Free Key to Love by Judy Ann Davis Page B

ceased to comfort Lucas. Cars were the one thing he knew, the one thing that gave him security.
    “It’s going to be easier to get guardianship of Todd if you can prove stability by having a home for him,” Elise said, interrupting his thoughts.
    He shoved his hand into his back pocket and looked over the battered parking lot. He would have to get it resurfaced. One more thing to do. “Yeah, I know. I was hoping to get my grandmother’s cottage in order. Hell, it’s a disaster. Mike stashed a lot of his belongings there when he shut down his house in New Castle and moved into an apartment here. I piled the remainder of his things in the shed out back.”
    “Maybe there’s something lying around that might help us get a handle on where his will is located, or where the money disappeared.”
    He shook his head. “If there is, I couldn’t find it.”
    “We should go back to the farm, so I can change into jeans,” she suggested, “and we’ll take a run up.”
    Lucas looked at his watch and rubbed his temple. Ever since Elise had stepped off the plane, he felt as if his life was a video tape playing in fast forward. She moved through life filling each minute with purpose and motion, like a spinning top. “Fritz is coming in a few hours. Why don’t we take a break?”
    “No time.” She headed toward the Pontiac. “I’ll meet you back at the farm. I’ll change clothes, and we’ll go together. A few hours is better than none, and without electricity, we need daylight, right?”
    He nodded and moved toward the truck, pausing until she was safe inside the car and had it running. She peeled out of the lot like a high-powered jet taking flight. He grimaced as the tires squealed against the pavement, laying rubber. He’d have to ask Fritz what it would take to get her out of overdrive. He’d also have to check where he could lay his hands on a new set of tires. The car would need them before it was shipped to Atlanta.
    ****
    The cottage was quaint and picturesque, straight from a storybook, Elise decided, the moment they parked the car in driveway. It was larger than she recalled. The outside was fashioned of mortar and gray fieldstone. A rock garden, now growing wild, but blooming with spring flowers of daffodils and grape hyacinths, bordered both sides of a winding, yellow brick sidewalk leading to the faded blue front door. A small white garage on one side allowed access to it from the side as well. Beside the garage, Elise saw a new doghouse had been built. It must have been Mike’s handiwork. She couldn’t imagine Lucas having time to construct a doghouse, and for what purpose?
    Lucas motioned her around to the back of the house and up a flagstone walk. He pushed open the back entrance door leading directly into the kitchen.
    Elise stepped inside. Immediately her eyes were drawn to the hand built, high cupboards climbing to the ceiling and the hewn beams above that lent structural support. Dusty gingham curtains, once a bright green but now mottled and faded in sections from the sun, hung limply from the leaded glass windows. An old wooden table with white chairs, nicked and yellowed, sat in the corner of the room.
    “Jeez, I wonder how old this place is? It looks like mid-eighteenth century construction. It’s exquisite. Absolutely exquisite.”
    “I didn’t think so when I was growing up,” Lucas said bluntly. “Everyone else had the most modern conveniences, dishwashers, fancy televisions, you name it. Your house seemed like a temple of the gods compared to this.”
    She could hear a tinge of sadness in his voice. She remembered when he was growing up he had never invited anyone to his grandmother’s house, except Fritz on rare occasions. He had been too embarrassed to let anyone see he had so little.
    She followed him to two rooms at the back of the kitchen. The smaller one held laundry appliances and looked like it had once been a sewing room. The other, a huge walk-in pantry with wooden counters