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“Thanks,” Tate said. “Lead the way.”
“Will do, and you can sign the rental agreement inside.” He went in ahead of them, stopping at the kitchen island to spread out the papers. “I crossed out the monthly agreement part, and we’ll just take it a day at a time until you don’t need the place anymore. Is that fair?”
“It’s perfect, and thank you,” Tate said, and signed his name.
“Here are the keys. There are three on the ring. The front and back doors open with the same key, and if something doesn’t work, I’m just four trailers down. My number’s on the lease, so either give me a call or come knock on the door. I turned the refrigerator on, so it will already be cold, and there are some dishes and a few pots and pans. I brought in some towels and washcloths for y’all, and there’s some laundry soap on a shelf in the utility room. There are sheets on the beds and extra blankets in the linen closet. I try to keep the place move-in ready, but if you need anything, just let me know.”
He started out, then stopped and held the door open for Wade and Cameron, who were carrying their things inside.
Wade eyed the interior as if he expected ghosts to pop out of the walls at any minute, then gave Jonesy a cautious look.
“Is this place really haunted?” he asked.
Jonesy frowned. He wasn’t happy that the place had garnered such a reputation. It made it hard to keep it rented.
“I’ve never seen anything,” he said, and shut the door behind him as he left.
“Nice kitchen,” Nola said, eyeing the black, up-to-date appliances, the onyx laminate countertops and the silver backsplash.
The floor tiles were black-and-white hexagons, and the cabinets were white. For modular housing, it did have an extra flair.
The adjoining living room was fairly spacious, and the hardwood flooring was shiny and clean. The furniture was turquoise sectional, and there was a nice-size flat-screen TV. The color palette, an homage to the ’70s, beat the jail cells all to heck.
Nola eyed the small utility area where the washer and dryer were situated and was glad she would have a place to wash her bloody clothes, then wandered down the hall, checking out the three bedrooms.
“This one will be yours,” Tate said as he came up behind her.
“But it’s the largest. You should give it to Wade and Cameron.”
“No, because it’s at the farthest end of the house, and for anyone to get to you, they have to come past all of us.”
It was a startling way to think, and then she realized it was the only way any of these men would think. Their focus would always be on safety and accessibility, and how easy it would be to deter the bad guys.
“I didn’t think about that,” she said.
He gave her shaggy braid a soft tug.
“That’s why you have us. And while I’m thinking about it, if you’ll find a hairbrush, I’ll fix this braid for you.”
She didn’t hesitate. “I won’t say no. Give me a second to find it.”
“All the stuff is in the living room,” Cameron said. “We’re heading to the gym to talk to Laura.”
Tate nodded, then took two of the keys off the key ring and handed them over. He took out a couple of the breakfast sandwiches and handed the sack to Wade. “Get some groceries on your way home.”
They locked the door behind them as they left.
Tate began going through the house, checking windows to see if they were locked, checking the back door and the amount of shrubbery nearby, making sure there weren’t any places that would be advantageous for someone to hide in.
“Found it!” Nola called, and then winced as she bumped her stitches. “Oh, my Lord, that hurts,” she said, cupping the bandages over the wound.
“I’m so sorry,” Tate said, and grabbed a chair from the dining room set and turned it around. “Sit here and eat while I take down your hair.”
She peeled the paper back from the sausage-and-egg biscuit and took a bite, while Tate pulled the hair band off the end of her braid and then began undoing it, combing his fingers through its length until her hair hung loose.
“Tell me if I pull,” he said.
Nola took another bite as he began brushing her hair.
