Chapter 16 #2
She went inside and put on her shoes. On the way out, she picked up her keys from the small desk by the door.
There were three on the ring now. The rental car. The bungalow she was paying for by the month. And the small brass key from Ocean National Bank on Brickell Avenue that Edmund had closed into her hand in the parking garage and refused to take back.
Emma ran her thumb over the brass key.
She almost called Jake.
She got as far as his name on the screen before putting the phone back in her bag.
Leah’s words from the night before had stayed with her. If there was someone in Key West she planned to come back to, she needed to make sure he knew it.
Emma still didn’t know what she was doing with Jake, but she knew one thing she hadn’t been willing to admit even to herself a few days earlier.
She wanted to see him.
That was exactly why she didn’t call.
Instead, she walked into town and had a grouper sandwich at a counter where nobody knew who she was.
Jake was setting the third pergola post at three-thirty when he heard a car coming down Hibiscus Lane.
He knew most of the sounds on the street by now including Emma’s rental car, the mail truck, the neighbor’s old Ford.
This was none of them.
A navy sedan stopped at the gate and idled for several seconds before the engine shut off.
Jake set down the drill and walked around the side of the cottage.
The man who got out was in his sixties, wearing a wrinkled polo, khaki shorts and boat shoes. Jake recognized him before he reached the gate.
Arthur Kendrick.
He looked smaller than Jake remembered.
Arthur came toward the gate with his hand out.
“Jake. Buddy. It’s been a while.”
Jake stopped several feet inside the fence and left his hands at his sides.
“Arthur.”
“Look, I know you’ve heard some things. My niece has been down here stirring up trouble, and there’s been a real misunderstanding. I was hoping I could come in and take a look at the place. It’s been years.”
“No.”
Arthur lowered his hand.
“I own this cottage.”
“You don’t.”
“I’m the personal representative of my mother’s estate, and that cottage is an asset of it.”
“There’s a court filing that says otherwise.”
Arthur’s mouth tightened.
“So let me in.”
“No.”
He put one hand on top of the gate but didn’t open it.
“Jake, come on. I’ve been your landlord for three years. You signed the lease with me.”
“I signed a lease with you because you told me you had the right to rent this house. Now I know you didn’t.”
“That’s not accurate.”
“Then let your attorney explain it to Rachel Alden.”
“I don’t want to talk to Rachel. I want to talk to you.”
“I don’t have anything to say.”
“You’ve been paying me every month for three years. That’s a relationship.”
Jake stepped close to him. “You collected rent on your mother’s house without telling her. I don’t know what you call that, but I’m not calling it a relationship.”
The easy expression left Arthur’s face.
Jake had seen that happen before. A person stayed reasonable as long as being reasonable got him what he wanted. When it stopped working, something else came through.
“Listen to me,” Arthur said. “You are standing on property that belongs to me. I’m going to open this gate, and you’re going to step aside.”
He pushed it open.
Jake stepped into the space between them.
He didn’t raise his voice or touch Arthur. He didn’t need to.
Arthur stopped.
“You’re not coming through this gate,” Jake said.
“Are you threatening me?”
“No. I’m telling you not to come onto the property. I think we both know what could happen to you if you insist on coming onto this property.”
Arthur didn’t move.
“There’s a hearing next week,” Jake continued. “The original will has been filed with the court. If you think this cottage belongs to you, that’s where you make your argument.”
Arthur stared at him. “You don’t know what’s riding on this.”
The words came out quickly, and something in Arthur’s expression changed as soon as he heard himself say them.
Jake noticed.
“No,” he said. “I don’t.”
Arthur’s jaw tightened.
“You’re the tenant.”
“I’m also the person who paid you rent for three years, and if Rachel asks me to testify about that, I will.”
“You think anybody cares what you have to say?”
“I guess we’ll find out.”
Arthur held the gate another moment before letting it swing closed.
“You’ll hear from my attorney.”
“That’s fine. Have him call Rachel.”
Arthur stepped back, but he wasn’t finished.
“You’re a nobody.”
Jake looked at him.
“Maybe, but one of us has a right to be here, and it isn’t you.”
Arthur turned, got into the sedan and slammed the door. The engine caught on the second try, and he quickly backed away from the cottage leaving tire marks that dug into the shell-lined path.
Jake stayed at the gate until the car disappeared. Only then did he realize how tight his shoulders were.
He rolled them once, took out his phone and called Rachel’s office first.
Because that was the order Emma and Rachel had left him.
Then he called Emma.
“Jake.”
“Arthur was just here.”
Emma went still.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. He tried to come through the gate. I wouldn’t let him. He’s gone.”
“Did he touch you?”
“No.”
“Did you touch him?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“I called Rachel’s office before I called you. I’m writing down everything he said while it’s fresh.”
“That’s exactly right. Thank you.”
“There’s something else. He said something I don’t think he meant to say.”
“What?”
“He told me I didn’t know what was riding on this.”
“Riding on it?”
“That’s what he said.”
Emma looked toward the street.
“I’m calling Rachel.”
“Do that.”
She hesitated.
“Jake?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you for not letting him in.”
“You don’t have to thank me. What’s right is right.”
“I’ll be in touch.”
She called Rachel next.