Page 18 of Cold Case, Warm Hearts

She scanned the kitchen. “Nope. Thanks to you, I’m good for now.”

“If you think of anything, don’t hesitate to call. Otherwise, I’ll get back to you when I have those plans drawn up. Probably tomorrow morning.”

She walked them to the door, they said their goodbyes, and Garrett reluctantly followed his friends out.

In the driveway, Garrett said, “Thanks for your help. Now she’ll be able to stay here instead of the hotel.”

“It’s nice to get out of the house.” Reid glanced at his watch. “But I need to get back to town. It’s almost time to pick up Ella from dance.”

As Reid opened the door of his SUV, Thomas glanced at the house. “So you two, uh…?”

“We just met.” Garrett hoped his words sounded casual, even if he felt something completely different.

Thomas turned to him. “I get it, man. I’ll keep my distance.”

“What? I didn’t say?—”

“Your feelings are so obvious, they might as well be tattooed on your face.”

“I have nofeelingsfor her.” None that made sense, anyway. “And besides, she’s only staying temporarily.”

Thomas glanced at Reid, who tapped his watch. “So was Jacqui. Oh, and Carly.” Thomas referred to Reid’s and Braden’s wives. “And even Grace?—”

“You’d better go,” Garrett said. “Reid’ll kill you if he’s late picking up his daughter.”

Thomas chuckled. “Just saying…” He rounded Reid’s car and climbed in.

When Garrett was alone in the driveway, he glanced at Aspen’s front door. She’d be fine by herself. She had food, she had heat. Still, as he walked to his pickup, thinking of the looks from the customers—and Bart Bradley’s comments at lunch—he lifted a prayer for her safety and protection.

CHAPTER SIX

It was dark by the time Garrett turned down the long tree-lined driveway to his aunt and uncle’s house, the place where Garrett lived from when he was fourteen through college. His uncle had texted while Garrett was at Aspen’s, but he hadn’t gotten the notification until he was a few miles down the mountain.

Aspen didn’t have cell phone service at the house. He’d forgotten that. That was a problem that needed to be solved soon.

Garrett’s uncle had asked him to stop by on his way home. Even though Garrett had bought a condo years back, when he thought of home, he thought of this little split-level in the woods.

As he parked his truck, Aunt Deborah pushed open the front door. She was still dressed for work in slacks, a purple blouse, and a black jacket. She’d put on weight over the years and was constantly talking about going on a diet. Not doing it, but talking about it. As far as he was concerned, she didn’t need to. She was as healthy and pretty as ever. She dyed her hair a tad lighter every year, and now what used to be dark brown was fully blond. She looked younger than her fifty-something age.

He’d just reached the walk when she said, “Hurry up before you let all the cold air in.”

He bounded up the concrete steps to the door, stepped inside, and kissed her cheek. “You could just leave the door shut until I get here.”

She squeezed his cold fingers. “Too eager to see you, kid.”

Thirty-five years old, and she still called him kid.

From the top of the half flight of stairs, Uncle Dean said, “What do you want to drink with dinner?”

“You don’t need to feed me.” But Garrett picked up the scents of ground beef and onions. “On the other hand…Salisbury steak?”

“With mashed potatoes and gravy.” Uncle Dean was the cook in the family, always had been. Aunt Deborah rarely got out of work before six, while Dean was a carpenter and worked from home. The bottom floor had been his workshop as long as Garrett could remember.

“You know that’s my favorite,” Garrett said.

Uncle Dean’s smile softened the hard lines of his face. Unlike his wife, he wasn’t wearing his work clothes. He ended most days covered in sawdust and sweat, so his first task after he closed up shop was to shower. Now he wore a pair of gray jogging pants and a black sweatshirt. He’d lost much of his hair and what was left was starting to turn gray. He peered through his wire-rimmed bifocals. “If I remember correctly, anything with beef is your favorite.”

“Good point.” Garrett gestured for Aunt Deborah to precede him, then followed her up the six steps to the main floor. There used to be three small rooms at the top of the stairs—living, dining, and kitchen. But years before, Dean and Garrett had remodeled it, making it one great room. They’d even removed the low ceiling and covered the rafters above with drywall tocreate a vaulted ceiling. The skylight was Garrett’s favorite part of the new space.

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