Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Kate
C haucer barked, running to the front door, as a knock echoed in the cavernous house. Sure. Why not? I got up from the bathroom floor and studied my red puffy eyes, my blotchy cheeks. Awesome. I splashed cold water on my face and walked to the entry as another knock sounded.
“Chaucer, sit.” I waited until he complied before opening the door. A stocky, muscular man in jeans and a plaid flannel shirt stood on my porch, a clipboard in his hand.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Cady. My name is Mark Rutherford.” He smiled uneasily. “I’m a local contractor and part-time appraiser. Your husband hired me to determine the value of this house before you put it on the market.”
I closed my eyes and tried to control my breathing. Chaucer whimpered and leaned against me, licking my hand. My stomach dropped out. Or maybe it was my heart. Either way, a vital organ was flopping on the porch like a fish out of water.
I blew out a breath and put up a finger. “Can you give me a moment to call my lawyer?”
He nodded and stepped back. “Sure. I’ll just wait in my truck. Take your time.”
I closed the door and walked to the kitchen. I had my lawyer’s number on a notepad by the phone. My fingers shook as I dialed.
“Kate! It’s about time you checked in. Your cell was turned off, and you haven’t responded to my emails.”
I gave her Gran’s phone number. “Sorry. There’s no Wi-Fi up here?—”
“In Maine?”
I let out a breath. “No, I mean Gran’s house.”
“Well, I’m glad you called. I’m working with your husband’s lawyer to try to hammer out a settlement. They’re hardballing, pretending he’s completely broke. Now I have to get auditors and investigators working on it. Unfortunately, that means I have no money for you right now. Are you surviving?”
“Yeah. My mom loaned me some money. Listen, though. I’m calling because there’s an appraiser here. He says Justin’s putting the house on the market. Can he do that? Just sell the house?”
Jean, my lawyer, cursed. “Yes. The rat bastard can, in fact, force a sale. I can stall it until we get his financials sorted, but unless you have the money to buy him out of his share, he can force the sale.”
“Shit.”
“Precisely. Let the nice appraiser do his job. We need to know how much it’s worth anyway, so I can negotiate it as part of the distribution of assets.” She paused. “You said the house was in bad shape, right? Dirty, animal infested?”
Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck. “It was. I just paid an exterminator to clean it out, and I’ve been rewashing the walls and floors all afternoon. So it may be empty of furniture, but it actually looks pretty good right now.”
“Our timing could have been better on that one. Nothing we can do. Let him in, and we’ll see where we are. Just in case, though, try to make your peace with selling. We may not have a choice.”
I hung up with Jean and made my way back to the front door. When I opened it, the appraiser stepped out of his truck.
“Am I good to go?” he asked, pulling a pen from his pocket and attaching it to the clipboard.
I nodded, sitting on the top step. “Yep. Go on in. I’ll wait for you out here.”
Chaucer sat with me, both of us staring at the trees, whipping to and fro in the fierce wind coming off the ocean.
I shivered, but I refused to go inside and get a sweatshirt while that man was walking through Gran’s house, determining what Justin could get for it.
Justin, that sack of excrement who insulted and cheated on me for our whole marriage, was going to take this away from me, too.
Scooting closer, Chaucer broke the full force of the wind and warmed my side. I dug my fingers into his fur and hugged him tight. Yes, I know dogs don’t particularly like being hugged, but I needed it. I may have even cried. Thankfully, dogs are good at keeping secrets.
Chaucer made a soft woof, his head coming up. I took a moment to wipe my face clean before I sat up. Police cruiser. Right. I’m a shallow bit of nothing . Wouldn’t want to forget that.
Aiden stepped out and walked slowly toward us, as though afraid I would explode at any moment. I wished. I’d love to splatter the asshole with gray matter and burst organs. Try washing that out, you bastard.
“I hear you’re having a rough day.”
He actually looked concerned. Must be something they teach in the police academy, how to approach cornered and possibly vicious animals.
Me, not Chaucer. Chaucer was a sweetie, through and through.
Whereas I was a homeless, shallow bit of nothing who had just learned the truth about herself. Very dangerous.
“You’re shivering. Don’t you have a coat?”
I sat up straighter, willing my teeth not to chatter. “Is there a problem, Officer?”
He looked confused. And sexy. The bastard.
“Why are you here?” I put as much anger as I could into my voice.
I would not break down in front of him. “No more animals caught in traps. No need to keep wasting your time on nothing. Nothing to see here. Nothing at all.” My voice caught on the third nothing .
I cleared my throat and continued, “Move along.”
Sighing, he ran his hands over his face. “Katie, when I said that, the nothing thing, it was your first day back. I didn’t know you. I was angry about Alice, and I knew Pops would try to set us up.”
I laughed. It was bitter sounding, even to my own ears. “No worries there. Your grandfather thinks I’m the Antichrist. Trust me, no one wants a loved one to date the Antichrist.” I heard something in the house and turned.
“Why are you sitting out here in the freezing wind in only a T-shirt and shorts?”
I scooted closer, draping Chaucer’s warm, furry legs over my knees. “It’s refreshing out here. And last time I checked, being cold wasn’t illegal. Bye now.”
He walked back to his car. Good.
Unfortunately, he jogged back holding a big sweatshirt. “Put this on before you freeze to death.”
“Nope. I’m good. Buh-bye.” I shivered uncontrollably. Stupid Maine weather.
He walked closer and shoved the sweatshirt over my head.
I sputtered. “What the—dude, you cannot just force clothing on unsuspecting people! Go arrest yourself.” Ah, warmth. I pulled the sweatshirt down over my bent knees. My entire body folded within the sweatshirt. “But before you fingerprint yourself, could you pull up the hoodie?”
Brushing stray curls from my face, he pulled the hood forward. Warm, calloused fingers brushed my jaw and tipped up my chin. “I’m sorry.” He paused. “About a lot of things, actually.” Scooting me over, he sat on my other side, adding another heat source and wind break.
He nudged my shoulder. “Thanks for keeping the secret.” Tipping his head toward the front door, he continued, “About the open windows and the animals.”
I nodded, shifting away from him, leaning into Chaucer.
“Why did you?”
“I promised you, didn’t I?”
He leaned forward, his arms braced against his knees, and sighed. “Yes, you did.” He stood abruptly, cursing. “I’ve got to go do something,” he said as he strode back to his cruiser.
“What about your sweatshirt?” I didn’t want to give it up, but he already thought I was a cruel, shallow bit of nothing. I didn’t need him to add thief to his assessment.
He waved away my question and drove off.
Score! New sweatshirt for me.
The front door opened, and the Mark guy came out. “Ma’am, I have a preliminary number for you and your husband?—”
“Ex.”
“Right. If you could give me a day or so, though, I can give you the most accurate number. I need to check recent sales in this area.”
I stood. “Take your time. The longer, the better.” The sweatshirt fell to my knees. “Actually, can you give me the ballpark number now?”
He looked over his notes. “I’d say at least a million and a half. I’ll check sales on comparables and get back to you.” He tipped his head and jogged off to his truck.
A million and a half? I couldn’t afford groceries. How was I supposed to come up with half of that? I couldn’t breathe.
I was going to lose Gran’s house.