A Cold Tomorrow (Point Pleasant #2)

“I can’t either.” She hugged him again, then laughed. “You got so tall.”

“And you got so…” He paused and wiggled his eyebrows, molding his hands in the shape of an hourglass. “Curvy.”

She swatted his arm. “You always were a trouble-maker. Do you want to come in for a while? The house is a wreck, but—”

“Actually, that’s why I’m here. I wanted to go over the vandalism report with you.” He sobered abruptly and stepped away. “And I’m sorry about my mother. I hope she didn’t say anything to upset you.”

“No, I…” How did she explain the odd conversation? She’d only been in Point Pleasant a short while. The last thing she wanted to do was offend a childhood friend by pointing out that his mother was off her rocker.

Ryan shook his head, clearly conscious of what may have been said. “Sometimes she gets confused and gets caught up in the past.”

Eve let the remark slide without comment. “I was just going to get my bags out of my car.” She steered the conversation elsewhere. “Maybe you could give me a hand?”

“Sure.”

Together, they trudged to her Corolla. Ryan grabbed her suitcase and overnight bag while Eve snatched a jacket from the backseat along with a few boxed goods she’d brought for the trip. Later, she’d hit the grocery store and stock up on perishable items. At least the refrigerator was in working order.

In the house, Ryan carried her luggage upstairs while she detoured to the kitchen with her small parcel of crackers, instant rice, and peanut butter. She wished she had something to offer him, but the best she could manage was peanut butter and crackers. Mentally, she bumped the grocery store higher on her to-do list.

“I put everything in the spare bedroom for you,” Ryan announced, entering the kitchen. “I guess you saw Rosie’s room is a mess.”

Eve added her box of instant rice to the nearest cupboard, nudging aside several cans of Campbell’s soup left behind by Aunt Rosie. A vivid memory flashed through her mind as she recalled her aunt feeding her tomato soup and a grilled cheese for lunch on a brisk autumn day.

“Her dark room, too.” Eve shut the cupboard and turned, bracing her back against the counter. “The vandals hit the upstairs hard. Do you have any idea who would have done such a thing?”

“Afraid not.” Ryan motioned her toward the dining room. “Let’s sit down.”

At the dining room table, he withdrew a folded sheaf of papers from his breast pocket. “I thought you should have a copy of the vandalism report.”

Eve eyed the papers he handed her. It was standard stuff—date, time, damage done. “Who reported it?”

“No one. I still live next door with my mom. It’s um…complicated.” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “After Rosie died, I kept an eye on the place. Several days after her death, I was walking around the house when I noticed the door on the screened porch had been busted. I guess the vandals chose it because it was hidden from the street. Easy entry.”

“Did they take anything?”

“Not that I could tell, but Rosie isn’t here to answer that question. I should have said it before, Eve, but you have my sympathies.” He covered her hand with his where it rested on the table.

She managed a wan smile and nodded a thank you. It was good to see him again, a familiar face that made the shock of returning to her childhood home less traumatic. Even if he was grown, no longer the thirteen-year-old boy she remembered, he was still the brother of her one-time best friend.

“So you think it was just kids out for some fun?” She winced, unable to comprehend how anyone could view destroying the home of the recently deceased as entertaining.

He hesitated. “It looks that way.”

“Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“Nothing of importance.” He patted her hand again and stood, then paced a short distance away. “What are you going to do with the place?”

The million-dollar question. “Sell it, of course.” It hurt to say, as if she was turning her back on Aunt Rosie and all her aunt held dear. “Vandalism aside, the home needs work to make it desirable. I’m no expert, but it looks like it could use a new roof and several of the rooms should be repainted. If I want to put it on the market, I’m going to have to fix it up first.” It was a sobering thought. “I don’t suppose you could recommend someone?”

He surprised her with a quick answer. “Do you remember Caden?”

“Your brother?” Her heart lurched again. How could she forget her childhood crush?

“He has a contracting business. Home remodeling, repairs. That sort of thing.”

“It sounds ideal.” For some reason she hadn’t considered encountering him when she’d returned to Point Pleasant. “Do you have a phone number for him? I’d like to talk to him about taking on the repairs.”

“How about if I have him stop by tomorrow? Will that work?”

“Perfect.” She was planning on addressing the hotel tomorrow, something that would probably take most of the day. “Do you think he can stop early? Around nine? I was planning on visiting the hotel later.”

“It shouldn’t be a problem.” He shot her a sideways glance as if measuring her reaction. “The hotel is still the center of town.”

“I thought as much.” Eve glanced at her hands, thinking back to the years when her parents and Aunt Rosie had made the hotel the focus of their lives. It had been her family’s defining legacy long before she was born. Her great grandfather Clarence had paid for its construction in 1922, then quickly turned the establishment into a thriving operation, bolstered in part by Point Pleasant’s blossoming river trade. It hadn’t taken her more than a few hours in town to realize those days were nothing more than a memory. “I noticed things are different.”

A shadow crossed Ryan’s face. “A lot’s changed since you left.”

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