Free Murder in the River City by Allison Brennan Page A

them to spend the rest of their miserable, rotten lives in jail.”
     
     

Chapter Nine
     
    Shauna wished she hadn’t told Sam she wanted to go to Dooley’s. All she really wanted was to go home and go to bed. Fortunately, Mike got there quick and checked her over. He wanted her to go to the hospital because she had a mild concussion, but she refused. Finally, he told her he was staying overnight, that he’d run home and pack an overnight bag. “Take her home, Sam. I’ll be there in an hour, tops.”
    Shauna drove herself—it wasn’t far—and Sam followed. She was thankful her brother hadn’t pushed her for more details, though she was pretty certain he’d be pushing her tonight.
    She’d bought a Victorian house last year when the California housing market had hit rock bottom. Housing hadn’t improved much, but she didn’t plan on selling any time soon. She’d bought the house because of the structure—it was sound, with unique architecture circa 1900. It was a rare three-story, single-family home with a basement that had never been converted to apartments, with a grand but worn wood staircase in the entry. Some people might have thought her foolish for buying a house more than a century old, but she’d fallen in love. And love couldn’t always be explained by words.
    Though the bones of the house were solid, there was a lot of work that needed to be done. She’d moved in before most people would have—the water heater was old and barely offered lukewarm showers, the air conditioning was from the 1970s with two big box units sticking out of the dining room and master bedroom windows respectfully. The kitchen had been updated in the 1950s with an antique but functional gas stove, tiny refrigerator, and no dishwasher. She’d barely touched the horrid 1960s wallpaper that plastered the downstairs and had cringed when she realized one of the previous owners had painted over real oak panels in the upstairs bedrooms.
    There were several things that made the house loveable, especially to her trained eye. She yearned to bring the house to its full potential. Though it might take ten years to do everything she wanted, she was excited about the possibilities.
    She drove down the narrow driveway to the single-car garage in the back. Sam parked in front of the house. She walked back down the drive and Sam met her on the wide front porch. “This is your place?”
    “Don’t sound surprised.”
    “I’m not. I just didn’t realize you’d bought it. You used to drive by it all the time.”
    Shauna was stunned he remembered.
    “I’m fine. I’m home. Mike’s coming over. You can go.”
    He shook his head. “We need to talk.”
    She unlocked her door. “Ten minutes.”
    “Shauna—”
    “Sam, I’m done, okay? I get it now. Let the cops do their job. Obviously, Detective Black is taking me seriously now, and that’s all I wanted.”
    “I take you seriously, Shauna. We’re going to catch whoever killed Mack and attacked you.”
    She knew Sam would try, and perhaps that was all she should expect.
    Shauna walked through her too-hot house and turned on the lumbering air-conditioning unit in the dining room. At least one room would be inhabitable. She then went to the back of the house to the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the refrigerator. It wasn’t quite cool enough—the refrigerator seemed to work double time to keep everything at 42 degrees rather than 38, but it was better than nothing.
    Sam followed her. “This place is amazing.”
    A smile escaped. “I think so. It’s going to take me a while to do what I want with it. And I’m not going to half-ass anything. I know what I want, and I’m going to do it right the first time.”
    “You’ve always known what you want.” He nodded toward the refrigerator. “Can I have one too?”
    “If you can drink it in eight minutes. Because that’s all you have left.” Shauna handed him a bottle then went to the dining room and stood in front of the