“Air conditioning,” Loretta said, following them. “Instead of a cook, let’s buy air conditioning.”
The kid was a wee bit too precocious. “Not sure a place like this can have central. We’ll put a window unit in your room. That should be acceptable use of your money.”
“Yours, too,” Loretta said stubbornly. “And Jax’s. Does the cellar get hot in summer?”
“We’re good,chevrette,” Roark called back.
Evie had never had to worry about other people’s comfort in her aunt’s house. She just kept her shades drawn and turned on the ceiling fan in the evening. But Loretta was used to all the modern conveniences. So was Jax. And the summer promised to be a sweltering one, if today was any example.
“All right, I’ll call someone, see what can be done. But the electric bill is likely to go sky-high.”
“Solar,” Reuben shouted as he aimed for the van.
“More money,” she shouted back, before turning to Loretta. “Let’s head for the shop. You’ll be cooler there while I walk the dogs.”
“Can I visit Iddy, too? She likes help with the kennels. And maybe I should bike out to see if Ariel needs help with her turtle.”
Jax had started living in the servant’s room off the kitchen because he worried about Loretta’s safety. An heiress needed security.
A kid needed to be a kid, and she didn’t want Loretta living in fear.
Evie wrinkled her nose and sought a responsible reply. “You’re good with Mavis and Iddy. If you want to bike anywhere, you need someone with you. What would happen if you got hit by a truck? There’d be no one to call for help.”
Loretta frowned. “What if I have a friend go with me?”
“Tell me what friend and let me know when you go and when you’ll be back.” She hated the words even as they came out of her mouth, but it had to be done. She could remind Loretta about how her parents died, that there were bad people in the world, but Loretta knew that.
Leaving her ward with Mavis at the Psychic Solutions shop, Evie picked up her doggie clients and headed for Witch Hill. Ariel lived on the far side. She debated walking over, but the dogs preferred exploring the pond.
Evie’s new phone rang with another unknown number. She hadn’t given it out for the business, but Mavis had probably passed it around. She should figure out how to do a contact list. Could they be sorted between business and personal?
While she pondered the mysteries of technology, the call went to voice mail. Ha, another challenge. Determined not to be left too far behind in the tech wars, she punched around until the phone started speaking.
“Miss Malcolm, this is Desmond Redfern. We met last night.”
Larraine’s new campaign manager, cool. Evie tuned into the message.
“I’ve had an interesting call from the campaign office of Senator Swenson—from California? He mentioned Mr. Jackson as a friend of his and wanted to touch base to see if we need anything. I am not familiar with Mr. Jackson, but I believe he’s a friend of yours?”
Evie replayed the message, uncertain she’d heard right. Jax? Senator Swenson? Ah—no?
But Swenson had been a client of S&S and a friend of Jax’sfather—fishing expedition? Had Clancy passed on that information? That made no sense. She really did have a suspicious mind and shouldn’t be looking gift horses in the mouth...
Jax had put his contact number in her list, along with Loretta’s and a few others. She painstakingly saved Mr. Redfern’s, then called Jax.
“Yup.” He sounded absentminded and irritated.
“Someone from Swenson’s campaign office called Miss Ward and offered their aid because they knowMr. Jackson. Want to work that out?”
She tried to imagine how he looked as he pondered that, but she didn’t even know where he was.
“I have never met a Swenson in my life,” he said slowly, as if thinking aloud. “They’re still S&S clients but not Stephen’s. S&S would never give out my number, but I suppose someone there may have mentioned... Nope. I have no connection to Miss Ward’s campaign. Why in heck would a California senator have any interest in a small-town South Carolina mayoral campaign anyway?”
“More fishing for information,” Evie concluded. “If the call was from California, it may have been the same person who called me. I have a website with Afterthought on it as my address. If they pulled a few strings, I can be found. They may have connected me to you. I don’t like it.”
“Neither do I. See if the guys can trace that call. At least whoever it is doesn’t know where we are precisely.”
But whoever wanted to find them was getting ugly close. “Have you found anything in those contracts that might have someone hunting you down?”