Chapter 27

Bill had decided the foul-smelling heap of debris left after the ill-fated bonfire should be moved. He said Charlotte and Vivian could see it from any window and every time they got a vehicle from the stables it would depress them. He, Cyrus and Spike would clear the pile and see about laying new grass in the entire area.

Spike, who had decided he could be contacted here as easily as anywhere else, worked with Cyrus and Bill, digging and filling two large wheelbarrows. To their surprise, Dr. Morgan Link from next door had shown up to wheel away one load after another to a spot outside the far end of a drained swimming pool. The pool, with a jungle theme fountain at its center, could be seen from the back terrace outside the south and east wings and would be beautiful when the pump was replaced and the interior cleaned. A job for the future, Vivian had told Spike.

“This stuff stinks,” Bill said, rubbing his crewcut, tow-colored hair. “I mean, it really stinks.”

Cyrus worked steadily. Sweat ran down the sides of his face and his forearms shone with moisture. “Compost,” he muttered. “We need one of these at the rectory. Nothing like a good compost heap.”

Morgan Link returned, dropped the wheelbarrow he’d just used and took hold of the full one immediately.

“Hey, Doc,” Bill said. “Don’t push it. Get some of that iced tea Mrs. Patin brought out.”

Morgan considered. “Why not.” He wore gloves to work in and despite the exertion, he still managed to appear cool. After removing his gloves, he poured four glasses of tea and handed them around. “Getting rid of this pile of junk was a good thought. Those two need something to lift their spirits.”

“How’s Susan?” Bill asked.

Morgan didn’t look at him. “Well, thanks. Very busy with Olympia.”

Bill snickered. “Plenty there to keep anyone busy.”

Spike didn’t like Bill’s habit of sexualizing most references to women.

“Doctor,” Bill said. “Is it true Charlotte might sell this place to you?”

Spike saw Morgan wonder where Bill had gotten his information. “Well, yes. At least, we hope she’ll consider the offer we intend to make later. I don’t think I’m talkin’ out of school when I say there are big money worries here.”

Cyrus kept on digging, throwing spadeful after spadeful into the barrows. Spike felt guilty and set down his glass.

The sun beat down, turning up the temperature notch by notch. Spike shaded his eyes to squint at the sky over roofs where heat waves hovered.

“Why would you want this place?” Bill asked. “In addition to Green Veil, I mean.”

“Serenity House,” Morgan corrected him. “We’re people who understand gratitude. The world has been good to us and when we can, we like to find ways to pay back for that. Seeing these two nice women suffer for things that weren’t of their making upsets us. We want to help out.”

Spike thought, bull, but controlled his mouth.

“Admirable,” Cyrus said. When he spoke to you, you expected a look straight in the eye. Instead of looking at Morgan at all, he concentrated on driving his spade into the singed compost.

Bill made no comment at all.

“These grounds show a lot of promise,” Morgan continued. “We’ll probably incorporate them into ours.”

“And the house?” Spike said. Damn, he hated this man’s assumption that he’d always get what he wanted.

Morgan frowned deeply. “We’re not sure. Could be useful but it would have to be gutted.”

Spike was grateful Vivian and Charlotte weren’t listening to this. He wiped a forearm over his brow. He was assuming they’d have no interest in the offer for Link and Hurst to buy them out, but perhaps they’d be relieved to get rid of the place.

The kind of feeling that clamped his gut wasn’t new, only the reason for it. If Vivian were to leave Rosebank, would that mean she’d drop out of his life? And how would he handle it if she did?

Vivian was nothing like Wendy’s mother but he was still raw from the betrayal, and how did he know for sure it wouldn’t happen again? How long did it take to trust again once someone had turned on you? He wasn’t there yet, he knew that much.

Morgan took off with one of the wheelbarrows again while Cyrus, Bill and Spike kept on digging.

Cyrus spaded some of the compacted material down and started a minilandslide. He stood back and settled the point of his spade on the ground. While Spike watched him, puzzled, the man closed his eyes and crossed himself.

“What?” Spike said.

Shaking his head, Cyrus looked at him silently before continuing to dig.

“Hey, Cyrus,” Spike said, leaning on his own spade. “If you weren’t having a private vision just then, could ya share the moment?”

“Sometimes it’s better to be patient.”

Bill caught Spike’s eye and raised his brows.

Spike heard an engine and looked over his shoulder. Vivian’s green van approached. “Hey,” she called through the window. Boa stood on her lap and surveyed the scene. “Didn’t anyone tell you guys not to work too hard in the heat?”

“They did,” Spike told her. “But it’s always hot around here so if we followed that rule, nothing would ever get done. Now, who said that to me?”

“Spike,” Cyrus said in a hoarse whisper.

“Yeah.” Spike watched Vivian drive the van into the converted stables.

“Come here. Bill, give us a shout when Vivian comes this way.”

“What is it?” Bill said, starting toward Cyrus.

“Stay there,” Cyrus said. “Just until we head off Vivian.”

“I couldn’t head that woman off if I tried,” Bill said, sounding impatient. He followed in Spike’s footsteps until they stood beside Cyrus.

“Oh hell, it can’t be.” Bill wavered a little, then sat down hard on an upturned apple crate. His face had turned ashen.

“Don’t use the shovel,” Spike told Cyrus. He got down on his knees and carefully brushed dirt from a dead man’s face.