10
Heather Webber
As I walked out of the conference room, I heard scrambling from next door. I couldn’t help but smile. At least I wasn’t the only nosy one in the office.
“Lindsey,” I said, holding out my hand to the tall winsome woman who’d just come in.
“Hi, Nina. Ready for me?” she asked as we shook.
I nodded as I led her into my office. Lindsey Lockhart.
Leah’s sister.
Leah Quinn. Who happened to be Riley’s mother. My soon-to-be-ex-husband Kevin’s first wife.
The one who mysteriously died.
The one I knew nothing about.
Yet.
Two
I set the design board for the Lockharts’ yard on an easel and sat in my swivel chair. “We just had our fi- nalization meeting. Everything’s on track.”
“That’s great,” she said, her light eyes wide and bright as she stared at the board. “Everything looks just beautiful. I love those colors. The blues and whites are so soothing.”
She had long brown hair, blonde highlights, and Riley’s widow’s peak. I wondered if her sister had had it too.
Leah Quinn had died long before I met Kevin, and in the eight years I’d been married to him, I’d never seen a single picture of the woman.
Riley must have her eyes. Kevin’s were a dark green and Riley’s were midnight blue.
“Thanks again for doing this, Nina. I know the yard is a mess.”
An understatement if I’d ever heard one. The Lockhart yard . . .
I shuddered.
It was going to take a solid half day to excavate, even with Ignacio’s crew’s help. I made a mental note to confirm with Dexter Trucking that the extra dump trucks I hired would be at the site on time.
12
Heather Webber
“When we—I mean I . . . When
The “we” included Bill Lockhart, Lindsey’s husband, who was the surprisee of this makeover.
“I’m always game for a challenge,” I said. “Plus, we’re practically family.” When Riley had come to me, telling me that his aunt was interested in a makeover, I’d been fairly giddy. Finally, someone who knew the whole story about Leah’s death.
When I saw the yard for the first time three weeks ago, I’d nearly backed out. My nosiness wasn’t worth the trouble it was going to take to get the Lockhart job done in one day.
Then I’d thought of Riley. Of how happy he’d been lately.
And I couldn’t say no.
“How’s Riley doing?” she asked.
“Pretty good. He really likes his job. Thanks for setting that up. He couldn’t wait to get away from bagging groceries.”
Lindsey laughed. “I don’t know if flipping tofu burgers is a big step up, but Bill loves having him around.”
Lindsey’s husband Bill was the co-owner of Growl, a fast food restaurant featuring healthy alternatives. Riley had ap-plied for a job there after one particularly horrifying afternoon at his old job as a grocery bagger when he’d been forced to triple bag someone’s order; hit a car with a cart while on lot duty; and had his sneakers soaked in egg yolk when a plastic bag tore open, dumping out a carton of eggs. He’d quit that afternoon. It probably didn’t help that he and his girlfriend Katie had broken up the night before.
He was still pouting over that, but it had been a month since he’d started his new job, and I hadn’t heard a single com-plaint. Well, that wasn’t true. Bill’s business partner was apparently a micromanager, but after Riley learned that his uncle
13
Bill was in charge of the restaurant Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturday nights, he’d changed his schedule.
All had been peaceful in my household lately.
Which was somewhat disturbing.
My house was rarely peaceful.
Not with having a fifteen-year-old living with me. Plus, my divorce from Kevin was in its final stages. Oh, and let’s not forget my dysfunctional family. Between Ana, my sister Maria, and my parents . . .
