Page 19 of Destined Chaos
“If you could just give me the name and the number, I can make my arrangements.”
He tilted his head. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you don’t need my help.”
I smiled without answering. A wisp of white flew out of the den and up the stairs. No, no, no. They had better not start crap this morning. Not with Dinky and Johnson on the way.
He glanced over his shoulder. “Okay then. I’m just going to go.”
“You can take your emergency supply kit. I have stuff coming.”
“You’ve been busy this morning,” he said and headed for the door. I stood at the kitchen entrance and watched him.
“Don’t forget your kit.”
He glanced over his shoulder. “Keep it as a welcome back present. If nothing else, drink the champagne when you pass the inspection.”
He yanked the door open and came face to face with Dinky and Mr. Johnson.
“Thanks for taking care of Libby, but I’ve got her from here,” Dinky said.
“You know where the water valve is?” Hugh asked.
Dinky’s mouth parted, and he glanced at me. I shrugged. I had no idea where the valve was.
“Come on, let me show you. It’s currently off.”
Hugh and Dinky disappeared for mere minutes, leaving Mr. Johnson at the door.
“Please come in.”
Mr. Johnson smiled and had stepped inside when Dinky returned in the doorway.
“Do I even need to ask about why your water was turned off?” Dinky asked.
“Just one more thing I need to deal with. Thanks for bringing my car.”
“It doesn’t look like you’ll be able to drive it, judging by your foot.” Mr. Johnson held out his hand, and I took it. “I’m sorry to hear you had a spill last night.”
“Fractured, but it’s only hairline.”
His jaw ticked, and he nodded. “I have physicians that owe me favors. I can make a call to get you a second opinion.”
“That won’t be necessary.” My cheeks heated. “Let me grab my crutches, and I’ll give you a tour.”
“No need, Libby. I’d be happy to show Mr. Johnson around. You have a seat and elevate your foot,” Dinky said.
Johnson glanced at my foot once more and then followed as Dinky led him around the downstairs. When he got to the sitting room, Dinky glanced in my direction and shook his head.
I’d forgotten to sweep up the salt. I mouthed the word, sorry. My brain fog was back with a vengeance, thanks to the lack of sleep.
“I’ve read about this property,” Johnson said. “I even visited it once with my mother as a little boy.”
“Oh, that’s nice. I guess our families knew each other,” I said.
“I don’t think so. My mother was trying to track my father down, and this was his last location before the child support payments stopped. Mr. Slaughter said he’d moved on.”
“Wow. I’m sorry,” I said.
“No need to be sorry. I remember being transfixed by the place, and I’ve been hoping to find it on the market and here we are,” Henry answered.
