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“Your intruder,” Sawyer said with some amusement, “is a goat.”
I frowned. “How did it get into the house?”
“Good question. I’ll take him downstairs and try to find out while you…” He looked me up and down and I realized I was wearing only a thin nightgown.
“Right,” I said, then closed the door. I changed quickly into jeans and T-shirt, then pulled on sneakers and hurried downstairs. The kitchen had been ransacked. The refrigerator door stood open. Broken eggs and other food lay on the floor. Jars and baskets had been pulled off counters, chairs overturned. Sawyer was repairing the narrow door leading from the outside into the kitchen.
“He must’ve kicked in the lower panels,” Sawyer said. “I added some reinforcement so it won’t happen again. It’s not pretty, but it’s secure.”
“Thank you,” I murmured. “Where did the goat come from?”
“He belongs here. He must’ve gotten loose and just now found his way back.”
I wet my lips. “You seem to know a lot about this place.”
He shrugged. “When I was a teenager, I mowed the grass for the owners.”
“That was Charles and Sophia?”
“You’ve been doing your homework. Yes, they lived here then.”
“And Rose?”
Sawyer’s expression darkened. “Yes. She lived here with her parents until they died.”
“What happened to them?”
“Murder, suicide.”
“I thought it was a car accident.”
“They were in a car when it happened. Rose was in the back seat.”
I winced. “That’s awful.”
He nodded. “Rose went to live with relatives in another state.”
“But she came back?”
“About a year ago.”
“How did she die? I know it was recent. Her headstone was delivered a couple of days ago.”
“We’re not sure,” he said. “Suspected suicide… overdose.”
I swallowed hard. “Where did it happen?”
“She was found in the graveyard.”
“Found?”
He shifted from foot to foot. “I found her.”
I gasped. “How terrible for you.”
“Anything else you want to know?” he asked sharply.
I blinked.
