Carrie felt her cheeks turn various shades of fire.
“You should see your face, Carrie-mine. All shocked, just like a proper Jackson.”
“People talk like he’s some sort of gangster, that’s all.” She felt bad, knowing it wasn’t true.
“What people?” The old lady chortled. “Clinton Calloway? He had his eye on the Lewis place himself, only he couldn’t do it without his wife’s say-so. I’m sure Mr. Nash has the same amount of good and evil in him as the rest of us. Wait. He’s your computer guy. You already know him! Oooh, girl, you do like to hold your cards close to your chest, don’t you?”
A knock sounded on the office door.
“I interviewed him for a job,” said Carrie, stretching the truth a tiny bit. “He comes highly recommended and he seemed like a perfectly decent man… person… to me. So I hired him. Now if you don’t mind…”
Aunt Pansy gave Carrie a good, hard hug, pushed the bag with the lone remaining goodie at her, and trotted up the stairs, waving gaily as she went. “I’ll let myself out the kitchen, give you kids some privacy. Have fun, okay? You can tell me everything about your man-person later.”
Chapter Six
‡
Ethan sat in his car outside Carrie’s studio, listening to the engine grow silent, wishing he’d had some cooling-off time between this and Melvin’s visit.
He made himself look at the little house. Pretty. An old restored farmhouse, like what the original home on his property could have looked like, had he chosen to save it. White clapboard and shingle siding and even a length of decorative picket fence between the hedges.
It was postcard perfect, but then again, if anyone knew how to create a pretty picture, it was a photographer. He wondered if she’d taken the same care with the inside of the house. She seemed to be someone who cared about keeping up appearances, if her worry over those relatively tame photos was any indication.
Appearances. What a waste of energy.
Man. He had to get a grip on this mood.
But if Blondie-Amanda hadn’t wanted to lodge an official complaint, who was Calloway to do it on her behalf? The man seemed to have Ethan pegged a mouse to the mayor’s cat and it seriously pissed him off.
He’d done nothing wrong, and getting Animal Control involved was a low blow. If Calloway managed to get them deemed dangerous, Ethan would have to keep them hidden away on the property for the rest of their lives. Or make them wear muzzles.
His sweet, smart, beautifully-trained dogs. It didn’t bear thinking.
Let it go, man. He stepped out of his car onto the cobblestone sidewalk leading to the front door. Rosebushes flanked the gingerbread frontage, except these were blooming enthusiastically, which was more than he could say for the tangled, thorny jungle on the south side of his place. But then, what did he know about roses? He should get rid of them. Or ask Carrie what to do with them.
A mischievous brown-and-white face peered out at him from the shrubbery.
“Here, kitty, kitty,” he said. The cat narrowed her eyes, then scrambled under a bush.
The door opened then and Carrie’s face appeared. “Good morning,” she said. “Right on time. Come on inside and I’ll show you around.”
Thoughts of the mayor faded as the warmth of Carrie’s smile washed over him. She seemed so at ease with herself, at least, until she started talking about her photos.
“Nice studio,” he said.
Family portraiture was obviously the mainstay of Forever Yours Photography, if the numerous photos displayed on her walls were any indication.
She led him to a smaller room off to the side. “My office. Go on in, make yourself at home. My cat escaped. I have to go find her.”
“Brown and white tabby?” said Ethan. “Glint of evil in her eye? She’s under the shrub by the front door. I’ll show you.”
“Oh, thank goodness,” said Carrie. “You’re a lifesaver.”
That seemed a little hyperbolic, but Ethan couldn’t help but enjoy being on the receiving end of such casual praise.
When she bent over to get the cat he couldn’t help but admire the view, as well. He felt his irritation over the mayor evaporating.