My Sister's Grave (Tracy Crosswhite, #1)(29)

“You’re kidding?” No shit, Sherlock had been one of Dan’s favorite expressions.

Dan turned his attention to the other dog. “And this—”

“Let me guess. Ex-Lax,” she said. Dan’s other favorite boyhood expression had been smooth move, Ex-Lax.

“Now that would just be gross. No, this big boy is Rex, as in T. rex.” T. rex didn’t bother to sniff her hand. “He’s a bit more reserved than Sherlock.”

“What breed are they?”

“Rhodesian and Mastiff mix. They weigh in at a combined two hundred eighty-six pounds and their food bill is twice the size of mine. Go ahead and take them inside. I’ll put your car in the garage in case anyone is nosy.” She’d noticed a freestanding garage at the back of the property.

Tracy stepped into a den with an L-shaped couch facing a brick fireplace, over which hung a large flat-screen television. The den flowed into a kitchen with a table and chairs, granite counters, barstools, and incandescent lighting. Tile samples rested against the kitchen splash behind the sink. Dan closed the door behind her and handed her back her keys.

“You’re remodeling,” she said.

“That’s an understatement. After forty years, it needed a makeover.”

He walked into the kitchen, but the dogs kept their attention on Tracy. She dropped her bag on one of the barstools. “You’re planning on staying?”

“After all the work I just put in, I better get some enjoyment out of it.”

“You did this?”

“You don’t have to sound that surprised.” He opened the refrigerator.

“I just don’t remember you being that handy.”

Dan spoke from behind the door. “You’d be amazed what you can learn when you’re bored, motivated, and have access to the Internet. Are you hungry?”

“Don’t go to any bother, Dan.”

“No bother. I did tell you I know a great restaurant.” He returned with a plate containing four large hamburger patties. “I was just about to make my famous bacon cheeseburgers.”

She laughed. “I can feel my arteries hardening already.”

“Please don’t tell me you’ve become one of those grain-eating vegan types.”

“With my schedule? I’m lucky to see a vegetable unless it’s a tomato on a Whopper bun.”

“Technically, a tomato is a fruit.”

“Whatever. What, are you also a horticulturist now?”

“If you’re nice, after dinner I’ll show you my vegetable garden.”

“You must have been really bored.” She stepped to his side of the counter. “What can I do to help?” Side by side, Dan was a good four inches taller. The sweater accentuated his broad shoulders and a trim chest. She elbowed him playfully and hit a solid torso. “I seem to recall a guy with a lot more baby fat. I know it isn’t the diet.”

“Yeah, well some of us weren’t blessed with the Crosswhite long legs and muscle-tone gene.”

“I’ll have you know I work out four days a week,” she said.

“I’ll have you know it shows.”

“Oh God, I sounded like one of those middle-age women fishing for a compliment, didn’t I?”

“If you were, I was hooked. Come on, why don’t I show you to your room? You can take a hot shower and relax while I get dinner started.”

“I think that sounds even better.” She grabbed her bag and followed him to the stairs.

“Should I have a glass of red wine waiting, or are you going to tell me you’ve given up alcohol?”

“Only the kind that’s good for you.”

She followed him into a room at the top of the stairs and was again surprised by the furnishings, a wrought-iron bed and early American antiques, with a bushy broom in one corner and a bed warmer in another. Over the bed hung a painting of a woman lighting a fire in a darkened pioneer home. Tracy dropped her bag on the bed. “Okay, I’ll buy the remodel, but no way you decorated on your own.” She guessed a girlfriend.

“Sunset Magazine.” Dan shrugged. “Like I said, I was bored.” He closed the door and left her to settle in.

Tracy sat on the edge of the bed, considering their banter, which in some respects felt like old times, though Dan was definitely now more adept at his comebacks than she remembered. She found herself smiling. Was Dan flirting with her, or were his comments just an adult version of the ribbing they used to give one another when they were kids? It had been a long time since anyone had flirted with her.

“I’ll have you know it shows?” she said, groaning at the sound of it. “Way to look needy.”



When Tracy stepped out of the shower, her limited choice of clothing became even more frustrating. She left her blouse out instead of tucking it into her jeans to create a different look and pulled her hair back into a ponytail, her crow’s-feet be damned. She applied mascara and eye shadow, added a touch of perfume to her wrists and neck, and headed downstairs to the smell of bacon and hamburgers wafting from the grill, announcers providing the play-by-play of a college football game on the flat-screen.

Dan stood at the counter beating the contents of a glass bowl with a whisk. A pie crust with lemon filling sat on the counter.