He didn’t want to talk about murder in front of Loretta. The kid had had enough of that.
“Word of mouth is all I got. If we’d just make enough money to run an ad in the county newspaper—we’d probably still get pest control calls. Maybe it’s a sign from the universe.” Evie glumly checked the TV over his shoulder again. “Where is that rally being held?”
“Charleston,” Loretta answered. “It’s on the banner. I wanna see if they have any we can go to.” She pulled out her phone and began typing.
“Charleston, huh.” Jax checked the TV again. He didn’t recognize the stocky guy in the gray suit, but if that was Ted Swenson—he was here on the east coast, only an hour’s drive from Clancy and Afterthought. So were all the other little Swensons from the looks of it. He turned around and caught Evie’s eye.
She nodded, her thoughts following his. “No Donna or Marge, I’m betting. So maybe the Pendleton case and Clancy are different?”
“We have nothing on anyone,” he reminded her. “For all we know, one of Pendleton’s clients or someone he sued took a dislike to him. And if Clancy wasn’t a suicide, he didn’t sound as if he was a well-liked fellow.” And there they were, talking murder in front of Loretta again.
“Mavis says Hank from the hardware store filed for mayor.” Loretta spoke through a mouthful of fries. “He’s on the council, isn’t he?”
“Finish chewing before you spit fries all over the table,” Evie chided. “Hank is too old and cantankerous to run for mayor. He’s just spiting Miss Ward.”
“You can’t have an election if no one runs.” Unperturbed, Loretta finished her burger.
“If he’s on the town council already, someone voted for him,” Jax added, just to roil the waters.
“Fine then, we’ll see how the town is divided. Come along, kid, we need to visit Ariel.” Evie scooted out of the booth. “Thank you for lunch and let me know when Reuben is hitting the voting machine storage unit. I want to be there.”
Jax frowned and she grinned. The damned female enjoyed setting his teeth on edge.
* * *
Evie and Lorettabiked up the lane to Ariel’s cottage carrying turtle food and a small basket of peaches. Evie had texted their approach so Ariel could check her cameras and verify her visitors. Jax’s sister was waiting on the porch, not smiling, looking a little tense, but eager.
“Her bubble is growing,” Loretta said in satisfaction. “Like Jax’s. Is he autistic?”
“No, he’s a control freak and probably thinks bubbles are messy. But you know what it’s like to lose your parents. Imagine how you’d feel if you had to grow up with an old stranger who didn’t like noisy kids?” Evie halted when she could see Ariel’s aura. Normally, it was so crystal clear that she couldn’t detect emotion. Right now, Ariel’s aura had a slightly panicked tinge. She didn’t like them too close.
“I’d run away.” Which she had, so Loretta wasn’t boasting.
“You had somewhere to run. Jax and Ariel didn’t. They had no relatives.” Or they might, back in California, but they hadn’t even known their family’s name. She could understand Jax’s need to know who he was. Knowing family explained a lot of things. If Loretta hadn’t found them, she’d be living with people who thought her bubble-talk was crazy.
They set the turtle supplies and peaches on the wrought-iron bench R&R had installed beside the drive. In return, Ariel had left a packet of papers. Evie groaned, hoping she didn’t have to read spreadsheets—Ariel’s favorite communication.
But Ariel’s eagerness indicated she was expected to read them now. Jax’s sister usually just waved shyly and disappeared inside until they were gone. That she waited spoke volumes.
“Open it,” Loretta said excitedly. “Maybe there’s a prize.”
“You have a gazillion dollars in the bank, and you want a cracker jack toy?” Evie scoffed, bending the envelope fastener.
She drew out what appeared to be copies of bank statements—to Ironstone Ranch, Bolder, California. Loretta grabbed a handful.
“I can read these. Daddy said I need to learn about money,” Loretta explained when Evie lifted a questioning eyebrow. “I had my own bank account. He automatically deposited my allowance in it. But there aren’t many deposits on these.”
Evie scanned the dates and found the oldest. “These date backyears. Ariel only printed the December statements.” She studied the first one closer and swallowed hard. “We need to get these to Jax, pronto.”
“Why just December?” Loretta asked as Evie gathered the statements back in the envelope. “You didn’t let me study them. Did the balance go up or down? It didn’t look like a whole lot of money. What is Ironstone Ranch?”
Evie knuckled her ward’s too-big head and waved the envelope at Ariel, who nodded and darted back inside. “The balance went up enough to keep paying rising property taxes. I think we’re looking at a ranch that Jax and Ariel might own, if they can prove Aaron Ives was their father.”
“But he’s not rich if the ranch only makes enough to pay taxes.” Climbing back on her bike, Loretta tried to puzzle out such poverty.
“It’s not the money that matters—it’s knowing someone is looking out for the land. If we can find that someone, he’ll learn more about his father. That’s more valuable than money.” Evie punched in Jax’s contact and left him voice mail saying she’d picked up the papers Ariel wanted him to see. His sister could have emailed them. Was she fearful someone was watching their communication?
“OK, cool. Except now maybe he’ll want to move to California?”