exterminatorâs giant tent still billowed around it like a big, putty-colored blob.
Watching the thing undulate from within, Julie didnât immediately notice Suzanne Hillbrand, of Hillbrand Real Estate. Her Mercedes was parked nearby.
Wearing high heels, a pencil skirt and very big hair, Suzanne was examining the spiffy new For Sale sign out by the curb.
The shock of seeing that sign struck Julie like a slap across the face. She cranked the Caddie into Park and got out, slamming the door hard behind her.
âWell,â Suzanne trilled, beaming, â hello, Julie Remington!â
Suzanneâs outgoing personality wasnât an affectation designed to sell properties; sheâd always been that way. Even in kindergarten. The big hair only went back as far as high school, though.
âHello, Suzanne,â Julie responded, not smiling. She indicated the sign with a motion of one hand. âAre you sure this isnât a mistake?â
âWhy, of course Iâm sure, darlinâ!â Suzanne replied, with exhausting ebullience, shading her perfectly made-up eyes with one perfectly manicured hand. âIt isnât as if thereâs a real estate boom on here in Blue River, after all. Iâve got this cottage and the old Arnette farm on the books, and thatâs it.â
The flash of adrenaline-fueled annoyance that had propelled Julie from behind the wheel of her Cadillac dissipated in an instant. She bit down on her lower lip.
âI take it Louise didnât tell you she was putting the place on the market?â Suzanne asked quietly.
âShe might have tried,â Julie admitted, picturing her very efficient and quite elderly landlady. âIâm not sure she has my cell number, and I keep forgetting to check my voice mail.â
Suzanneâs smile came back full force. âWe all know you and Libby and Paige came into some money a while back,â she said. âThings like that get around, of course. Well, hereâs the perfect investment for you. Your very own cottage. Think how easy it would be. You wouldnât even have to pack up and move!â
In spite of herself, Julie smiled. Sheâd always liked Suzanne, and the womanâs enthusiasm was catching. Plus, sheâd often dreamed of buying the cottageâback when she didnât have the means, especially.
âWhatâs the asking price?â
Suzanne named a figure that would nearly wipe out Julieâs considerable nest egg.
So much for enthusiasm.
âNo way,â Julie said, backing up a step.
Suzanne stayed happy. âLouise is firm on the price,â she said. âI told her she wouldnât get that much, considering the state the marketâs in right now, but sheâs not about to budge. The place is paid for, and she doesnât need the money. All that works in your favor, of course, because youâll probably have all kinds of time before it actually sellsâto find somewhere else to live, I mean.â
All kinds of time to find somewhere else to live.
Oh, right.
There werenât a lot of housing options in towns the size of Blue River.
Letâs see. She could move in with Paige, who was in the process of renovating the small house theyâd all grown up in, rent by the week at the seedy Amble On Inn on the edge of town, or make an offer on the Arnette farm, which was almost as much of an eyesore as the Wilkesâs junkyard.
A fixer-upper, Suzanne would call it.
In Julieâs opinion, the only hope of making that old dump look better was a bulldozer.
For the time being, sheâd have to stay on at the Silver Spur.
Darn.
Remembering the time, Julie checked her watch and turned to head back to her car. Calvin was in another mood, and sheâd had to cajole him into getting out of bed, eating his breakfast, finding his backpack.
By the time sheâd dropped him off at Libbyâs, so hecould ride to school with the twins, Julie had
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