They went up the front steps together. Mason hit the doorbell, but he did not wait for Lucy to respond. When he tried the knob, he discovered that the door was open, so he let himself into the front hall.
“Lucy?” He resisted the urge to add, “I’m home.”
“We’re in the kitchen,” she called.
She sounded fine. Mason told himself to relax. He had overreacted. It occurred to him that he had developed a disturbing tendency to do that a lot when it came to Lucy.
He went into the kitchen, Joe at his heels. Lucy and Nolan were at the table, huddled around a computer. There was a photo of a house on the screen.
Nolan managed a smile, but he did not look pleased by the interruption.
“Hello, Mason,” Lucy said. She gave him a severe stick-to-my-script look. “Nolan is showing me some listings for other, similar houses in the area so that I can get an idea of the value of this place.”
“I told you, the house is nice, but it’s not nearly as valuable as the land,” Mason said. He pulled out a chair, turned it back to front and straddled the seat. He folded his arms on the back of the chair. “But I’m sure Nolan has already explained that to you.”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I did explain that to Lucy.” Nolan’s jaw was clenched, but he managed to keep the smile going. “The property will certainly appeal to someone who wants to establish his own winery.”
“I hate to think of all those lovely old apple trees being destroyed,” Lucy said, “but I’m not a fanatic about saving the Gravensteins like Sara was.” She smiled. “After all, I like wine, too.”
“Glad to hear that,” Nolan said. “Because I’ve got just the buyer for you.”
“The thing is, my father insists that the house should be given a bit of a face-lift in order to get the best possible price.”
“I agree the house is a fine example of the Craftsmanship style,” Nolan said patiently. “I’m just trying to point out that you don’t need to sink a lot of money into it before you put it on the market.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not planning anything major,” Lucy said. “I don’t have a lot of cash to pour into the house. I appreciate your time, Nolan. I’ll think about these numbers and get back to you when I’ve made some decisions.”
Nolan hesitated. but the salesman in him must have concluded that it would not be wise to press for the listing.
“Excellent,” he said. He shut down the computer, got to his feet and took out a small silver case. “Here’s my card. Call me if you have any questions, night or day.”
“Thanks.” Lucy gave him a warm smile. She rose. “I’ll see you to the door.”
“Thanks.”
Mason watched the two of them walk across the kitchen and go into the hall. He got out of the chair and followed at a leisurely pace. Lucy glanced back and shot him a warning look. He widened his hands and gave her a polite I’m-not-trying-to-interfere look in return. He was behaving himself.
He stopped in the kitchen doorway and propped one shoulder against the jamb. He watched Nolan glance uneasily into the living room.
“Hard to believe Brinker’s body was in that fireplace all these years,” Nolan said.
“I don’t think there’s any need to mention that in the listing,” Lucy said smoothly.
“No, no, of course not,” Nolan said quickly. “But talk about weird. I don’t suppose you have any idea why your aunt, uh, did that?”
“She must have had her reasons,” Lucy said.
Nolan winced. “A lot of people may have had reasons to get rid of Brinker.”
“Really?” Lucy said.
Mason had to hand it to her. She did innocent very well.
Nolan tightened his grip on the handle of the computer case. “He’d smile at you one minute, as if you were his best friend in the world, and the next minute he would stick a knife in your back. It’s not hard to believe that he was the Scorecard Rapist. I don’t even want to think about what this town would have been like if he had hung around any longer than he did that summer. He was smart, he was rich and he was a total sociopath.”
“A real bad combination,” Mason said.
Nolan nodded grimly. “A lot of folks were damned relieved when he disappeared. If you ask me, Sara did everyone a favor by getting rid of him.”
Lucy cleared her throat gently. “As I recall, you were part of the crowd that hung around him that summer.”
“Yeah.” Nolan grimaced. “I was thrilled at first. But the big thing you learned sooner or later about Tristan Brinker was that there was always a price to pay for the privilege of being on his A-list.”