20. Hannah

Chapter 20

Hannah

A fter breakfast, he went to Shriek & Nail to pick up the security system that should’ve arrived and give them measurements for the windows.

I showered and dressed, and while Reylor installed the cameras outside, networking them to the recording system he placed in the rat closet, I met with the insurance guy. He looked the place over and suggested I get some estimates for the repair and send them to him within a few days. Then the insurance company would send me a check.

I was standing on the porch, watching as the adjuster got into his car and drove away when someone parked in my driveway.

Grant Murray got out and rounded his car at a furious pace. About forty, he had dark hair with silver speckling his long sideburns that merged with his very dark, close-cropped beard. He opened his passenger door and grabbed a briefcase before striding up my walk with an eighty-watt smile on his face.

I took in his dark suit, the white shirt that contrasted nicely with his green tie, plus his shiny black shoes and internally groaned. If only I could hide behind one of the bushes flanking the front steps.

Since Reylor had moved to the back of the building to finish installing cameras, I couldn’t slink behind him, either.

“There you are,” Grant said, flashing me another smile that didn’t reach his dark eyes.

I crossed my arms on my chest. “Yup, here I am.”

His gaze traveled past me to the boarded-up windows, and a frown scrunched his face. “What happened?”

“An explosion.”

His eyes widened. “My goodness. How devastating. Bad paint? Oil in your basement?”

“I was experimenting with chemicals. You know how it is. I mixed the wrong things together and poof. Things were flung about everywhere, and they destroyed my windows.”

“No,” he breathed. His swallow took a long time edging its way down his throat. “I’m terribly sorry. I do hope you do research before you experiment again.”

I wasn’t sure why I was making all this up. The rumor mill would chew through this within an hour and spit it out the other side. Before I knew it, the locals would find a reason to either stop by to quiz me or stroll on the sidewalk to check out the damage.

I didn’t need that.

“I’m teasing.” It was no fun if he believed me. Did he really think I’d mix chemicals and blow out a bunch of windows? “Someone did it yesterday.”

“Oh, my. Who?”

“If I knew, they’d be in jail.”

“Yes, yes.” He tapped his chin and frowned at the window to the left of the entrance.

“What can I do for you, Grant?”

He stiffened his spine and straightened his suit before marching up the stairs, striding past me, and walking over to settle in one of my porch chairs. “If you could spare me a few moments of your time.”

“As you can see, I’m kind of busy.”

His gaze strayed to the boarded-up window beside him. “Have you notified Detective Carter?”

“Of course.”

“And . . .”

“He’s still analyzing clues.” I hoped. Assuming there were any clues.

Grant frowned at the newly installed cameras. “You must’ve caught some evidence on those.”

“They were installed this morning, so no, I don’t know who did it yet.”

“How frightening for you.” His voice quavered. “You’re fortunate you weren’t here.”

I settled in the chair opposite his. “How do you know I wasn’t here?”

His grip tightened on the handle of the briefcase lying across his lap. “It’s only an assumption on my part.”

“Where were you yesterday?”

He blinked a moment. “In the office.”

“And Estadore can confirm this if I call him?” I didn’t think Grant had destroyed the windows, but I wasn’t crossing him off the list of suspects.

“I’m sure he can.” He unlatched his briefcase and opened it, pulling out papers he handed to me. “Sign at the bottom, and I’ll be on my way.”

I scanned the document. “This is an offer on my building.”

“A generous one, I’ll point out.” His smile came out greasy. “Investors are waiting to demolish this sorry building and put up gleaming condos in its place. I might even be able to get you a ten percent discount on one of the units.” His smile widened, still dripping with grease. “If you ask nicely.”

“I don’t do nice.” Not with him anyway.

His smile fell faster than it rose. “Alright. No discount.”

“I’m not signing.” I tore the document in half. “I told you no the first time you stopped by not long after I moved in. I told you no a week later when you tried to pin me against the back of my car in my very own driveway to tell me you were increasing your offer. This is the third no, and the last.” I rose and flung the papers at him. They fluttered around him, falling onto the porch floor. “No means no every single time I say it. Don’t come back here again.”

I stomped toward the door and grabbed onto the knob while Grant scrambled to his feet.

“You’ll come begging one of these days,” he snarled, Briefcase in hand, he slammed down the front steps and onto the walkway, turning to send me a glare. “And then, missy, it’ll be too late.”

My hands shaking from fury, I went inside and locked the door, hurrying to the front parlor, where I watched through the tiny gap in the plywood as he got into his car and squealed the vehicle down the driveway and out onto the road.

Once he was gone, I rushed out back and filled Reylor in on the conversation.

His growl ripped out, and he leaped off the ladder. “He’s about to learn never to threaten my mate.”

My heart flipped over at his declaration, but I was perfectly capable of taking care of this myself. “I handled it.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to punch him.”

“I’m glad you weren’t. He’d press for assault charges.”

He rubbed his fist. “Only if he could prove I’d done it.”

“Don’t beat anyone up for me. The next time he comes here and tries to get me to sign, I’ll be the one punching.” Sadly, I suspected this wouldn’t be the last time I saw Grant Murray.

I went inside and installed a faucet in one of the second-floor bathrooms. Making progress on my building restored my good mood, so when I was finished, I went to my office to make phone calls.

Reylor finished with the security system and sat in the front parlor, where he continued researching our potential villains.

Shriek & Nail called and the woman said they’d be over tomorrow to do some more measurements and give me estimates. Ending the call, I slumped on the front porch. I was still stunned by what happened. It was clear someone was trying to sabotage my renovation, because everything they did slowed me down or took my progress backward.

Why did it matter that much to them? With only eight rooms to rent, I wasn’t going to give the area’s hotel businesses much competition. And Victor specifically told me he rarely had a vacancy. If anything, we could refer the overflow guests to the hotel chains.

Reylor joined me on the front porch later in the afternoon, and we went through what he’d discovered. He’d only scrolled into his phone to start sharing when Sylvia strode up the driveway and joined us, sinking into a wicker chair. She dimpled a smile both my and Reylor’s way.

“You’re just the person I was hoping to see,” Reylor said.

“Oh?” Sylvia smoothed her pink and white checkered grannie gown across her knees and demurely crossing her leather, button-up boot encased ankles. “What can I do for you?” Her voice fluttered along with her hands on the ties to her bonnet.

“Does Hannah know that you and Justin Blakemore were once married?” he asked.

My eyes widened as I gaped at her. “You were?”

“And that you both lived here for the ten years you were together?” he added.

“That’s old news.” Sylvia’s spine stiffened, and her eyes darted around wildly. “Everyone in town knows we were married and divorced a long time ago.”

“You divorced two years before he died, actually.” Reylor looked down at the notes he’d taken on his phone. “It wasn’t an amicable split. In the proceedings, you accused him of having an affair.”

“Which he did,” she said primly.

“Of trying to hurt you.”

“He had a rough touch.”

“And you asked for this building and all the possessions in the divorce,” he finished.

“Because most of them were mine,” she ground out, her face flushing with anger. “He was the one who cheated. I should’ve named his floozy in the divorce, but no, I was trying to be kind to a friend, so I kept my mouth shut.”

“Who was it?” I asked.

“It hardly matters. She died within a year of Justin, dramatically following him to the grave. But I made sure she wasn’t buried in the same cemetery. How dare her family try to do something like that?”

I wasn’t sure why that would matter. “You weren’t given the building in the divorce,” I pointed out.

“It had been in his family for generations, and he fought me on that.” She slumped back in her chair. “He kept it all, and I got money instead. Like money matters? He has some amazing antiques, and I adored them. He knew I wanted them. He should’ve left them to me when he died.”

If she felt that proprietary about them, maybe I should let her go through the attic. As long as I wasn’t excited about a piece, she could have it. Her friendship meant more to me than a few dusty old things that had been locked up inside the house for six years.

Once I organized the window repair, I’d set up a time where she could come over. That might make her feel better about all this.

“Frankly, I’m a bit insulted by what you’re implying with this questioning,” Sylvia burst to her feet and hurried down the front stairs.

“Wait,” I called out, standing, ready to go after her.

She flicked her hand our way and broke into a half-run once she hit the sidewalk. She was soon lost from view.

“Well,” Reylor said with a wince. “Sorry. I should’ve been more delicate in my questioning, but—”

“What’s her motive?” I retook my seat.

“She wants the building. If you were determined to sell, she could make a low-ball offer, and you might accept it.”

“Why would she want it? She has a cute place above her antique shop. I’ve been inside and it’s roomy, sunny, and she’s decorated it with her favorite old west theme stuff.” I should’ve asked her why she’d wanted the building while she was here. I’d give her a few days to cool off then go see her and make my offer about the things in the attic. No wonder she kept asking to take a peek. There must be precious things up there or pieces of furniture that had sentimental value to her. I had no need to fight her over something like that.

“Maybe she plans to demolish the building and turn it into condos herself,” he said.

“I can’t imagine her business does well enough to make me much of an offer, and she’s never come across as someone who’d like to get into development.”

“She said she got money in the divorce. If she invested it well, she could’ve grown it over the past eight years.”

“This seems rather farfetched for a motive, but we’ll keep her on the list. Did you discover anything else?”

He studied his phone. “Only that Grant Murray was trying to get Justin to sell the building to him before he died. The information I discovered suggests they’d even made a verbal agreement. That, of course, wouldn’t hold up with his daughter after he died.”

“Maybe he signed something. I can look through the library.” I shared how Justin used it as an office.

“Has Grant tried to get inside the house to look for something like that himself?” Reylor asked, settling back in his chair and stretching out his long legs.

I admired his lightly haired legs and the muscles rippling beneath his skin and tried not to swoon.

“Hannah?” he asked with a sultry smile.

I dragged my mind back to the topic. “Not legally. And while there’s evidence someone is entering my building to vandalize it and play odd tricks with my lights and plumbing, I’ve found no evidence anyone has searched the library. I sit there a lot, and I use the desk. If someone searched, I would’ve noticed.”

“I haven’t learned anything else.” He turned off his phone and laid it on the table between us. “Would you like to get ready for our first flight? The exhibit opens at four. We can take a tour and then get something to eat at Kraken’s Keep.”

I hadn’t eaten there yet, though I’d looked at the menu online. Their prices were a bit beyond what I was comfortable paying for even a wonderful meal. “That would be nice. I don’t mind Monstrous Munchies, either. It’s not quite so . . . fancy.” Expensive, that is.

“I took a chance and made a reservation at Kraken’s. We can sit on the deck and look at the sea.” His delicious smile flashed. “Or stare into each other’s eyes.”

My chuckle burst out, and I loved that his light tease eased my tension. “Alright. Kraken’s Keep it is. Be prepared for some staring.”

“Already ready, sweetheart,” he rasped. “More than ready.”

I stood and looked down at my scuffed shorts and t-shirt. “I need to change. What does someone wear while flying?”

“Me? Nothing.”

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t think you’re going to turn me on by showing me your dragon peen.” Although . . .

“Maybe my dragon doesn’t have a peen.”

I paused with my hand on the front door. “You don’t?”

He rose and strode over to stand close to me, pretty much pressing me against the wooden door. I found I liked it when he did stuff like that, plus the slightly alpha way he spoke and the way he did his best to bring out the passion I’d kept hidden.

He feathered his mouth along my neck, not stopping until he reached my earlobe that he flicked with his tongue. With any other guy, I’d be cringing and swiping the wetness away.

With Reylor? I wanted to drag him back to the library desk for round two.

“What’s with your fascination with my peen?” he drawled. “I’ll be happy to show you both if you ask sweetly.”

“Your dragon peen must be huge.” Why wasn’t I letting this go? I didn’t care about a beast’s cock.

“It’s proportional, like the rest of me.”

“We need to stop talking about peens,” I said, trying to sound prim and proper about this. My trembling mouth gave me away.

We both burst into laughter.

“Wear something sexy,” he said.

“If I wear a dress, people will be able to look up my skirt.”

“They won’t see much.”

I met his gaze. “They will if I don’t wear any underwear.”