But that white picket fence was what sold him on this property and he sanded it and painted it once every two years. Any time there was a repair needed, he saw to it as soon as he could and he walked the fence occasionally just to check. The house was big, you could build a family there, you could add to it if you needed more room. But that long, white, rectangular line of fence surrounding it, delineating it, creating a yard, circling and highlighting the house made it seem like a home.
Chace waited until Silas made it to the end of the lane and stopped close to the house before he took his feet off the railing. He rose as Silas threw open his door. He walked to the top of the steps and leaned a shoulder against the white painted porch post as Silas made his way up the cleared of snow flagstone walk Chace laid six years ago.
“Mr. Goodknight,” he called when Silas was halfway up the walk and Silas, eyes to his boots, lifted a hand and kept up the path.
Only when he stopped at the bottom of the steps did his crystal blue eyes rise to Chace.
“Call me Silas, Detective Keaton,” he invited.
Chace jerked up his chin and returned, “Chace.”
Silas jerked up his own chin then tipped his head to Chace’s coffee mug. “Got more ‘a that?”
As answer, Chace turned and walked to the house, opening the storm door, the front door and moving through, turning to hold the storm door open for Silas to follow.
He did and in they went, Chace leading the way over the oak floors that led to the back of the house that he’d laid four years ago when Misty was on a two week vacation to visit a friend in Maryland.
Left side, a big dining room with rectangular table. The room had hints of western, hints of country, all of it with an underlying class that was all his mother.
Right side was what his mother liked to call the formal living room. Chace wasn’t formal so the room had two comfortable burgundy couches facing each other with more hints of western, none at all of country which his mother referred to as “the formal part”.
Chace moved through a deep, wide archway as he led Silas into the vast space that made up a big kitchen and family room.
The kitchen had an island in the middle with a five burner stove and so much counter space it served as a kitchen table that could comfortably seat a family of eight. The island was a showstopper but so was the massive picture window over the sink at the back of the house.
The family room had an enormous sectional, three sides which were essentially three full couches. Big flat screen TV. Shelves filled with books, CDs, DVDs. And a stone hearth fireplace in the corner.
Off the kitchen leading toward the front of the house was the pantry, a hidden entry to the dining room and doors to a utility room and the garage.
Straight ahead from the wide hall that flowed from the front of the house to the back, there were doublewide French windows that led to the back deck.
Chace went directly to the coffeepot, asking, “How do you take it?”
“Seein’ as Sondra ain’t here, three sugars and a healthy dose of half and half.”
Chace put down his mug, opened the cupboard and reached for another one as Silas continued to speak to his back.
“On me all the time, Sondra is. Her Dad had a heart attack so she’s got it in her head I’ll have one. I run two miles a day. Do my sit ups, pull ups, pushups every day. Work outside most of the time. Got ten acres to take care of. And three kids that may be grown but that don’t mean I don’t lend a hand. I do all this so I can enjoy half and half and sweet in my coffee. She doesn’t see the balance.”
Chace poured coffee and gave him the bad news. “I don’t have half and half. Just milk.”
“You don’t have half and half?”
His tone was off in a way that Chace couldn’t read but it still set him on edge. Or more on edge.
He looked over his shoulder at the man even as he reached for the sugar.
“No.”
Silas Goodknight locked eyes with him and announced, “My Faye, she puts half and half in her coffee. Hazelnut flavored.”
There it was. A feeler.
Chace and Faye were not seeing each other on the sly. By now, the whole town knew they were dating. Regardless, Faye had told Chace that she’d told her folks they were seeing each other when she was at dinner at their place last weekend.
Now, Silas Goodknight knew that his daughter was not waking up and making her coffee at Chace’s house.
Chace mentally added hazelnut flavored half and half to his grocery list and replied to Silas, “Buy her coffees at La-La Land, Silas. Know she likes hazelnut. Haven’t had occasion to see her usin’ half and half.”
Silas held his eyes a moment before murmuring, “Right.”
Chace turned away, prepared Silas’s coffee and handed the mug to the man before returning the milk to the fridge, tagging his own mug, turning toward him and resting his hips against the counter. Silas had the side of his hip to the island.
Neither man spoke as they both sipped.
Finally, Chace cut to it, “What brings you out this way, Silas?”