Page 34 of Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

The house was fairly small, so he wasn’t inside long. Belinda had already headed toward the house, but I hung back several feet, still unsure I could go in at all.

“The floor’s a little soft in a few places,” he said. “All the more reason for me to walk through with you ladies.”

“Are you doing this because you hope I’ll hire your girlfriend?” I asked bluntly.

He could have gotten pissed—he had every right—but he was all patience. “I’m merely doin’ my job of keeping citizens safe. Your business with anyone in town is none of my concern, Summer included.”

Belinda shot me a dark look, and I knew I’d crossed a line, but I was scared to go inside the house, and my fear was battling my curiosity. I was actually relieved Chief Montgomery was with us, especially since he had a gun on his hip.

“You ever used that gun before?” I asked, gesturing to his holster.

“I have,” he said carefully. “When needed.”

“Can you unholster that thing in a hot second if there’s a threat?”

He offered me a reassuring smile. “There’s nothing in that house, Magnolia, but I’ll be with you every step of the way to be sure.” Then he added, “In case a raccoon or squirrels jump out of hiding.”

We both knew that wasn’t what he meant, and I could have lost my temper, but instead, I was relieved. And also grateful he was trying hard not to embarrass me.

“Is there a basement?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“No,” he said softly, as though he understood my fears. Then again, maybe he did. “No basement.”

I darted a brief look at Belinda, then steeled my spine. “Well, okay then. Let’s go inside.”

Chapter Thirteen

Magnolia

“I’ll go in first, and you and your sister-in-law can follow,” Chief Montgomery said, then added, “I can make sure the floor’s safe to walk on.”

“Okay.” We all knew he didn’t need to go in with us, and I was grateful he was trying not to make it obvious.

He headed up the three wooden steps to the front door. I followed close behind him while Belinda took up the rear. The stairs shook as I landed on the second step, and Chief Montgomery reached out a hand. I took it and let him tug me up the rest of the way into the house.

I turned around to help Belinda, but she was already at the top and followed me inside.

We stood side by side as I scanned the living room, or what was left of it. A sofa was pushed up under the window. The skirt at the bottom of the sofa looked like it had once been a forest green, but what was left of the upholstery on the top and along the arms was sun-faded to a beige. It was obvious birds and other animals had been claiming the stuffing to repurpose for their own use. Pieces of glass, from what looked like a couple of broken lamps, littered the floor close to the opposite wall. A recliner was tipped over and an old console TV cabinet sat acrossfrom the window, its screen broken. The jagged pieces looked like vicious teeth, waiting to devour me.

There were a few pictures on the wall, but one caught my attention—an 11x14-inch framed family photo of a mother, father, and two girls. I took a step toward it and a floorboard cracked under my foot.

“You stay there,” Chief Montgomery said, holding up a hand. “Let me get it.” He carefully picked his way across the creaking, sagging floor. Then he took the photo off the wall and brought it to me.

I took it, feeling embarrassed. He was the police chief, and he was acting like my personal gofer.

“You don’t have to stick around, Chief Montgomery,” I said. “You’ve already gone above and beyond for us.”

“It’s pretty slow this afternoon,” he said, “and I’m worried if I leave, I’ll have to come back and pull one of you out of a huge hole in the floor.”

He grinned, his eyes lighting up and making him look even more handsome. Pre-Colt I would have been flirting up a storm, but now flirting felt like a betrayal. Nevertheless, five minutes with Chief Montgomery was enough to tell me that he was a good man. Summer was a very lucky woman.

I turned my attention to the photo, touching the glass over the face of the oldest girl. It was clear as day she was Momma. I presumed the other girl was her sister. Both girls looked like they were in elementary school and only a few years apart.

“It’s interesting they had such an old photo on the wall,” Belinda said. “If they had a more current photo, surely they would have hung that one in the living room.”

“True,” I said, “but most people don’t get a new family photo every year or even every other year. We only had a couple.”

“We never had any,” Belinda said, reminding me that her childhood had been even less idyllic than my own.

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