Page 8 of Cold Case, Warm Hearts

“Absolutely. Maybe even replace both the window and the door with glass French doors to let in more light.”

“I love that idea.” They could make this place beautiful.

But…but that wasn’t why she was there.

She had to remember her purpose, and it wasn’t to create her dream home in a place she had no desire to live. Whatever she sold this house for would be gravy to her.

And how would renovating this place help her find her mother?

She forced a smile. “Those are all great ideas, but I’m not that ambitious. I just want to do what we have to do to honestly be able to call it updated. So I’m on board with paint, newappliances, new countertops and backsplash. We can have the floors refinished, replace this.” She scuffed her boot on the vinyl beneath her. “But beyond that?—”

“This place is a world of potential. Don’t you want to see what it can become?”

She shrugged. “I’m not going to live here, so I honestly don’t care that much.”

He sighed. It was clear that he wanted to say something more. Instead, he gestured back through the door. “Let’s keep going.”

After peeking into a downstairs half-bath off the kitchen, which looked like an explosion of seventies orange, they headed upstairs.

“I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised by the second floor.”

Garrett wasn’t wrong. Dad’s renter had painted the master bedroom and replaced the carpet. It was large enough for a king-sized bed and furniture. Like the ones downstairs, the windows were too small, especially considering the view. From this vantage point, she could see beyond the treetops to an expanse of white far below and a mountain rising in the distance.

“It’s gorgeous.”

Reluctantly, she moved on to the bath which, though outdated, was clean and functional.

Back in the walkway overlooking the living area, Garrett said, “With new paint and refinished floors, the bedrooms will be fine. I mean, you could replace that tiny window in the master with a bay, but…” He glanced at her, his expression one of dismay. “Anyway, up here, just the bathrooms need a lot of work.” He stopped by a door. “This one is the worst.”

Worse than what they’d found downstairs?

She pushed through and got her answer. The peach-colored tub was cracked. The vanity’s drawers were crooked. There was no mirror, just bare drywall where one should have been and,above that, an opening for a light fixture. Wires poked out of it. A tiny window high on the wall over the tub enabled them to see the space without flashlights.

“Obviously, everything needs to be replaced in here.”

He was standing behind her and, when she turned to respond, found he was very close.

He backed away. “Sorry. I was looking over your shoulder.”

“I’m glad the other bathroom is in decent shape, or living here would be very hard.”

“You got lucky there.” He showed her two empty bedrooms in decent shape. “Keep the doors to the rooms you aren’t using shut, and the other rooms will stay warmer.”

After she peeked into a linen closet, he stopped at the final door on the second floor. “This is where I put the things that were left. The house was filled with furniture and… Well, you’ll see.”

He opened the door, and she gasped at the sight. It was a bedroom, but filled with furniture, boxes, fabric. Stuff, everywhere.

“I got rid of some of it, but?—”

“Where did it all come from?”

“Most of it was left by the renter. Some of it, I think, was left by the previous owners. Everything belongs to you, so I didn’t feel right going through it or making decisions about it.”

“Why did the renter leave so much?”

Garrett’s eye contact slipped. “That’s sort of a long story. I’ll tell you later.”

An odd answer, but it didn’t matter.

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