Free Finding Harmony (Katie & Annalise Book 3) by Pamela Fagan Hutchins

of the Dead, and that old guy who saying Annalise built on a graveyard. I got some information for you, from a pretty lady who work in the gov’ment.” The kettle began to whistle and he jumped up to turn off the burner. He returned to his chair with a cup of chamomile tea.
    Nick had told me that Rashidi was working his contacts for information. “Thanks,” I said. “What did she say?”
    “She say the boss man at the Department of Planning and Natural Resources the one over antiquities and such, and he make the rules and do what he like. She say he not got enough to do, and he like to stick he nose in other people business.” He shoveled in the last of the pancakes.
    “Born and raised in the St. Marcos tradition, it sounds like.”
    “Yah, and she say if he hear ’bout old bodies underneath a house he all over it. Last time something like this happened, he haul a continental guy off in handcuffs. But a week later, the boss man show up at work driving a new car, and problem solved. No digging, no jail, no fines. So my advice keep quiet ’bout the skeletons.”
    I hated my continental status in situations like this one. “If there even are any skeletons. But I expected as much. Maybe we’ll never hear a word about them again, but I think your information means ‘plan for the worst.’”
    “Where Nick?” Rashidi asked. He had taken his plate to the sink and rinsed it. Better than family.
    “Interviewing witnesses on that Petro-Mex case. You know, the dead guy we found in our driveway.” I checked my iPhone; it was already 10:45. “I haven’t heard from him since before dawn.”
    I texted Nick quickly: “Rashidi came over to update me on DPNR vis a vis Annalise/graveyard. Can you please check in and let me know your plans?”
    Rashidi, meanwhile, had taken Jess over to the bouncy seat and buckled her in. She immediately kicked and chortled. Her hand shot out and whapped a spinning duck. “Bye, baby doll. Good day, Kovacs family.”
    “You’re off?” I asked.
    “Yah, mon, I head to the university to romance some more beautiful women. I see you later. Good day, Annalise,” he said, patting a stout masonry wall as he exited.
    “Thanks, Rashidi. Have a good one,” I said.
    Later, after Julie and I fed the kids and settled them in for naps, I retreated to the upstairs office and Julie went downstairs to the rooms she and Kurt had moved into six months after we came here from Texas. Their bottom floor apartment opened onto the patio and swimming pool and had a view of the west-end beaches and ocean beyond. The main floor housed the kitchen, master suite, great room, music room, and a guest bedroom, and upstairs Annalise had three bedrooms and a library. One bedroom belonged to Taylor, one was a nursery for the girls, and one we had converted into an office.
    I loved the office. While my computer booted up, I threw open the balcony door to let in the breeze and stood at the railing. The view transported me. I imagined myself looking out over this same vista a hundred and fifty years ago, when the sugar mills and plantations were thriving. I could almost hear the creak of leather harnesses in the distance as horses turned the crushers inside the mills, grinding sugar cane into sugar. The scent of fermenting mangoes floated up from the orchard, making me think about the homemade mango ice cream in the freezer—snack for later. I scanned the road through the thick canopy of trees for my husband’s car. No luck.
    Nick rarely went this long without contacting me. He’d left so early, though, maybe he’d forgotten to charge his phone. I looked down at mine again, and there was a message light. It was from him.
    “Busy. Going well. Home for dinner.”
    Wow, that was super informative. I checked my inner pulse and it appeared I was still mad at Nick. I didn’t want to spend the evening fighting, but the odds weren’t looking good for me to become the bearer of sweetness and light anytime soon.
    In the