Another Man's Treasure (a romantic thriller) (Palmyrton Estate Sale Mystery Series Book 1) by S.W. Hubbard Page B

Reicker’s fridge.  I flip over a picture of the Eiffel Tower and read the message on the back.  “Hi Dad!  Paris is great.  The kids loved Notre Dame.  We ate at the café you told us about. Wish you were here, Stephanie”
    I run my finger across the faded writing and try to imagine writing a postcard to my father.  Then I let my fantasy run wild and picture him wanting to keep something I’d sent him.  Too much of a stretch.  Back to work.
    As I inventory the contents of Mr. Reicker’s kitchen, I hear Tyshaun clumping around upstairs.  He’s been quiet and aloof since spending those three days in jail.  Although he works as hard as ever, the jokey camaraderie he shared with me and Jill is gone.  Any efforts to jolly him out of his funk are met with a cold stare. He’s a black guy with a prison record; I’m a white girl with a BS in math. There’s a chasm between us and Ty’s not about to let me forget it. At the end of each day he makes a point of asking if there’s anything else he needs to do, then he slouches off, hood up, shoulders hunched against the cold. 
     
    I’m deeply engrossed in Mr. Reicker’s collection of vintage cookbooks when I hear a tapping sound.  Spinning around, I see a man’s face peering at me through the kitchen window.
    I open my mouth, but as in a dream, I can’t summon a sound. 
    The face disappears and I hear footsteps crossing the porch to the back door.  The unlocked back door.
    I take a deep breath and this time the scream is long and loud.
    The noise brings Tyshaun and Jill on the double.
    “There’s a man outside,” I say, pointing at the back porch with a shaking finger. 
    Tyshaun flings open the door.  “Yo!  What you doing out here?”
    There’s the sound of a scuffle as Tyshaun hauls someone from the back porch into the kitchen.
    Good lord, it’s Cal Tremaine!  His tie, which probably cost more than everything I’m wearing, is askew and his perfectly starched shirt has come untucked.
    “Let him go, Ty.  It’s Mr. Tremaine, one of our clients.”
    Ty releases his grip and Cal brushes the wrinkles out of his Italian wool suit jacket.
    “I’m so sorry,” I say.  “We’ve been a little jumpy since my attack.”
    Cal smiles weakly, keeping a wary eye on Tyshaun.  “Understandable.” Then he switches his focus to me and startles.  “My God, Audrey, you look terrible.  I didn’t understand how badly you were hurt.”
    “It’s not so bad.”  I turn my head away from his curious stare.  “I’m getting better…uh, what were you doing out there?”
    “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.  I stopped by your office to see how you were doing, but there was a note on the door saying you were over here.  I was heading this way for an afternoon appointment, so I thought I’d stop by.”  Cal offers up a rueful smile.  “You were supposed to call me when you were up to having visitors.  I got tired of waiting.”
    “Oh…I’m sorry.  I meant to… I tried calling you to thank you for the flowers but I got your voicemail.  I left a message. They’re beautiful.  The flowers, I mean.”  I’m babbling again.  Can someone please stuff a sock in my mouth? 
    At the mention of flowers, a light clicks on in Jill’s eyes, as surely as if I’d thrown a switch.  “C’mon, Tyshaun.  We better get back to work.”
    He’s about to protest but Jill fixes him with a penetrating glare.  Christ, could she be any more obvious?
    They leave together, but not before Tyshaun tosses one last smoldering stare at Cal. 
    “Your employees are very protective,” Cal says, sitting down at Mr. Reicker’s kitchen table.
    “Look, I’m really sorry. Ty didn’t realize who you were.  I hope he didn’t hurt you.”
    “Not at all,” Cal smiles and pats the seat next to him, inviting me to sit.  “He’s loyal to his boss.  I can appreciate that.”
    Cal’s remark cheers me. Despite the coolness Ty has been displaying lately, he is loyal,