“Well, I wouldn’t say that exactly,” Kinsley responded.
Peyton’s stomach sank as she stared down the dark wooden staircase. All morning she’d fought to keep her expressions neutral, but seeing that poor murdered woman brought back her own feelings of grief about Adam’s passing.
“What would you say?” Asher asked Kinsley.
“I’d say that she seems like a very nice woman who has recently gone through a heartbreak. And don’t ask me what kind of heartbreak. I don’t know. What I do know is that today was like watching Mary Poppins discover a murder at her shop.”
“All right,” Asher drawled. “If you think of anything else, call.”
“You know I will,” Kinsley said.
There was rustling indicating they both rose from the couch before Asher asked, a little softer this time, “And you? Are you all right?”
“Yeah, I’m okay now, thanks,” Kinsley answered.
That’s when Peyton continued to move down the stairs. Better to interrupt now than to have them find her standing on the staircase like an idiot.
When she reentered the modest-sized living room, Kinsley had more color to her face. Asher stood near the fireplace with the white mantel. “All done?” she asked Asher.
He nodded, folding closed his notepad and placing it in his back pocket. “Yeah. We’re good for now. I’ll reach out if any other questions come up.”
“Okay, great,” Peyton said. “If there’s anything I can do to help, just let me know.”
Asher inclined his head and smiled before heading for the door. He seemed nice, really maybe the softest one out of the three guys.
Kinsley followed him, and after their goodbyes, she shut the door and locked it. When Kinsley turned around, she was frowning. “I guess you heard all that?”
“The last bit, yeah.” Peyton nodded.
“Thought so.” Kinsley smiled gently, dropping her head back against the door. “So, listen, I had to answer his question honestly for the investigation and all, but your life before this one isn’t anything we need to talk about if you don’t want to. You know that, right?”
“I do now.” Peyton smiled back. God, she liked Kinsley. This is what she wanted back in Seattle. To live happily in the moment. Being a lonely widow who lost everything because of a tragic car accident was something she left behind. This was her fresh start, and she was taking it.
“All right, so that awfulness is over,” said Kinsley, pushing away from the door. “I’ll grab us some glasses and a bottle of wine. We deserve it. Wanna go find us something mind-numbing to watch on Netflix?”
“On it.” Peyton turned to do just that, when a picture on the table near the bay window caught her eye. Boone was in his teens in this photograph, obviously on the football field. Damn, he was hot back then too. Something in his eyes was different, though. They looked a little warmer in the picture. Less jaded, maybe. Hell, hers probably looked just as jaded now.
“He was—”
Peyton screamed and jumped a foot off the floor, clutching at her chest. “Oh, my God, don’t do that, Kinsley.”
Kinsley burst out laughing, holding two glasses and a bottle of chardonnay. “Sorry. My bad. I thought you heard me come in. I guess we’ll be on edge for a couple days.”
Peyton nodded, pressing her hands to her racing heart. “No horror flicks for a while.”
Kinsley continued to laugh as she sidled up next to Peyton. “Before I almost gave you a heart attack, I was going to say that Boone could have gone into the NFL if he’d wanted, but he followed our father into law enforcement instead.”
“Really?”
“Yup.” Kinsley pointed to another frame on the table. “Around here, law enforcement is a way of life. My dad’s a cop. His dad was a cop. And since we lived here at my grandparents’ house, Boone lived and breathed police life.”
Peyton glanced around, reassessing. “Oh, this is your grandparents’ house?” Maybe that explained the choice of flowered wallpaper instead of paint, and the older-style furnishings. Not that the house and design weren’t cute; they just weren’t Kinsley.
“The house has been in the family for years,” Kinsley explained, moving farther into the living room. “When Grandpa passed a few years ago, Dad moved out and gave this house to Boone and me.” She sat down on the dark gray couch, placing the bottle and glasses on the table. “Boone was living in New York City then, but he moved back a couple years ago. He stayed with me for a year and then moved out. So now this beauty is all mine.”
“Lucky you; it’s so charming.”
“And don’t I know it.” Kinsley uncorked the wine. “It needs new paint, new furniture, but it’s also my grandparents, so I have a hard time changing any of it.”