Chapter 6
The patio went very still.
A gull called out over the water.
Somewhere inside the house, a suitcase wheel rolled across hardwood.
"She knew," I repeated.
"We discussed it as a family." He crossed his arms again.
"Connor agreed it was the right thing to do.
Madison was on board.
We all were.
You were the only one who didn't know, because you would have said no without even listening."
I looked at him for a long moment.
Then I picked up the folder again, tucked it under my arm, and walked back toward the glass door.
"Where are you going?" he called after me.
"To speak with my buyer." I didn't turn around.
"And then I'm going to make a phone call.
You should use the time to instruct your guests to be off my property within the hour."
He raised his voice.
"Diane.
Don't make this into something it doesn't need to be."
I slid the door open.
"It already is what it needs to be," I said.
"You made it that way in April."
I stepped inside, crossed the great room past the remaining guests, and walked out the front door to meet Alan Mercer in the driveway — the folder pressed against my ribs, my hands perfectly steady now, my mind already moving ahead to the next necessary thing.
* * *
# CHAPTER 4: The Buyer at the Door
Alan Mercer was a quiet man.
Tall, silver-haired, with a calm way of standing still that suggested he was used to difficult rooms.
He had driven up from Spokane for the second time, and he had the good grace not to comment on the three unfamiliar cars still sitting in my driveway or the couple who hurried past us toward a blue hatchback with their cooler rattling between them.
"Dr.
Mercer." I extended my hand.
"I'm sorry for the confusion this morning."
May you like
"No trouble," he said, and seemed to mean it.
"I'm in no hurry."
