her courage, she said, “You get the whole upstairs. It’s furnished. You can use the kitchen. I don’t make meals for tenants because I’m usually at work. You can go on up and take a look, if you like.”
It wasn’t the friendliest she’d ever been to a tenant, but she didn’t want to be friendly. She was accustomed to renting the space to women, one of the teachers, college students or nurses in the area. The last had been a student at the junior college, a truly nice young woman who had moved on to a four-year school. The fall semester had just begun, and she didn’t have a replacement roomer yet. At this point, she probably wouldn’t until the spring semester.
This was certainly going to be different, she thought as she watched Austin hike up the stairs.
She gave her attention back to Gage. “I just got home and made some coffee. Do you have time?”
He glanced at his watch. “Sure. Emma’s working late tonight and the boys are thrilled to be ordering pizza. I’m a free man for a little while.”
Which she took to mean that he wanted to give her a chance to get comfortable with the new tenant. She appreciated that and finally gave him a smile. “Kitchen or living room?” she asked.
“Kitchen’s fine. We do everything in the kitchen at my place. I can’t figure out why we even have a living room most of the time. These days the boys don’t even watch TV. I can’t pry them off their computer games.”
She laughed. “If I had more time I’d probably get addicted to that myself.”
The strange little note fluttered as they passed. She reached for it, intending to toss it in the trash, but then, on impulse, she tucked it, along with its envelope, in one of the drawers of the hall table.
As she poured them coffee, she looked up at the ceiling. “I guess I’m going to have to get used to heavy footsteps.”
“That last tenant you had was a tiny sprite,” he agreed.
“Just a few months, you said? Because I’m probably going to have students wanting to rent for the next semester.”
“He just needs a little time and quiet. You pretend you’re somebody else for a half-dozen years, and then you have to find yourself again.”
“Was it like that for you?”
“Sometimes, but I didn’t go anywhere near as deep. Austin doesn’t have anybody just now. He went way deep from what I understand, and it leaves you a bit messed up. You also can’t just pick up old relationships, not for a while. It could be dangerous if you get identified. But I don’t know much I can tell you. Or even how much I know. Just rest assured that I wouldn’t have brought him here if I hadn’t vetted him.”
She supposed that would have to do. Sharing a house with a man made her feel uneasy, though, and she questioned whether she should really agree to this. But she had already invited Austin to look around. Could she possibly look at Gage now and tell him she had changed her mind?
“He’s DEA?” she asked.
“He’s a friend of a friend,” Gage answered. “I don’t know which agency. I just know that apparently he spent a lot of time in the border towns in Mexico.”
She blinked. While she wasn’t up on all the details, she’d heard how dangerous it could be for undercover agents. “My God!”
“And I don’t know whether he was involved in trying to stem the drug trade or the arms trade, but I guess it doesn’t matter. Two sides of the same coin.”
She looked up as she heard more footsteps. “That must have been hell.”
“Life on a tightrope, for sure. Anyway, he shouldn’t give you any problems, but if you have any, just call me. I’ll make other arrangements.”
She nodded, feeling a trickle of relief. “I’ve never taken a man as a roomer before.” For good reason. While she couldn’t remember her mother’s murder, she had had a problem with men ever since, especially men she didn’t know.
She returned her attention to Gage. “I take it you’re doing a favor for this friend?”
“Sorta. I just suggested it would be hard to get a bigger change of pace. We’re mostly quiet and peaceful and don’t have the kind of triggers that could set him off.”
“You would know. What do you mean, set him off?” She didn’t like that phrase.
“Nothing violent. Just that there isn’t much around here that ought to make him edgy. He should be able to start letting his guard down and maybe even take a few steps toward remembering who he used to be.”
She shook her head and looked down. “If there’s one thing I know, it’s that you can never be who you used to be. Somehow you have to try to stitch all the changes into a new you.”
Gage fell silent and drank his coffee. Corey supposed he was the last person on earth she’d needed to say that to. After all, this man had lost his entire family, a wife and two kids, to a bomb intended for him. Somehow he’d put himself together, remarried and built a family and a life here.
She wasn’t sure she’d really finished stitching herself together. Nor was she sure that traumatic amnesia had helped with that one bit. The doctors said it was okay to forget, but she didn’t always believe it. Yet it remained a horror she didn’t want to look at.
Heavy footsteps on the stairs.
“We’re in here,” Gage called.
Austin Mendez appeared in the door and hesitated.
“Coffee?” Corey asked, determined to be polite no matter how uneasy he made her.
“Thanks.”
She motioned him to a chair at the dinette and got him a cup. “Milk? Sugar?”
“Black’s fine, thanks. That’s a nice space you have up there.”
Corey brought him his coffee and sat again, across from him and Gage. Somehow she was going to have to get used to this, at least for a few months. She decided to try to be chatty.
“Part of that has to do with my tenants over the years. They’ve fixed it up in various ways to suit them, from painting the rooms, to furnishings. When they move on, they leave a nicer place behind.”
“I’m not sure I can do that, but I appreciate it.”
He looked as if he was making an effort and it didn’t come easily. South of the border? She’d bet he was more comfortable with Spanish than English right now. Unfortunately, her Spanish was more like Spanglish. But maybe that’s the last thing he needed to hear now, fluent or not. How would she know?
He spoke again. His English was slightly accented, as if he’d picked up a new habit. Or maybe it was an old one. The longer she sat here, the more questions she had about him. “Gage told me the rent, Ms. Donohue. I’d like to pay a little more.”
“Why should you do that?”
“Because Gage also told me you prefer to rent to women. I feel you’re
