Free A Pizza to Die For by Chris Cavender Page B

make sense.”
    He wasn’t trying to be offensive, I could see that now. I really wanted him to understand my reasoning. “Maybe it doesn’t make sense on one level, but in my heart, there isn’t enough money in the world to make me give this place up.”
    Nathan put the checkbook back into his pocket and looked at Maddy. “Do you understand her?”
    “About half the time, if I’m having a good day,” she admitted with a grin. “The rest of the time I just play it by ear.”
    Nathan seemed to finally grasp what I’d been trying to tell him. With a dour smile, he said, “Okay, it’s not for sale. Got it. Tell you what I’ll do,” he said after a moment’s pause. “If I hire the right crew, can they come here to see what you’ve done? I’d appreciate if you’d give them pointers, too, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”
    “I can do that,” I said. “As a matter of fact, I’d be glad to help in any way I can.”
    He nodded. “That sounds like a plan. We’ll negotiate your fee later.”
    “We’ll do it now,” I said firmly.
    He looked surprised by my tone of voice and the direct nature of my reply, but he nodded briefly. “Tell me what you’re asking, and we’ll go from there.”
    “Listen carefully, because I’m not a woman to be trifled with. I have a figure in mind, and I won’t back down from it.”
    He took that declaration seriously. “Let’s hear it, then.”
    “I will accept nothing for whatever help I’m able to give you,” I said, “and that’s my final offer.”
    He looked bewildered by my requirement; that much was clear. “Why would you do that? What’s in it for you?”
    I gave him my broadest smile. “To see another bungalow brought back to life is all the pay I need. These houses need to be preserved, not destroyed to churn out large houses that no one needs. What do you think?”
    He seemed to mull that over, and then said, “Ma’am, I’m not sure I can accept that deal.”
    “Then I’m afraid we’re stuck,” I said.
    Again, Nathan turned to Maddy. “Is she always this stubborn?”
    “You don’t know the half of it,” my sister said.
    Nathan nodded, and then chewed on his lower lip for a few seconds before speaking again. “I’m a hermit, and I know how folks talk about me in town, but if I’d known you were around, I might have made more of an effort to get to know some of the people in Timber Ridge.”
    “I take that as a compliment,” I said.
    “Good, because that’s how I meant it.” He looked around admiringly, and then added, “You made the right decision.”
    That was a real switch in attitudes. “Do you mean it’s worth more than you were offering?”
    “In dollars? No, there you’re crazier than most folks think I am. But I can see this place is your home. I’m beginning to understand why you won’t sell it.” He yawned, and though the hour was still early, Nathan said, “Ladies, if you’ll excuse me, I’m bushed. Can I catch a ride back home?”
    “We’d be glad to take you,” Maddy said before I could reply.
    Once we were in the car, my sister asked from the back seat, “Did you hear about what happened at Italia’s today?”
    “No,” he said. “I’ve been wrapping up a deal all day. Other than that snot-nosed lawyer I’ve been dealing with, you two are the first folks I’ve talked to all day.” He paused, and then added, “The past three days, as a matter of fact. I don’t exactly have a parade of folks just dropping in on me.”
    “There was a murder,” Maddy said softly as we approached Nathan’s house.
    He turned in his seat to look at her, and I could see worry in his expression. “What are you talking about?”
    “The owner was killed sometime last night,” she said.
    I pulled up in front of Nathan’s house, and without a word, he unbuckled his seat belt and stumbled out of the car.
    Opening my own door, I called out, “Nathan, are you okay?”
    He waved a hand in the air toward me, and as I saw