Page 26 of Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

Now Ireallywanted to help her.

I printed off the contract, then glanced at the clock. It was close to eleven, but it gave me enough time to run out to the farm. I needed to check in on Buddy and see if he had an expected date for the final walk-through of my house, but I had another purpose in mind. I needed more basic information about Lila Steele, which meant I needed to talk to someone who would have answers—but also be able to keep it to themselves.

The answer was literally at my front door.

Meemaw.

Chapter Ten

There was a lot of activity when I pulled up to the overseer’s house. After parking my car next to a beat-up and rusted, red pickup truck, I got out and smiled. The house had been a one-bedroom, one-bath run-down shack that had undergone multiple renovations and additions during its century-long existence…none of them good. It had practically been a gut job with the addition of another bedroom and bathroom so Dixie could move in with me, although I was beginning to wonder if that was going to happen, since she was spending more and more time in Atlanta with Bill.

But now the house was painted in a bright white with black shutters and a robin’s-egg blue front door. A porch ran along the entire length of the front of the house, wide enough to set out rocking chairs. Luke had measured multiple times and had even carted one from his front porch to ensure Buddy had given me plenty of room.

The front door and windows were all open, and the sound of hammering and a saw drowned out the voices inside. I walked through the front door, pleased when I saw one of the workers installing baseboard over the re-stained wood floor. The walls were painted a robin’s-egg blue several shades lighter than thefront door, and a wall had been removed to open the living room to the kitchen, which now sported white cabinets, stainless steel appliances, light gray quartz counters, and farmhouse-style pendant lights over the island. New, bigger windows had been installed in the living room and the kitchen, letting lots of light into the space.

I couldn’t wait to move in.

Since I’d sold all of my furniture in LA, I’d ordered new living room furniture, barstools for the island, and a small kitchen table and chairs for the small breakfast nook. The back door off the kitchen was open and I could see a contractor cutting subway tiles for the backsplash.

“Summer,” I heard a man call out from the new bathroom. “My favorite client!”

More like the only one dangling the TV appearance as a bribe, but I’d take it.

“Hey, Buddy,” I called out as I stepped over extension cords and a ladder lying on the floor, and made my way to him. “I see progress.”

“I think we’re gonna meet that deadline.” He stood straighter and sucked in his gut. “I’ve lost three pounds.”

“That’s great,” I said, glancing into the bathroom. A guy was standing in the shower slathering grout over the marble tiles, while Buddy was installing a towel rack. “The kitchen looks good.”

“It’s gonna be done, just like I promised. You can move in next Friday.” He held up his hand. “God as my witness.”

“You’re the best, Buddy. My bedroom furniture is supposed to be delivered that day.”

He turned back to drilling a bracket into the wall. “I told you I’d have it done, and I’m a man of my word.”

I did a quick walk-through of the rest of the house, pleased with the progress. I’d be lying if I denied that I was eager to rub it in Luke’s nose and tell him he was wrong.

After I drove back up to the house, I found Meemaw in the kitchen, kneading bread dough.

“What are you doin’ home?” she asked, glancing over at me as I entered through the back door.

“I was out checking on the house.”

She frowned. “Still makin’ a commotion.”

“They’ll be done next week. Then it’ll be quiet again.”

“Why are you so dangnab eager to get out of this house?” she asked with a sideways glance.

I pushed out a sigh and poured myself a cup of coffee, realizing I’d never gotten my latte at the coffee shop. I was feeling seriously caffeine deprived.

“It’s not that, Meemaw. It’s that I’m a grown woman who is used to living on my own. I just need some space. I’ll still be around. Plenty. No one cooks like you.” I held up my coffee cup. “And no one makes coffee like you.”

“You only like it because it’s free,” she grumped.

“That and it comes with your charming personality.”

She was quick to glower at me as she seemed to slap the dough harder than before, but the corners of her mouth tipped up slightly.

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