wished she hadn’t volunteered quite so much information. She wasn’t interested in Tom, but he was still emailing and texting her, hoping to get her to go out with him again. That should count for something. And she had plenty of other men on that same dating site who were showing interest. “I’m trying not to make up my mind too soon.”
“Smart.”
Nancy almost asked where Keith was staying, if he was at Coldiron House or the rental bungalows on the other side of the island, which Maisey and Rafe managed. The vacation properties at Smuggler’s Cove were empty during the winter, so there’d be room. If he stayed there, it’d be a lot easier to avoid him.
But if she really wanted Maisey to believe she wasn’t interested in Keith, she couldn’t probe for information, regardless of the reason for her interest. “Tom’s a nice guy.”
“I’m glad to hear that. You deserve the best.” Maisey bent to pet Simba. “So how are you doing at the store? You don’t mind keeping the business going until we can get my mom’s affairs sorted out, do you?”
“Not at all.” Nancy enjoyed her work—and would enjoy it even more now that she knew Josephine wouldn’t be coming in to lambaste her with one complaint or another. Since learning of her employer’s death, she’d been toying with the idea of buying Love’s in Bloom. She’d thought that might be a possibility one day, but it had seemed much further off...
“Can you keep up?” Maisey asked. “Or do you need help?”
“Everything’s under control,” she replied. “I’ve got Marlene to spell me when I need it. She’s there now. So don’t worry about Love’s in Bloom. With Christmas over, it won’t be terribly busy, not until February when we gear up for Valentine’s Day. Marlene and I can manage for the next few weeks.”
The concern on Maisey’s face cleared, which lifted Nancy’s spirits. Perhaps she could take some of the pressure off Josephine’s daughter during this difficult time. That assuaged her conscience for being so darn relieved that Josephine was out of the picture.
“That’s comforting. I appreciate it.” Maisey straightened. “You’ll call me if anything changes, won’t you?”
“Don’t worry. I’d never let the business fall apart.”
Maisey gave her a quick hug. “Of course you wouldn’t. I’d trust you with my life. Somehow that renegade brother of mine has gotten filthy rich, so I’ll make sure he pays you until we can get my mother’s estate sorted out.”
Great. Just what she wanted. Keith paying her salary. But at least he was capable of doing so. He wasn’t on drugs anymore; he’d exhibited quite a dramatic turnaround. Not many people could pull that off.
Nancy felt a measure of pride in what he’d done—and tried to quash it. She didn’t need anything else to admire. His good looks and sex appeal already created a formidable challenge.
“I’ve got some savings, so I can wait if you need me to,” Nancy said.
“No need for that.”
Nancy kept a smile pasted on her face—and waved cheerfully—as she stood at the door and watched Maisey go. But as soon as Keith’s sister was gone and she allowed her hand to drop, her smile faded, too. She’d expected Josephine’s death to be difficult, had known there’d be a lot to resolve, with the flower shop, all the Coldiron real estate holdings, which included a good portion of the land outside Keys Crossing, and Josephine’s many other assets. Nancy had also known the whole ordeal would start with a funeral and the very real possibility that Keith would return for that reason.
But she’d assumed he’d stay for a few days, maybe a week at most. If Josephine’s death turned into a full-fledged murder investigation, who could say how long Keith might remain on Fairham?
“Hopefully, he’ll have too much business in California,” she muttered and decided to get her grocery shopping done before taking Simba for a walk.
A KNOCK ON his bedroom door woke Keith. He’d been up so late the sun was about to rise when he’d fallen asleep. His mind had been too busy to let go—and it didn’t help that he was still on California time. With the shades drawn, he’d slept late as a result.
“Mr. Lazarow?”
He yawned and adjusted his pillow. “Come in.”
Pippa poked her head into the room. “I hate to disturb you, sir, but your sister is here and would like to speak to you.”
Keith’s first thought was of the letters he’d found in his mother’s desk and the odd, haunting sensation that reading those letters had given him. He’d loved his mother; he even missed her, in a way. They’d had some good times. But loving someone and being able to get along for more than an occasional day or two were sometimes different things, at least when it came to Josephine.
I had to leave to survive, he reminded himself. But he’d been reminding himself of that ever since he’d received word of her death.
“Sir?”
Rising up on one elbow, Keith blinked at the housekeeper. “I called you last night,” he mumbled.
“Yes. By the time I got your message, it was too late to call you back. But...thank you for telling me I can return to work.”
Except for the extra gray in her hair, she hadn’t changed a bit. She was still wearing her crisp blue and white uniform, as if she’d stepped out of the 1960s South—or as if his mother was around to make a fuss if she didn’t. “Just so you know...you don’t have to wear that anymore.”
“Excuse me?”
He almost repeated himself, then sighed. “Never mind.” Perhaps she gained as much comfort from custom and tradition as his mother had. In any case, now wasn’t the time to challenge such trivial things.
His bleary eyes sought the fancy perpetual-motion clock on the nightstand. It was nearly eleven. He’d had all of five hours’ sleep. “You said Maisey was here?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Where?”
“In the drawing room.”
“Why didn’t she come up?”
“To your bedroom?”
He nearly laughed out loud. Pippa had been trained by his mother, all right. “No, of course not. That would be unseemly,” he said. “Tell her I’ll be down as soon as I get dressed.”
“Yes, sir. And...Mr. Lazarow?”
He paused before throwing off the covers. If Pippa was scandalized by the idea of his sister coming straight up to his bedroom, she’d probably faint if she saw him buck naked, the way he liked to sleep. “It’s good to have you back, sir. I’m sorry your return is under such dreadful circumstances.”
She sounded sincere, so sincere
