“I’ll drop it off at the repair shop on the way back,” she explained. “It’s not keeping the right time.”
But after letting Jase off at the airport parking lot, she sped over to her favorite Waco pawnshop and scored three hundred dollars. It could have brought ten times that if she had left it with an antique dealer on consignment, but she needed the cash immediately. Back in Bosque Bend, she deposited the check in First National and heaved a sigh of relief.
*
Jase was surprised to see that he’d beaten Laurel back to the house, and even more surprised to see Sarah coming across the street toward him as he was getting out of the car.
He walked down the drive to meet her. “You’re taking your life in your hands, crossing Austin Avenue like that.”
She glanced back at the street and shrugged. “It’s not really that bad, if you’re careful. I’ve been doing it since I was a kid. There are always lulls.” Pausing for a moment, she looked at him as if trying to decide what to say. “You’re Jase Redlander, aren’t you?”
He nodded, suddenly wary. Bosque Bend could be quick on the trigger. Was he going to get run out of town again? He’d couldn’t help but take a quick glance toward Laurel’s house. At least this time they’d have cause.
“I’m Sarah Edelman.” She extended her hand. “I used to be Laurel’s best friend, but we’ve sort of lost contact lately.” She held on to the handshake, her dark eyes dancing as she smiled up at him in shrewd assessment. “Lord, you’re a hunk. I remember back in high school, when Laurel had such a terrible crush on you. She thought you hung the moon.”
Jase grinned. What else could he do when a pretty woman complimented him? “I felt the same way about her. I still do.”
Sarah’s playfulness faded and she dropped his hand. “I just wondered…How’s she doing. I mean, is she okay?”
Jase was baffled at the strange turn of the conversation. Did Sarah think he’d killed her old friend and stowed the body in the attic? “She’s just fine. Uh—would you like to come inside and wait for her? I’m expecting her any minute.”
“No, no, that’s okay. My mother would wonder where I’d gotten off to.” She flashed a quick, meaningless smile. “You know, she’d think I’d ditched the boys on her and run off to join a circus or something.”
There was a message unspoken that he didn’t understand. “Do you want me to have Laurel call you when she gets home?”
“No!” Sarah caught a quick breath and stepped back in denial. “I mean, I’d better be getting back now. Uh—nice to see you again.” She raised her hand in a brisk farewell, walked quickly to the curb, and made her way across the street without looking back.
Chapter Twelve
Jase watched to be sure Sarah made it across the street.
What the hell was that all about?
He shrugged. Oh well, he had other things to tend to, and first on his list was the dishwasher. He walked to the den and picked up the phone, offering an extra twenty if the repairman got to the house within fifteen minutes.
The guy made it in ten.
*
Laurel paused for a second after entering her driveway. She’d given Jase a key in case he got back first, but she hadn’t expected him to have company. There, in the parking area in front of the garage, angled beside Jase’s Cadillac, sat an appliance company van.
She entered through the kitchen door. What now?
God help her. Jase, Mr. Cool, was leaning against a kitchen counter, his long legs crossed at the ankles, as he carried on a conversation about the Baylor Bears’ upcoming season with a uniformed repairman who was down on the floor doing something to the innards of her dishwasher.
A twinge of anger zinged through her. Now she’d have to pay for something else she couldn’t afford.
Jase came over to her, encircled her waist with one arm, and kissed her cheek in greeting. “I didn’t think you’d let me put in central air, honey, but I’m going to insist on this thing being fixed.”
Slipping out of his embrace, she affected an air of indifference. “I’ve been meaning to have it taken care of, but it just didn’t seem worthwhile with me being the only one in the house.”
Moving to the pantry, she began to prepare sandwiches for their lunch, which gave her an excuse to stay in the kitchen and keep an eye on developments.
How much would the work cost? Could she ask to be billed?
But when the repairman started to present her with an invoice, Jase hauled out his wallet, peeled off a couple of large bills, and handed them over. It was a relief, but it also made her uncomfortable.
Guests don’t pay for food, and they don’t pay for dishwasher repairs either.