Page 35 of Cold Case, Warm Hearts

Exactly what Uncle Dean had said.

“All my life, I’ve believed she was gone. But right before he died…he was having trouble breathing, and he didn’t have enough time to say everything he wanted to say before they puthim on the vent. He said he wanted me to find her and do right by her. Whatever that means.”

“And you think she’s here, in Coventry?”

A moment or two passed before Aspen spoke, but she didn’t answer his question. “Dad was always frugal.”

How that was related, Garrett had no idea. “You get that from him, I guess.” He looked at her and caught her smile before returning his attention to the road.

“Even though, by the time he died, he owned five restaurants that were all doing really well, he and I always lived in apartments. We had everything we needed, don’t get me wrong. When I started managing the Kona restaurant, I saw how much money he was making in profit. It was significant. And the other restaurants did just as well. But I never questioned how we lived. I figured there were expenses I didn’t know about, maybe debt or something. And then I found out about the house here. Which he owns… owned outright.”

“But he didn’t own it for long,” Garrett said. “Didn’t he buy it a couple of years ago?”

She turned his way. “How did you?—?”

“When it came on the market, I tried to buy it. I thought it would make a good house to fix up and sell for profit. But your dad got it first. I mean, he bought it under the name of his company, so I didn’t know it was your dad. Not that I would have recognized his name.”

“So you’ve been thinking about redoing that place for a long time.”

He lifted a shoulder and let it drop. “I hadn’t seen the inside until Christiansen talked to me about working for you. Did your dad tell you why he bought it?”

“Nope.”

“Do you think it has something to do with your mother’s whereabouts?”

“It must, right? Why else would he buy a house in New Hampshire? In fact, a part of me…” Her voice trailed.

He waited a few beats before prompting her. “Part of you…?”

“I sort of hoped I’d get to the house and she’d be there. My mom. Cooking dinner or something. In my head, I knew that wasn’t going to happen. All my life, even though I knew she was dead, because there’s no proof, deep down, I guess I hoped… It’s stupid.”

He recalled Aspen’s reaction to the house when she first arrived. He’d thought her overwhelmed by how much work it would take to make it decent. Turned out, she’d been dealing with so much more.

Before he realized what he was doing, he reached across the console and laid his palm over her hand resting on her knee. “I’m sorry.” He squeezed and then brought his own back to the steering wheel. He shouldn’t have done that.

She said nothing for a long moment.

And then, as if nothing strange had happened, she continued. “I’m thinking maybe there’s something in that extra bedroom that’ll give me a clue about where she is.”

He’d seen everything in that room. “I don’t think so. The stuff from the attic is older. The rest of it is pretty new.”

“I’ll look through it anyway. I have to start somewhere.”

True, though he dreaded the disappointment when she discovered nothing helpful.

A few minutes later, he turned onto the mountain road that led back to her place.

“Would I be insane to go with your design for the house?” she asked. “Wouldn’t a wise person just do the bare bones and sell it?”

“Just the opposite. If you do that, you’re going to have to sell it for cheap. It’s a really nice house with a lot of potential. Why wouldn’t you want to profit on that?”

“What if the market shifts?”

“What if it does? It’s not going to be worth lessthan what you put into it. The economy would have to completely collapse for you to lose money. Even during the real estate downturn a decade ago, our housing prices held steady. There’s no bubble up here.”

“But it’s a risk.”

“A slight risk.” He needed to stop trying to convince her. It wasn’t his place to tell her what to do, and he had a vested interest in her choosing his design. “You should do what makes you comfortable.”

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