Breakin in, p.1
Breakin' In, page 1
BREAKIN’ IN
REAL ESTATE RESCUE COZY MYSTERIES, BOOK 6
PATTI BENNING
SUMMER PRESCOTT BOOKS PUBLISHING
Copyright 2023 Summer Prescott Books
All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication nor any of the information herein may be quoted from, nor reproduced, in any form, including but not limited to: printing, scanning, photocopying, or any other printed, digital, or audio formats, without prior express written consent of the copyright holder.
**This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to persons, living or dead, places of business, or situations past or present, is completely unintentional.
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CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Epilogue
Also by Patti Benning
Author’s Note
Contact Summer Prescott Books Publishing
CHAPTER ONE
A rumble of thunder made the old windowpanes in Flora Abner’s living room shake. She turned so she could look out the window behind the couch she was sitting on in time to see the dark, cloudy sky outside light up with a lightning strike. The white rocks of her driveway were slick with rain, and the branches of the trees across the road were waving in the wind.
It was the perfect night for staying in and eating dinner in front of her TV.
The oven beeped, signaling to Flora that her frozen pizza was done cooking. She paused to run her hand along her cat’s back, combing her fingers through the Persian’s fluffy white fur.
“Don’t worry, Amaretto. It’s just a storm. It won’t hurt you.”
Her cat had never been a fan of thunderstorms, but it seemed to have gotten worse since they moved to Kentucky. The storms seemed much closer here, in her old country farmhouse, than they had in the middle of Chicago.
The cat watched, unblinking, as Flora stood up and went into the kitchen, snatching her cell phone off of the coffee table on the way. She cracked the oven open to eye her chicken and artichoke pizza, and determined it needed another couple of minutes, so she took a seat at the kitchen table, her eyes finding the window above the sink.
Despite her words to Amaretto, it was a bad storm. The trees lining her property were bending and swaying, and she was certain she would find a lot of broken limbs and branches in her yard come tomorrow. She was glad that she and Grady had finished repairing the small storage shed behind the house a few weeks ago, because if they hadn’t, this storm may have been its death-knell.
Having a leak-free roof was a relief too. She would never forget the stress of watching water drip down from the upstairs ceiling whenever it rained, like it had early this spring when she first moved to Warbler. The house really had come a long way since she bought it, though it still had a long way to go before she could sell it for the profit she needed to both pay her aunt back the loan that had let Flora get this new start on her life, and to purchase her next project house.
Another rumble of thunder made Flora feel like her bones were vibrating, and the lights in the kitchen flickered. She held her breath, but they stayed on. It was one thing to curl up on the couch with some pizza and a movie while the storm raged outside — it would be another matter entirely if she was stuck here all night with no power.
She got up to check the pizza again and saw the golden-brown color of the cheese along the crust that told her it was done. She took it out with a pair of oven mitts and set it on the stove to cool while she turned off the oven and set a large cutting board and a pizza cutter on the counter.
Her phone started ringing, a cheerful, bright sound that made her jump. It was nearly nine on a weekday night, and almost everyone she knew would text before they called unless it was urgent, which meant either it was a family emergency, or the call was from Grady — the one person she knew who didn’t have a cell phone and instead made do with only a landline phone.
She smiled when she picked up her phone and saw his name on the screen. After answering the call, she set it on speaker and put the phone on the counter while she got a plate and a glass out of the cupboard.
“Hey,” she said. “Crazy storm, huh?”
“Yeah, it’s gonna be a bad one,” Grady’s familiar voice said. “You doin’ all right? The shed’s holding up?”
She paused in folding a napkin. “Why? Do you think it won’t hold up? Oh my goodness, was all of our work for nothing?”
He chuckled. “It should be fine. I’m just checking in.”
She glanced out the window above the sink again. From this angle, she could see the shed. “It looks like it’s doing fine.” She hesitated. “I feel a little bad about kicking that raccoon out now, though. All of the wild animals have to be miserable tonight.”
“The raccoon will be fine,” he told her, sounding amused. “Let me know if you need anything, all right? The power might go out, and some of the trees you’ve got on your land look like they might not hold up so well.”
Flora grinned as she started cutting the pizza. “Aww. You’re worried about me.”
He scoffed, and she knew him well enough to tell he was embarrassed. “Just making sure you’ll be okay, since you’re a city girl and all.”
“I appreciate it, Grady,” she said sincerely. “I’d invite you over to join me for pizza and a movie, but…” She looked outside again as wind drove the rain against the kitchen window. “Something tells me it isn’t safe to drive.”
“I knew someone who was killed by a tree limb falling on his car while he was driving during a storm like this,” Grady said. Flora shuddered.
“Yeah, definitely not safe. If I lose power or something, I’ll give you a call, though. My phone is almost fully charged, so it should be fine until morning. You stay safe too.”
“I will,” he promised. “See ya, Flora.”
She said her goodbyes and ended the call before piling a few slices of pizza on her plate. After filling her glass with water, she tucked her phone into her back packet and carried her plate and glass back into the living room, where Amaretto was still huddled on the couch.
“I hate that you look so scared,” Flora told the cat as she sat down. “Do you want a piece of chicken? Look, it’s still warm. Fresh out of the oven. It’s even got a little bit of cheese on it.”
She plucked a piece of chicken off the pizza, and as she tried to tempt her frightened cat into eating it, she thought about Grady. Their relationship was changing… slowly. They had gone out on one date so far, and both of them had been a little awkward during it, but after hugging her goodbye at the end of it, Grady had asked her out on another one and she had agreed, though they hadn’t arranged anything yet.
A side effect was that all of their other interactions since had held that same edge of awkwardness and uncertainty. Flora hoped it would go away soon, because she missed how easy things had been between the two of them before.
A clap of thunder and flash of lightning happened at almost the same instant, and Amaretto bolted from where she had been sniffing the piece of chicken in Flora’s hand. The cat vanished into Flora’s bedroom, the small room right off the living room that she had never quite moved away from sleeping in, and presumably hid under her bed. Flora sat back with a sigh, leaving the piece of chicken on her napkin while she took her first bite of pizza. She didn’t know how to help Amaretto, and decided to let the cat hide for now. With luck, the storm would pass them over quickly.
As she chewed her pizza, which was actually pretty good considering that it was one of the cheaper frozen ones, she hit play on the TV remote and the movie she was watching started back up. It was an old slasher flick, which was perfect for a night like this. Pizza, a horror movie, a storm raging outside… sure, she might have to resort to asking her neighbor, Natalie, to give her the numbers of the two young men who did her yard work to help her clean up her yard when it was over, but it made for the perfect cozy evening at home.
A clap of thunder so loud it rattled her plate made her jump, and the room illuminated with a flash of lightning that followed right on its tail. The TV shut off without her touching the remote, and the house fell silent and dark. Slowly, Flora reached for the lamp on the side table beside the couch, but when she toggled the switch, it remained dark.
“Shoot,” she muttered. She waited for a few seconds, but the power didn’t miraculously return. Sighing, she shoved the rest of her first slice of pizza into her mouth and got up to find the flashlight that she kept just inside the basement door.
Ignoring the way the dark basement stairs seemed to stretch infinitely downwards, she snagged the flashlight and shut the basement door firmly before switching it on. Wind howled through the cracks and crevasses of the old house as Flora returned to the living room, the beam of light guiding her way.
“Spooky,” she murmured as the wind gusted and gave an extra loud moan.
The sound of shattering glass came from over her head and she let out a yelp, nearly dropping the flashlight in her surprise. It must have been an upstairs window b
She hurried upstairs, the flashlight’s beam bumping and bobbing as she ran. She checked the empty room first, but it was just as it had been the last time she peeked inside. With a feeling of dread, she hurried into the guest room and stopped short.
The gusting wind had blown a broken branch right into the window. Broken glass and a torrent of rain poured across the wooden floors she had just recently refinished and shards of glass sparkled on the bedspread of the brand-new bed that had arrived only a week ago. The branch lay half through the window, and a new gust of wind sent one of the wet leaves across the room to splat right on Flora’s face.
She stared at the mess in shock. Forget the movie downstairs — this was the most horrifying thing she had seen all night.
CHAPTER TWO
Flora glowered at the broken glass and water that covered the floor in the guest bedroom, her arms crossed over her chest. It was morning now, and the storm had broken hours ago. A tarp rustled in the breeze in place of the broken glass. She had attached it — sloppily — to the window frame the night before in an effort to keep the water damage to a minimum, but she wasn’t sure if it had done much good. The room was a mess.
To make matters worse, it wasn’t the only place in the house water had gotten in. When she woke up an hour ago, her first surprise had been a pleasant one — the power was back on. It went downhill after that when she discovered that the security camera at her front door must have been fried when the power surged, because it wasn’t working. Then, while she was filling the coffee pot with water for her morning caffeine, she noticed water on the kitchen windowsill.
That led to a discovery that roughly a third of the windows in her house were leaking at least some amount of water, and since all of the house’s windows were older than she was, she knew it was only a matter of time until the rest of them started leaking too.
She was going to have to bite the bullet and get the windows replaced. Professionally. There was a lot that she was willing to do herself, but replacing every window in the house was a little bit above her skill level, and even with Grady’s help, it would take them a long time. Too long, when it was starting to get chillier outside and her aunt was going to be coming to stay for Thanksgiving in just a couple of months.
Sighing, Flora started pushing the shards of glass into a pile with a mop. She got the room cleaned up enough that neither she nor Amaretto would cut their feet accidentally if they came in here, then stepped out into the hallway, shutting the door firmly behind her. The last thing she needed was for her cat to escape through the broken window on top of everything else.
After that, she decided to kill two birds with one stone and go over to visit her elderly neighbors, Beth and Tim York. She wanted to check on them after the storm, but she also wanted a recommendation for which company to hire to replace her windows, and who better to ask than a woman who has lived in Warbler her entire life?
She checked on Amaretto, who was happily licking her bowl clean in the kitchen. The cat’s fear from the night before seemed to have vanished with the morning sun.
“Once I get this sorted out, we’ll try the harness again,” Flora promised. She had been trying to harness train the cat so she could go outside, and it was going about as well as she could hope. Amaretto let her put the harness on without complaint now, but as soon as there was any tension on the leash, the cat went boneless and refused to move until Flora took it off.
They would get there, one day. She was sure of it.
She put her shoes on, grabbed her purse, and slipped her phone into her back pocket, then stepped outside. She debated on whether to take her truck over to Beth’s or walk there, but the dirt road was a muddy mess, so she decided to drive.
By the time Flora parked in her neighbor’s driveway — the term was used generously, since Beth lived nearly a quarter of a mile down the road — the older woman was standing on her front porch and waving cheerily in greeting.
Flora waved back as she got out of the truck. “Did you see me driving over?” she asked as she approached the front porch.
“I thought you might be Nolan,” Beth replied. “But I’m glad to see you too! How did you fare in the storm last night? It was a bad one.”
Flora had no idea who Nolan was, but Beth’s question reminded her of one of her reasons for coming over, so she let her curiosity go and said, “Well, we survived, but one of the upstairs windows didn’t. The storm sent a branch right through it, and I found out that some of my other windows have started leaking. I think I need to replace them all — half of them don’t even match, and they’re all old. Do you know of any good window companies in the area?”
“I’ll give you the number for the company who did our windows a few years ago,” Beth said. She waved Flora closer. “Come on in, dear. I’ll need a few minutes to find the number. You can look at our windows while I’m at it, to see what you think of the work. We were very pleased, I can tell you that. Leave the door open, will you? I need to keep an ear out for Nolan. Sammy’s on his cable out back, so you don’t have to worry about him getting out.”
Flora worked through the deluge of information as she followed Beth into the house, leaving the door open behind her as instructed. Sammy was Beth’s droopy Basset hound, and one of the laziest dogs Flora had ever met. It was hard to imagine him having the energy to actually run away if the opportunity presented itself, but she supposed he could be full of surprises.
“Who’s Nolan?” Flora asked as she trailed Beth into the kitchen. “I don’t think I’ve met him.”
“Oh, I haven’t told you? The grocery store started offering a grocery delivery service a couple of weeks ago. Senior citizens only have to pay a tip on top of the price of the goods. It’s such a wonderful innovation. I don’t have to wait until the bus comes on the weekends to go shopping now. Nolan is the young man who delivers out here. He’s such a sweetheart. You should meet him — he’s never mentioned a girlfriend.” Beth winked at her, and Flora wrinkled her nose.
“No matchmaking, please,” she said as Beth started rifling through her address book. “Changing the topic — how did you two hold up during the storm? Do you need any help picking up branches?”
“Oh, we managed well enough. You’re such a kind girl, but I think I’ll have those two boys who have been doing yard work for Natalie help me out. I’m sure they could use the money, and I know you’re going to be busy with your own yard. Speaking of, would you mind stopping by her house before you go home? I made a lovely flower arrangement for her, to brighten her place up. I’d take it over myself, but with the roads like they are, I’m worried I’d slip and fall.”
“Sure, I can drop it off,” Flora said. Natalie wasn’t a fan of hers, but they could be civil when they had to be.
“Thanks, dear. Ah, here’s the number. Let me just copy it over for you…”
Beth wrote the number down on an index card and handed it over to Flora, who thanked her as she took it. The sound of tires on gravel caught their attention.
“That must be Nolan. Here, I’ll get those flowers for you.”
Beth hurried into the living room and handed Flora a vase with an arrangement of the last of the summer’s flowers in it just as someone knocked on the frame of the open door. A man a few years younger than Flora poked his head into the house.
“Ms. York? I have your delivery.”
“Nolan, I’m glad you made it. I’ll help you bring the bags in,” Beth said. Flora slipped out the door past him with a polite nod, hoping to get away before the older woman remembered her matchmaking dreams. She put the flowers on the floor of the passenger side of the truck carefully, then walked around to the driver’s side, pausing to wave goodbye to Beth. Nolan had parked his van beside the truck, giving her space to get out. He came around the back of the van, his arms loaded down with bags of groceries, as they were saying goodbye.
