A High-End Finish(31)

“Probably be gone a week or so,” Uncle Pete said, after taking a big bite of bacon.

“Will you be okay while I’m gone?” Dad asked.

“I’ll be fine. I’m hoping for a lot less excitement than we had last week.”

“Damn straight,” Dad said, then lowered his voice to add, “But if that police chief comes sniffing around, accusing you of anything again, you call me. I’ll race back here and give him a piece of my mind.”

I smiled. “Thanks, Dad.”

? ? ?

At noon, I drove over to meet Penny at her house. My main objective was to find out more about Jerry Saxton and the rumors about the foreclosures he might’ve manipulated. But I hadn’t mentioned that subject when I spoke to her on the phone, hoping I might bring it up more casually at some point. Instead, I’d told her I had the samples I’d gathered for her counters, floor, and backsplash. I had wood-grain samples, too, from which she could choose her cupboards and drawers.

“I’m sorry I have only an hour to spend,” she said, slinging her suit jacket and purse over the back of a dining room chair. “It’s crazy busy at work today. And I just realized I’ve been saying that a lot lately.”

“I guess being busy is better than the alternative.”

“Absolutely,” she said with a grin. “I should be used to it by now, but I’m always surprised at how many people like to bank on Saturdays.”

I checked the clock. “I think we can get through all of this with time to spare.”

“Sounds good.” She sat down at the table and pulled an apple out of her purse. “I hope you don’t mind if I munch while you talk.”

“Please do.” I placed the heavy box of samples on the table and pulled the tiles out one by one. I discussed the pros and cons of each floor tile and counter sample, weighed the benefits of travertine versus ceramic tile, and discussed prices. I laid the tiles down on the kitchen floor for her to imagine how they might look. “I’ll leave all of these with you for you to play with during the week.”

“Thanks.” She pointed to one of the squares on the floor. “I love that rust-colored travertine, but I’m not sure the color will go with everything else I like.”

“I brought another book with additional colors for you to look through.”

Her eyes lit up. “You think of everything.”

“That’s my job,” I said with a smile.

We went through the same process with the marble and granite samples for the kitchen counters. She picked out a beautiful black-and-red-speckled granite that I knew would go perfectly with the vertical-grain Douglas fir she’d chosen for the cupboards and drawers.

“If you’re not happy with something, I’ll keep looking,” I assured her.

“I’m happy, I promise.” She stood and pulled her jacket on.

“Okay, but you can always change your mind.” I stood, too, and grabbed my purse. “I’ll give you another week to go through the books, and if you’re still happy with these choices, I’ll start ordering.”

“Sounds great.”

As she led the way outside, we talked some more about a tentative schedule for the work. Then I broached the real topic I’d wanted to discuss with her. “Hey, do you mind if I ask you a question about Jerry Saxton?”

“Ugh,” she said, making a face. “No, I guess not. Have the police talked to you yet?”

“Oh yeah. Two hours the other night at the police station, plus a few minutes the next day. I doubt it’ll be the last time they question me.”

“Unfortunately, you’re probably right,” she said. “They talked to me for a while, too. I’m glad they’re being thorough, though. It’s creepy to know there’s a killer on the loose.”

Very creepy, I thought, barely suppressing a shiver.

“Anyway,” I said, getting back to the subject, “I heard a rumor that Jerry pulled some shady maneuvers with some of the bank loans. I’m worried that a few of my clients might’ve been affected.”

“Oh, God.” Her shoulders sagged slightly. “It’s all true, but you didn’t hear it from me. I’m not at liberty to discuss it, but, believe me, if Jerry wasn’t already dead, my bank president would gladly kill him.”

“That sounds bad.” I grimaced, wondering if the bank president should be considered another suspect.

“It’s beyond bad,” she assured me with a serious frown. “Besides being a jerk and a womanizer, the guy was a crook.”

“That sucks for the bank,” I said, then added, “But on the bright side, at least you didn’t date him.”

She began to laugh. “No, thank God.”

I sighed. “I guess I’d be laughing, too, if I didn’t have the cops breathing down my neck about it.”

She gave me an encouraging smile. “Don’t worry. They’ll figure out you’re not guilty and move on to someone else pretty soon.”

“Hope so.”

She opened her car door, and with a wave good-bye I headed for my truck.

“Oh, wait,” she said. “I wanted to ask you something.”

I turned. “What is it?”

“I think we go to the same gym. Flex-Time over on Old Cove Road?”