“We’re going to have to go with names and not reputation,” she said, sticking out her hand. “Kaylee Sloan.”
“Mike Valenzuela, how you doing?”
“Great,” she said. “I didn’t know you were the police.”
“Constable for this town. How’s the new place?”
“It’s very nice,” she said. “Just what I was looking for since the Templeton house is off the market. I’m lucky—it was just a lucky break.”
“Have you heard from the Templetons?”
“Not since I talked to him right after the fire. Gerald said he’d give me a call once he learned more about the cause. He thinks he’ll have to come up here and plan some repairs. He or one of his sons.”
The door opened and a tall man came in and walked toward Mike and Kaylee. “Hey there,” he said. “I think I saw you at the fire. I’m Paul Haggerty.”
She recognized him as one of the many men gathered around the dregs of the fire. “Kaylee Sloan.”
“Did I hear you say the Templetons were friends of yours?”
“That’s right. I was going to use their house for a few months.”
Paul pulled a card out of his pocket. “Next time you talk to Gerald, tell him I’m hoping for a chance to bid on the remodel. I have a construction company in town. He knows me, but I don’t know if he’ll remember I’m a builder. I do a lot of remodels and upgrades around here.”
“I’ll be sure to pass that on.”
“Thank you. Are you doing okay?”
“She’s renting that extra house out at Landry’s,” Mike said.
“It’s nice out there. I helped Landry tear out a wall in the big house and he works with me from time to time.”
“Oh, this is the girl from the fire,” someone else said.
Over the next hour she chatted with Connie, the owner of the Corner Store; Noah, the minister; Colin and Luke Riordan, names she’d heard before, and then of all people to drop by, Landry came in, greeting her as if they were old friends. There was a lot of hand shaking and howdies, a couple of beers, a couple of sodas, a black coffee. Mel came in to take her afternoon break with her husband. Kaylee met the cook, Preacher, and his wife. Before she realized what had happened, she’d been in the bar for two hours and the place was beginning to fill up with construction workers or farmers or people from businesses around town.
At five Jack asked her if she was staying for dinner. “Not tonight,” she said. “I have a kitty to feed.”
“Something to go?”
She’d been to the store; she did a mental inventory of what she had on hand, but somehow it didn’t create a picture of a meal in her mind. “A salad to go?” she asked.
“Sure. Can I give you a chicken breast with that?”
“Absolutely,” she said. “And a hunk of bread?”
“You got it.”
A few minutes later she made her way out of the bar with her sack of takeout. She had noticed that Landry left just before she did and when she got home she saw that he was in the fenced yard with the dogs. He waved to her.
“You need anything, Kaylee?” he shouted.
She lifted her bag. “I’m all set, thanks.”
“Have a great night,” he yelled.
“You, too,” she called out, waving.
Now, that wasn’t such a big deal. Just neighbors being friendly, that’s all. But there was much about him to enjoy, not the least of which was his kindness. He didn’t have to ask if she needed anything. He was also handsome. And sexy. And right next door.
She fed her kitty, ate her salad, put on her pajamas and sat on the big bed with her laptop. The sun was setting but she had not achieved much by way of writing, so she opened the laptop while the kitty played beside her on the bed, frequently jumping onto the laptop keys. She forced herself to deal with the dead body in the story, though nothing could have interested her less.
Then she flipped over to that other document, to the fantasy world of her new fictional characters Caroline and Landon. She decided that her own life story lacked pizazz so she made a few adjustments for Caroline. Instead of grieving the loss of her best friend, she decided it would be more interesting if Caroline was a young widow and no one in her new town knew the details.
The only job she could find was a temporary position as an assistant to a producer who happened to be shooting a docudrama in the small town she chose for her escape, for her second chance. It was nothing but busywork, handing out scripts, setting up chairs for a reading, making sure everyone had what they needed, whether that was a coffee or a masseuse. Once, just a few days into her new job, the director stopped her and said, “Do us a favor and read this scene.”