The Heirloom Murders - Kathleen Ernst [36]
Chloe shrugged. “Well … I don’t know. Dellyn should be the one to go with you.”
“Maybe,” he said softly. “But I’d rather take you.”
Chloe took a small step backward. Sasso’s parking lot, with its steady stream of Old World staff, was the last place she wanted Markus to make a move. “I said, I don’t know. Give me some space, will you? I’ll think about it.”
Moments later Chloe watched his rental car crawl from Sasso’s parking lot. Well, shit. Her last words to Markus Meili had sounded petulant and shrewish.
So what? she asked herself. She didn’t know if she wanted to go on another excursion with him. And yet … part of her did want to go back to the farm with him. Part of her did want to try to recreate their past, the shared camaraderie—the easiness that had briefly taken over this evening.
And that part scared her witless.
She slid into her Pinto and slammed the door with unnecessary force. Then she rested her elbows on the steering wheel, and her face in her hands. Taking Markus to Sasso’s had been royally stupid.
She hadn’t planned to take Markus to Old World, and she had. And then when he suggested dinner … well, it seemed rude to refuse. The site tour had given them something to talk about over their meal. And when they’d relinquished their table to waiting diners, and Markus had suggested a nightcap, something made her agree.
A sharp rap on the car window jerked Chloe back to the moment. A young man wearing a straw hat, linen shirt, and wool trousers held up with suspenders stood by the car. She rolled the window down.
“You OK?” he asked.
One of the interpreters. From the German area, wasn’t it? “Yeah,” Chloe said. “Just a headache. But I’m fine.”
“OK, then,” he said, and sauntered on to his own junker. People didn’t go into historic sites work for the money. But they are kind, Chloe thought. They take care of their own.
And that made her think about Dellyn. Her friend Dellyn, who was struggling with far worse problems than she was.
Chloe stared blindly out the windshield, letting something that had been nagging at her subconscious wiggle to the foreground. As it did, she felt another flicker of unease. It seemed odd that Dellyn didn’t even remember seeing the file Chloe had left out on her kitchen table. Misplacing it, as she had done the original article about the Eagle Diamond—maybe. But to not even remember seeing it …
Chloe fished her key from her pocket, and turned it in the ignition. If she took the more easterly route home, she’d drive right by Dellyn’s place.
Five minutes later she parked on the street in front of the Burke house. Twilight had muted the evening, but a lamp burned in the front window. Chloe marched up to the porch and rang the bell.
The chime was met with only silence. She rang again, waited. Nothing. Well, Dellyn had said Simon was taking her to dinner. Maybe she was still out. The free-standing garage was windowless, so she had no way of checking for Dellyn’s car.
Or … maybe Dellyn was home, and finding solace in her mother’s garden. Chloe hurried around the house. The garden was empty, but a light glowed from the old barn beyond it. Maybe Dellyn had decided to poke through whatever had been stashed there. She was probably looking for artifacts to display in the Garden Fair.
Chloe skirted the garden. The barn door was ajar, and she slid inside. The building still smelled faintly of musty hay and manure. Several bare bulbs cast a yellow glow on stalls now filled mostly with furniture—a chest of drawers, a huge china cabinet. A long wooden counter, perhaps saved from an old store, had been shoved against the closest wall. An anvil, and a variety of blacksmithing tools, stood in front of it.
Geez Louise. It would take some digging to excavate the agricultural tools Dellyn hoped to find.
There was no sign of Dellyn. One of the far corners had been walled off—perhaps an office or workroom of sorts?—and Chloe headed in that direction. “Hello?” she called.
The lights