35
Zeke heard the truck rattling up the dirt driveway before he actually saw it. The snowfall from the night before had mostly melted by now, and the tires of the truck were spraying stones from side to side as they crunched over the path through the woods.
The old caretaker watched carefully as the truck came into view and parked at the far end of the lot. Two young men stepped out. One was tall and blond and rather handsome; the other was shorter, darker, and stout. Without saying a word to each other, the men made their way up toward the house.
“Good mornin’,” Zeke shouted, suddenly emerging from the shadows.
The men appeared to be slightly startled. They turned around to look at him. The shorter one seemed to sway just a little bit as he looked at Zeke, and his eyes were red.
“Good morning,” the taller man said.
“May I help you?” Zeke asked. “I’m the caretaker here.”
“We’re here to see Annabel Wish,” the man told him. “I’m Chad Appleby and this is Paul Stueckel.”
“I see,” Zeke said. “You’re the contractors, I take it.”
“Yes, sir, we are.”
Zeke smiled with his crooked teeth. “Is she askin’ you to do a big job?”
“I wouldn’t know that yet,” Chad told him. “I haven’t seen what she wants to do.”
“Say she asks you to take down a few walls and restore a fireplace and chimney,” Zeke said. “How much would that cost her?”
“I’m not sure,” Chad said, seeming to grow a little leery of talking to him. He kept glancing up toward the house. “I’d have to see the actual work it entailed, and the condition of the house. . . .”
“How about if I told you,” Zeke asked, drawing in closer to the men and speaking in a conspiratorial whisper, “that whatever you quote Miz Wish to do the job she’s asking, Mrs. Devlin will pay you that plus half to not do the job?”
The men looked at him strangely.
“Mrs. Devlin is sort of sentimentally attached to the house as it stands right now,” Zeke explained.
Chad frowned. “Well, from what Ms. Wish told me on the phone, it’s she and her husband who are now the owners.”
“Paperwork hasn’t been signed yet,” Zeke told him.
“But if it’s going to be,” Chad replied, “then I really ought to speak with the woman who asked me to come out here and give her an estimate.”
“Mrs. Devlin will pay you double whatever you quote to leave the house alone,” Zeke said, his voice hard as he upped the offer.
The two men exchanged looks.
“I think I need to speak with Ms. Wish,” Chad said finally, heading off toward the house. His zoned-outlooking friend followed.
“Remember what I’ve offered you,” Zeke called after him. “But the offer’s no good if you tell Miz Wish about it.”
The men didn’t look back. They just continued on toward the house.