Page 66 of The Friendship Pact

“Your dad mentioned as much. My daughter has always put others first. Right now, she needs to focus on her needs and concentrate on her business.”

“I agree.”

“My wife seems to think Kate’s not being honest about her feelings toward you.”

Nick suppressed a grin. Like any good cop, Kordell could read people; he must have known instantly how Nick felt about Kate. He might still change her mind, hoping to prove they weren’t just friends. What they needed was a place to talk privately.

“Tell me, Nick, are you in love with my daughter?”

Love. The one word Nick avoided at all costs. Even if he was in love with Kate, it wouldn’t be Kordell who was the first to know.

He was saved from answering when the driver ahead of him slid off the road and into the ditch. He flipped on his lights and pulled over. What had started as a few flakes of falling snow was now coming down in a fury. The roads were slick from the accumulation and freezing temperatures.

After making sure the driver, a college student on her way home for the holidays, was safe and hadn’t experienced a medical emergency, Nick called for a tow truck. He settled the young woman into the back seat of his vehicle to stay warm. The snowplows had been sent out and were now salting the roads. If the wind kicked up any more, they’d be in for a blizzard.

The student left with the tow truck driver, and Nick checked in with Meg. While they were on the phone together, a call came in for a welfare check. Nick and Kordell, close to the address, headed toward the home of the town recluse.

“Tell me about the woman we are checking on,” Kordell said.

Thankfully, he hadn’t asked again about Kate.

“May Hanson is one of a kind. She’s a hermit, has her groceries delivered, doesn’t drive. Her daughter, Tory, graduated with my brother Cole. She left after high school and hasn’t been back. I suspect the daughter sends money, because May’s not on welfare. We’ve all looked out for her.”

Nick pulled off the highway and into the long gravel driveway. Set back from the road, the house was surrounded by a grove of pine trees. The driveway was plowed. He suspected Roman Reynolds had plowed after the last snowfall.

“This is a beautiful piece of land,” Kordell commented, slipping on his gloves as the house came into view.

Nick didn’t respond; a worry niggled at him as he parked by the front steps. He left his rig running as they approached the front door of the old farmhouse. The snow blanketed most of the junk in the yard.

A newspaper lay on the porch. Nick knocked on the heavy wood door and called out, “May, it’s Sheriff Nick Reid, ma’am.”

No response. Usually when he stopped by to check on her, he would hear rustling noises as she made her way to the door.

Kordell jiggled the knob. “It’s unlocked.”

Nick pushed the door open, but it only opened a few inches. He grimaced.

“Can you see anything, Sheriff?” Kordell asked.

“Nothing. Help me push.”

After pushing the door open enough to squeeze through the doorway, Kordell whistled. “She’s a hoarder?”

Nick nodded. “Yes. I’m sure you’ve seen some in your time.”

“I have. This isn’t the worst I’ve seen.”

“May, are you here? May Hanson! It’s the DCF police department,” Nick called out. He strained to hear something. Anything.

Kordell gestured toward piles of newspapers lining a hallway of sorts. “Let’s split up. I’ll go this way.”

“That will lead to the kitchen. I’ll head upstairs to the bedrooms,” Nick said.

He paused at the steps and glanced at the thermostat. Fifty-eight degrees. He shuddered. He suspected the outcome would be grim. Placing one foot on the bottom step, he pushed a few boxes aside. With room for nothing more than his boot on each step, he walked carefully up the stairs. Dread filled him when the smell hit him. He hated this part of his job.

He reached the first door on the right and found May peacefully laid out on the top of the bed in a black dress. He held a finger under his nose and breathed through his mouth. Had it been summer, the odor would have been worse. He stepped from the room. He didn’t need to check for a pulse. “She’s up here,” he called.

Kordell sprinted up the stairs, expertly avoiding the debris.