Kat followed Harry up the creaking steps to her front door. Kat and Jace had purchased the old Victorian at a tax sale last year. The stairs were just one of many repairs listed on their never-ending to-do list.
While their renovations weren’t on hold, the for sale sign was. Kat and Jace originally planned to fix and flip it for a quick profit, but they had grown attached to the Victorian house. It was one of the oldest houses in their Queen’s Park neighborhood, conveniently located just two blocks from Harry’s.
“Jace? We’re home.” She paused to inhale the restorative aromas of basil, oregano, and tomato.
“In here. Hope you’re hungry.”
Kat followed Jace’s voice into the kitchen. He stood at the stove, stirring the source of the wonderful smell. Kat’s gaze drifted from his muscled arms to his form-fitting black t-shirt. Even in an apron he looked hot.
He winked at her. “Spaghetti?”
“Love some.” She kissed him, wishing she could stay. “You seem happy.”
“I am. My real estate fraud story is running on the front page. Tomorrow’s paper.”
“Hmmm, wonderful. Does that give you rock star status at the Sentinel?” Jace had uncovered a real estate fraud involving dozens of high-end properties on Vancouver’s affluent west side. The ruse used inflated appraisals to flip properties.
“Not quite. But I’m in McCleary’s good books again. He thinks I can get a series out of it.” Jace’s hard-nosed editor was notoriously difficult to please.
“Good news.” Kat glanced over at Harry. He sat at the kitchen table, head slumped forward onto his chest as he snored.
She lowered her voice and told Jace about the bank loan and the never-ending search for the Lincoln. But not about his Alzheimer’s. Not yet. Saying it out loud made it all too real. “Harry’s problems are much worse than I thought.”
“Can’t the bank find out where the money went?”
“No, and I don’t know what to do. It’s obvious Harry can’t manage on his own anymore. First the fire, and now this.” She felt a catch in her throat and turned away, hoping Jace hadn’t noticed. Living alone was becoming a serious safety issue.
He dropped the spoon on the counter and circled his arms around her waist. “He could move in here. We’ve got lots of room.”
“I—I don’t know, Jace. It will be a big change for you.” Kat pulled away from his embrace. Jace didn’t know what he was offering, what he was getting himself into. Overnight he would be plunged into Harry’s paranoid world. A world that worsened with every passing day of dementia. It might be too much for Jace.
“It’s no big deal. We’re at Harry’s place all the time anyways.” Jace tapped the spoon against the rim of the saucepan. “It might even be easier on both of us.”
Kat tiptoed over to the kitchen table to avoid waking Uncle Harry. She detoured around the section of the floor that creaked, but it was no use. Harry jerked awake just as she pulled out her chair. “Sleepy?”
“Now, why would I be sleepy? It’s barely lunchtime.” Harry rose from his seat and shuffled towards the bathroom. “I’m going to freshen up.”
It was actually after six, but Kat didn’t bother to correct him. “I know. I’m already hungry.” Harry had already forgotten his day at court and Kat’s office.
Jace carried over two heaping plates of spaghetti and set them on the table.
“I can’t stay long, Jace. I’m starting on the Edgewater case tonight.”
“Now you’re working nights? Zachary Barron doesn’t waste any time, does he?”
“Guess not.” Kat picked up her fork and twirled some pasta around it. The portion on her plate could feed a small army. “Anyways, it will be good to get a head start and see what this case is all about. Especially while Nathan Barron’s out of town.” She filled him in on the Barrons—Zachary’s suspicions and Edgewater Investments.
Harry emerged from the bathroom. “You’re telling Jace about my bank loan? Geez, the bank’s robbing me blind. Would you believe ten thousand dollars, Jace? Criminals!”
Kat raised her eyebrows at Jace, surprised Harry still remembered. “We were just at the bank. They said Harry took out a loan last month.”
“Really?” Jace glanced at Kat. “What are you buying, Harry? Real estate?”
“I didn’t buy anything. Those crooks forged my signature! You know what? I can’t wait—I’m calling the police.” Harry grabbed the kitchen phone. “What’s the number, Jace?”
“Uh, Harry, why don’t we eat first?” Jace returned to the stove and spooned out another plate of spaghetti. He sat down at the table, opposite Kat and Harry. “We’ll call the police after dinner.”
“Mmmm, this is good, Jace.” Kat hadn’t realized how hungry she was. Harry would forget all about calling the police in a few minutes. But that didn’t solve the problem of who orchestrated the loan. Harry couldn’t visit the bank on his own since he had to be driven. He rarely left the house at all anymore. He never went anywhere alone, except maybe the supermarket or coffee shop. Had he met someone at either of those places?
“I busted a fraud ring, Harry. It’s tomorrow’s top story.” Jace grinned. “They bought houses and faked real estate appraisals to inflate the property values. They took out huge loans against the houses, then took off with the money.”
Kat made a slicing motion across her neck. Loan was a four-letter word.
Jace’s smile vanished and he mouthed sorry. But then he continued nonetheless. “They let the banks foreclose on them. I traced at least two dozen high-end houses on the West Side and exposed them. Until my story, they weren’t even on the cops’ radar.”
“Humph,” Harry said as he twirled pasta around his fork. “You know, I feel a bit sick right now. I think I’ve had enough.”
“Eat, Uncle Harry.” Kat studied her uncle. No wonder he felt sick—he hardly ate anything. His face was drawn and pale; that recent flu was really taking a toll. He needed all the calories he could get.
“All right.”
They ate the rest of the meal in silence. Despite her profession, Kat often felt money was the root of all evil, or most of it, anyways. This was one of those moments.
“I’m just happy to have my story finished.” Jace set down his fork and checked his watch. “Now I can relax. Hey, the hockey game’s on. Want to watch the game, Harry?”
“And watch a bunch of carefree millionaires chase a puck? No thanks.”