Page 48 of Welcome Home, Katie Gallagher
“Damn right I did! You were on the money with that one. I told her I’d do a little jig when her husband sold the house out from under her. And I will, too.”
Heather walked in. “Chief, you have a call on line one.”
I nodded and Heather left. “I’ve got a call, Pops. Do us both a favor and leave Katie alone. By rights, I should arrest you for assault and battery?—”
“It was an accident.”
“Accident or not, Pops, you shoved a woman who might be a hundred pounds soaking wet. You yelled at her and tried to force your way into her house. Stop acting like you’re the victim here. It’s just furniture!”
“But—”
“But nothing. I want you to think long and hard about what Nellie would say if she could have seen your little stunt today.”
After I hung up on Pops and dealt with a call about a stolen car, I sat, staring out the window. After everything Katie had already dealt with today, an appraiser would be pulling up any minute to let her know she’d be losing her house, as well. I didn’t know how to fix this. Or even if I wanted to.
Chapter Nineteen
Kate
Chaucer barked, running to the front door, as a knock echoed in the cavernous house. Sure. Why not? I got up from the bathroom floor and studied my red puffy eyes, my blotchy cheeks. Awesome. I splashed cold water on my face and walked to the entry as another knock sounded.
“Chaucer, sit.” I waited until he complied before opening the door. A stocky, muscular man in jeans and a plaid flannel shirt stood on my porch, a clipboard in his hand.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Cady. My name is Mark Rutherford.” He smiled uneasily. “I’m a local contractor and part-time appraiser. Your husband hired me to determine the value of this house before you put it on the market.”
I closed my eyes and tried to control my breathing. Chaucer whimpered and leaned against me, licking my hand. My stomach dropped out. Or maybe it was my heart. Either way, a vital organ was flopping on the porch like a fish out of water.
I blew out a breath and put up a finger. “Can you give me a moment to call my lawyer?”
He nodded and stepped back. “Sure. I’ll just wait in my truck. Take your time.”
I closed the door and walked to the kitchen. I had my lawyer’s number on a notepad by the phone. My fingers shook as I dialed.
“Kate! It’s about time you checked in. Your cell was turned off, and you haven’t responded to my emails.”
I gave her Gran’s phone number. “Sorry. There’s no Wi-Fi up here?—”
“In Maine?”
I let out a breath. “No, I mean Gran’s house.”
“Well, I’m glad you called. I’m working with your husband’s lawyer to try to hammer out a settlement. They’re hardballing, pretending he’s completely broke. Now I have to get auditors and investigators working on it. Unfortunately, that means I have no money for you right now. Are you surviving?”
“Yeah. My mom loaned me some money. Listen, though. I’m calling because there’s an appraiser here. He says Justin’s putting the house on the market. Can he do that? Just sell the house?”
Jean, my lawyer, cursed. “Yes. The rat bastard can, in fact, force a sale. I can stall it until we get his financials sorted, but unless you have the money to buy him out of his share, he can force the sale.”
“Shit.”
“Precisely. Let the nice appraiser do his job. We need to know how much it’s worth anyway, so I can negotiate it as part of the distribution of assets.” She paused. “You said the house was in bad shape, right? Dirty, animal infested?”
Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck. “It was. I just paid an exterminator to clean it out, and I’ve been rewashing the walls and floors all afternoon. So it may be empty of furniture, but it actually looks pretty good right now.”
“Our timing could have been better on that one. Nothing we can do. Let him in, and we’ll see where we are. Just in case, though, try to make your peace with selling. We may not have a choice.”
I hung up with Jean and made my way back to the front door. When I opened it, the appraiser stepped out of his truck.
“Am I good to go?” he asked, pulling a pen from his pocket and attaching it to the clipboard.
