The Heirloom Murders - Kathleen Ernst [25]
“Freaky.”
“He’s there just on business?”
Chloe leaned back in the big brown chair in her living room. “No. He says he still has feelings for me. He wants to try things again.”
“It took him long enough to figure that out.”
“No kidding.”
“Do you still have feelings for him?”
“I don’t know.” Chloe closed her eyes. “Mostly I just feel pissed off. All those months when I would have given anything for a phone call from Markus, and then, finally, just when I’m putting it all behind me …”
“What about you and that cop with the funny name? Are you still seeing him?”
“Sort of. Not really. I don’t know.” Chloe used one finger to stroke Olympia, who had jumped into her lap. “Ever since I told him about Markus, things have been really strained. He was over here the other evening—”
“Yeah?” Ethan sounded pleased.
“It’s not what you think. He was here on business. Sort of.”
Ethan groaned.
“Don’t freak out. It’s nothing that involves me.” Chloe told Ethan about Dellyn and Bonnie. “Roelke’s investigating Bonnie’s death. He just wanted to ask me about Dellyn.” And he almost kissed me, she thought. Almost.
“Are you doing OK?”
“I’m OK,” she said resolutely. “But I don’t have a clue what I’m going to do about Markus.”
He sighed audibly through the wire. “What do you want to do? What do you want, period?”
“I just—I think I just want some stability in my life. I’m thirty-two years old, for God’s sake. Isn’t it time I had a savings account, and a stable relationship?”
“Do you think Markus or Roelke could offer you those things?”
“I don’t want any man to take responsibility for my savings account. As for the other …” Chloe let the thought dangle. “Honestly? I have no idea. I don’t know that I could ever trust Markus again. And Roelke can be a nut job at times.”
“Maybe neither one of them is right for you.”
Chloe didn’t want to think about her tangled love life any more. “How about you and Chris? Everything OK on your end?”
“He’s good. We’re good. Celebrating three years together next month.”
“Good for you. I’m glad somebody’s life is stable.”
He laughed softly. “Things will work out for you, Chloe. Whatever ends up happening between you and Markus … maybe you needed to see him again. You two ended things so abruptly, there was bound to be a lot of stuff left unsaid.”
“Or maybe talking to him is the verbal equivalent of pressing my hand down on a hot stove just when the first burn was starting to heal.” Chloe switched the phone to her other ear. “Ethan? Thanks for listening.”
1876
“I’m coming up!” Charles shouted.
Albrecht frowned. Charles had only descended into the well a few moments ago. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing! Just tend the rope.”
Albrecht made sure the windlass was secure. Maybe Charles had decided he was hungry, and wanted his mid-day meal.
Clarissa was on her knees, planting seeds in her new garden. Her hand cultivator obviously needed sharpening. And did she know that she might get only five or six weeks before first frost? Perhaps he should say something to her. Offer some advice. He was a novice well-digger, but he knew plants.
Then Charles clambered up from the depths of the well. Albrecht offered a hand and helped pull him the last foot or so. “You’re stopping for dinner?”
“No.” Charles pulled something from his pocket. “Look at this. Ever see anything like it?”
Albrecht squinted at the yellowish stone. “No.”
“Me either.” Charles spit on the stone, then rubbed mud away with his thumb. The stone grew shiny, even sparkled in the sunshine.
Albrecht took the stone from Charles’s palm and scraped it with a fingernail. “Hard, too.”
“Clarissa!” Charles called. He took the stone back and curled it into one fist.
His wife left the garden and joined the men. “What is it?”
“Something pretty.” Charles grinned, and gave her the stone.
Clarissa’s face softened into a smile that made Albrecht’s heart ache. “It is pretty! I’ll wash it up and put it on the windowsill.”
“We’ll dig for another hour or so before stopping for dinner,” Charles told her. He slapped Albrecht on the shoulder. “Let’s get
to it.”