Heron's Landing

“Great minds.” She flashed him a smile that was like a ray of sun shining from the quilted gray sky and momentarily warmed some cold, dark place inside him.

“You sure you don’t want to come back another day? When it’s drier?”

“The roof’s new, right?” She glanced up at the randomly placed multicolored tiles in shades of blue and gray.

“It is. And not the fake stuff, but real slate formed by hand right here on the peninsula in Port Angeles. It’ll last another hundred years.”

“Then it won’t leak on us.”

“Not even during a downpour.” Which this wasn’t.

“So there’s nothing stopping us from going in.”

“It’s a mess.”

“I heard.”

“And you’re not exactly dressed for climbing over boards and nails.” He looked down at the flats.

“Good point.” She glanced over at the car. “Hold on a minute.”

As he watched, she ran over to the convertible, Bandit right on her heels, popped the trunk, opened a suitcase and pulled out a pair of yellow Keds with perky white daisies printed on the canvas. She sat down on the edge of the trunk and changed. The Keds weren’t proper boots, but if she was careful and he could keep her from climbing any leftover scaffolding, they’d work.

“Ready,” she said. Since she hadn’t pulled out any rain gear, he guessed she hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d said that she didn’t own any.

The snazzy car, along with the flowery blouse, which looked to be real silk and not the polyester Zoe had always bought at Target, suggested that she’d been well paid. But as two other owners in the last decade had proven, renovating a house like Herons Landing was neither easy nor inexpensive. And it also took time. He wondered if she ought to try staying in Honeymoon Harbor for a while before buying, just to be certain she found the town to be a good fit after all these years away.

“I’ve been homesick for a while,” she said when he carefully brought the subject up. “The idea had been simmering beneath the surface for some time, but I was too busy and distracted by work to recognize it. The minute I saw it was for sale, I felt the tug to come home.”

It was his turn to shrug. Hell, it was her problem, and her money. If it was what she really wanted to do, he’d make it happen. Not just because he was the best guy in Washington to pull the job off, but, other than himself, Brianna Mannion had been Zoe’s best friend. He owed it to her.

“Some folks around here still claim it’s haunted,” he said, taking her arm as he led her up the steps to the front door.

“Some folks also claim Bigfoot’s out there roaming around in the woods,” Brianna countered. “And if you believe the supermarket tabloids, actual sparkly vampires exist in Forks.”

“True. But a couple who bought it three years ago believed the stories enough to hire a Ghostbuster.”

She looked up at him. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope. Not to get rid of her, but to connect on some ethereal plane. They wanted a self-proclaimed paranormal investigator to make sure she didn’t mind them living in her space.”

“I guess she told them that she did mind? Since they didn’t finish the project?”

“I’ve no idea since I didn’t ask and they didn’t tell.”

“I never really believed in her,” Brianna said. “Or, more, I never saw any proof. But I never disbelieved, either.”

“Whichever, they were arrested for running a Ponzi scheme disguised as a hedge fund and the property was seized by the government.” Leaving his bank account to take a huge hit when he’d been forced to pay for the materials and subcontractors out of his own pocket.

“Last summer it was bought at auction by a couple of doctors from the Bay Area who got tired of the San Francisco rat race and decided it would be fun to run a bed-and-breakfast. We’d barely started working on the interior when the docs realized what living in a construction zone would feel like. As their costs escalated, they got a divorce and bailed on the deal by declaring bankruptcy. We’re far enough down the debtor’s list, I doubt we’ll ever see a dime.”

“It sounds as if this place has turned into a money pit for you.”

“Enough that Dad decided the house may not be haunted, but it’s definitely cursed.”

Having to listen to his father’s nonstop bitching about Seth letting them get shafted, not once, but twice, had been the worst part of the deals. He’d have to remember to be outside when he told his old man about their new client. Because Ben Harper was flat-out going to hit the roof.

He wondered how much he should tell her about his parent’s separation, then decided, what the hell. Since she’d undoubtedly hear about his family’s domestic drama soon enough, he might as well let her know right off the bat.

“There is one thing that might cause a problem, so if you’re going to be around the house during work hours—”

“That would be my plan.”

“Then you need to know that my parents are currently separated.”

“Oh.” She tilted her head. “I’m sorry. That must be difficult for you. Being in the middle.”

“It’s not a walk in the park. But the reason I’m telling you up front is that it might concern you, too.”

“Really? Why?”

“Because my mom’s dating again.”

“I guess that’s a good thing? For her, anyway.”

“It seems to be. But here’s what could be a problem...the guy she’s seeing is your uncle.”

“Uncle Mike?”

“Yeah. I don’t know how serious things have gotten between them, but I had dinner with them at Leaf—which is this new vegetarian place that’s opened up since the last time you were here—”

“I saw the building. Near the park. Did you do the work?”

“Yeah. They hired a designer for the interior decorator stuff, but I drew up the plans and did the construction part of the job.”

“You’re awfully modest for a man who won an award for environmental historical renovation and remodeling.”

“Sounds like you really checked out the town’s website.”

“As I said, I’ve been homesick. I saw your award. That’s impressive.”

He shrugged. “There’s a lot happening in the historical environmental field right now,” he said, shaking off the cloud that had returned to hang over them. “I enjoy attending seminars on the various views and options.”

Not wanting her to think he was blowing his own horn, something his dad had taught him at an early age Harpers didn’t do, he didn’t tell her that he’d given a lot of those seminars himself. Just like they weren’t that generous with compliments, Harper men weren’t that good with accepting them. Another possible reason his mother seemed so attracted to Mike Mannion, who appeared to hand them out like penny candy.

Once again, Seth was forced to consider the idea that his parents’ separation could well become permanent. Then, once again, he reminded himself that they were adults and their relationship, whatever the hell it was or wasn’t these days, was none of his business.

“Anyway, getting back to Dad, he might not be all that cooperative.”