Chapter 14 #2
When they came back into the kitchen and began checking water pressure, and the condition of the cabinets and built-ins, she had no concerns about any of it.
The appliances were installed new, less than a month before her mother’s death, and the countertops had been replaced at the same time.
Nora loved them and hoped the new owners would, too.
The Realtors were back in the living room and smiling as they sat down with her.
“Nora, this house is delightful. It has such a warmth and welcoming vibe,” Patty said. “I have a couple of questions. Are you taking the furniture with you, or do you plan to sell it?” Patty asked.
“I won’t be taking it. Before I leave, I will have given away every piece of furniture in this house to any of the residents of Crossroads who want it.”
Patty blinked. “You don’t want to hold an auction?”
Nora shrugged. “It’s like putting my parents on the auction block and waiting to see what people think of them. How high will they bid? How low does it go? I’d rather know someone has it who wants or needs it.”
Patty stared long and hard at Nora for a good five seconds, and then leaned forward. “What do you do for a living?”
“I’m in IT,” Nora said. “Will I need to hire an assessor to put a monetary value on the property?”
“That’s part of Lee’s side of Thomas Realty. He’s licensed and everything,” Patty said.
Nora shifted focus to him. “I’ll base my decision on an asking price relevant to the assessment value, so let me know as soon as possible as to your decision.
Nobody will be fighting for this property.
There will be no bidding wars. There is no reason to buy a house in the middle of nowhere, unless you already know what’s here.
Few amenities. No law. A small school system, basic businesses, and an ER that operates with two nurses on duty and a doctor who shows up once a week.
Fully capable, of course,” she said, and held up her hand with the visible stitches for proof.
Patty sighed. “Yes, I know all too well, which is why I left.”
“I’ll do some figuring today and get back to you,” Lee said.
“And I’ll get some comps for the area to help you decide…if you still want us to represent you,” Patty said.
“That will be fine,” Nora said. “And yes, I do, and the contract is agreeable. Shall we adjourn to the dining table to finish this up?” and then got up and led the way.
A short while later, they were gone, and there was a big red-and-white Thomas Realty sign in the front yard, announcing the finality of her decision. FOR SALE.
It wasn’t a death notice, but it felt a little like it to Nora as she paused in the hall beside the grandfather clock.
“I’m sorry. But I’ll find someone who’ll love you as much as Mama and Dad and I did. You won’t be empty anymore. I promise.”
* * *
Everett Brandt’s fever finally broke during the night, and by daylight, he was up, his bed stripped of sheets and in the laundry along with what he slept in.
When Freddie woke up to the sound of laundry and the scent of coffee, he knew Everett was up; he thought he’d test himself and see if being upright still made the room spin.
To his relief, it did not, and he went in search of a cup of coffee, too.
“Everett! We’re better, aren’t we?” Freddie said as he entered the kitchen.
“Feels like it. Not taking any chances though. Toast and coffee first just to see if it sets okay on our stomachs,” he said.
Freddie poured himself a cup and sat down before reaching for a piece of dry toast. Without butter, it didn’t look very appetizing, so he dunked a corner of it in his coffee and took a bite.
“Why are we doing laundry so early?” Freddie asked as he was chewing.
“Washing the sheets I’ve been sleeping on to get rid of all the germs. Soon as you finish eating, strip your bed and I’ll wash yours, too. And your pajamas.”
Freddie nodded, swallowed the last of his toast, and reached for another.
The television was on in the other room. Freddie wasn’t listening, but Everett was, and all of a sudden, he bolted from the table and ran for the remote to turn up the volume.
Freddie followed. “What’s happening?” he asked.
“They just announced the Briscoe County Sheriff is holding a press conference this morning, about the shooting at the Tumbleweed Bar. It starts after the commercial. Sit down and listen. We need to know what they know. Understand?”
“Everett, are we going to jail?” Freddie whispered.
“If they knew who they were looking for, we’d already be there, and why are you whispering? There’s nobody here but us,” Everett muttered.
“Right,” Freddie said.
As soon as the commercial ended, they went live to the site. The reporter was talking, and Everett was riveted with every word she uttered. And then they saw the sheriff descending the courthouse steps, and he held his breath as the man began to speak.
The more the sheriff said, the better Everett felt about everything.
Kingston’s prognosis didn’t sound good, and there was no timeline on when he might be released.
They didn’t have any leads or witnesses and were asking for the public’s help.
And then the icing on the cake was hearing that the Tumbleweed Bar was closed until further notice.
“Did you hear that, Freddie? The bar is closed. Nobody is running it. It’s shut until further notice.”
“Guess we won’t be having any more beers from there then, will we?” Freddie said.
Everett turned his head and stared at his brother like he was looking at a stranger. He would like to believe Freddie was still suffering from the aftereffects of his Aya high, but the truth was, Freddie came this way, and nothing was ever going to change him. He sighed.
“You’re right. No more beers, but now we can go back and look for our inheritance without anyone bothering us. They won’t even know we’re there,” Everett said.
Freddie frowned. “I don’t want to go back, Everett. I don’t really want the money.”
“I need you to help. You’re stronger than me. And when we get it, I can take care of you real good for the rest of our lives,” Everett said.
“You take care of me just fine right now,” Freddie said.
“Yes, I do. But who’s taking care of me? We’re living off my disability and using it up before the end of the month every time.” Everett was frustrated and angry, and still felt like shit. “We’re going after that money tonight, and I don’t want to hear any more about it. Understand?”
“I understand,” Freddie said. “Are we gonna be Joe and Darren again?”
“Damn it all to hell, Freddie. No. We’re gonna be us, and we’re gonna go find a treasure. We need to make a quick trip to the hardware store. We need a shovel and a pry bar to take with us.”
Freddie made a U-turn and left the room. Everett was yelling again. Freddie was resigned. Like it or not, they were going back to the Tumbleweed.
* * *
Bill Eldredge got the call from Asher just before noon, and without a word to Jacob Kingston, headed for his vehicle on the run. He drove straight to the address he’d been given, then began looking for the white Mustang from the photo.
It didn’t take long to locate it. Next step was finding a place to park among the other vehicles that would still give him a line of sight to the car. And when he did, he sent his twin a message about the change of plans and settled in to wait.
It was just before 1:00 p.m. when Eldredge saw two men exit the building who matched the men from the photos he’d been given. Then when they got into the same car, it verified their identities.
He waited until they were on the move, then slowly moved into traffic behind them, and followed them all the way to a hardware store. He parked when they parked, then waited for them to come back.
When they came out carrying a shovel and a pry bar and put it in the trunk of the car, he took photos from his phone, then followed them back to their apartment and guessed it was going to be a long wait.
He sent a text back to Asher, along with the photos.
Somebody’s going digging for something.
Phil will be on stakeout after 6:00 p.m.
He knows the score.
* * *
The for sale sign at the Borden house was a little shocking.
Ash couldn’t begin to guess how this made her feel.
And, as he was pulling up into the driveway, the obvious absence of her car made him wonder where she might be, then let it go as he locked up the SUV and headed down the street and into the alley.
The temps were in the high thirties. Not quite freezing weather, but in a land with few windbreaks, it felt much colder.
He was walking with his hands in his coat pockets and his shoulders hunched against the cold, with all manner of scenarios tumbling through his thoughts.
He came out of the alley at the gas station, then headed toward the Tumbleweed and jogged all the way to the back door of the house.
He paused before going in to gauge the appearance of the house.
The shades were down. The curtains had been pulled shut at every window. His dad’s truck was parked on the east side of the house, out of sight for anyone coming from the west. If he hadn’t known better, he would have assumed no one was home.
Satisfied, he let himself in, locking the door behind him, and then went to his room to hang up his coat. The clip in his gun was full, and his handcuffs were on the bed, ready to grab at a moment’s notice.
The door to Dylan’s room was open, but when Asher checked, he found him asleep on his bed.
It was pure instinct that made him shake out the blanket at the foot of the bed and cover him up, just as he’d done when they were little.
The door to Gunner’s room was closed, and so he passed it by on his way to the kitchen.
He was making himself a sandwich when he got Eldredge’s text, and the moment he read it, he guessed the Brandts had seen the press conference and were preparing to make a night run back to Jacob’s bar. So far, so good.