Legal Heat by Sarah Castille

Author:Sarah Castille [Castille, Sarah]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Legal Heat#1
Publisher: Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
Published: 2013-04-23T10:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Katy cringed when yet another tree branch scraped along the side of her SUV. Did she have the right address? It was hard to imagine anyone used the narrow, overgrown driveway with any frequency—unless Terry Silver didn’t care about the paint on his vehicles. Or his shocks. The repairs to her vehicle from this little venture were going to eat up most of her monthly slush fund.

Damn Steven. His child support payments were always late, making it difficult for her to manage the monthly finances. But that was Steven. Totally unreliable. He didn’t even need the money. He had rented a small two-bedroom apartment in South Granville near the hospital. He drove an old Volvo. He didn’t own any man toys and he bought nothing for the kids. Her salary paid the bills, but with the sizeable mortgage on the house, she wasn’t left with much at the end of the month. Once she made partner, though, her salary would triple. She could hardly wait to be free of Steven’s financial noose.

She parked in front of a small, run-down house with an incredible view of English Bay and the North Shore. Siding lay in broken pieces on the ground and exposed wooden patches dotted the walls and roof like open wounds. What did he do when it rained?

Properties here in Kitsilano were exorbitantly priced, and often homes were passed down through families reluctant to sell their little piece of paradise. Silver’s home must be one of those. Too expensive to maintain, but too precious to sell.

At least he had agreed to see her. Through the coughing and wheezing on the phone, she understood Terry had been told he only had a few weeks left to live, and he had something to get off his chest. Something he said would help Martha and maybe others as well. But he had refused to talk over the phone. What was it with people and phones these days?

Katy picked her way over the muddied drive and headed up a stone path to the wooden porch. A rusted lawnmower, broken flower pots and an old swing set were scattered over the grass. Did he have children? If so, they must be grown and gone.

She knocked on the screen door, startling when it swung open of its own accord. Taking a deep breath, she stepped inside and called for Terry. No answer. She took a moment to adjust to the gloom. The smell of rotten food and stale air, sickly sweet and pungent, turned her stomach. She gave one last, lingering glance at the door behind her before walking down the hallway. Such a tiny little house. The kitchen might have been cozy with its glassed-in breakfast nook and spectacular view, but the piles of dirty dishes, spilled food and ecstatic cockroaches took away from the ambiance.

No Silver. She looked in the living room and peeked into the bathroom with its old-fashioned, chain-pull toilet and rusted sink, then she headed for the bedroom.

Light flooded into the tiny wood-paneled room.

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