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Sunflower rugs also lay before the kitchen sink and refrigerator. In here the pervasive stench of mildew and ocean was not as evident, filtered by the scent of cinnamon from a source he could not locate.
    “My little sanctuary,” Megan admitted, casting him a side look.
    Jake noticed the laptop and printer on the table, and the half-filled cup of coffee. He also saw the garbage can heaping with crumpled newspapers, some tumbling onto the floor.
    “I take it this is all your touch.”
    She nodded. “Oh, goodness, forgive me—here.” She reached into a drawer and yanked out an armful of kitchen towels and, with a twitch of her hip, closed it again.
    The gesture made Jake’s glance latch on to her slim waist. “Thanks.”
    As he started to towel himself off, Jake caught Megan’s eyes wrenching away from the motion.
    “Yes, I tried to visit Estelle and ask her if I could start doing some renovating.” Her hand swept toward the arched doorway into the bleak shadows of the dining room. “I guess you can see what shape this place is in. But she—she wasn’t doing well that day. She has no relatives that I can contact to ask—” Megan looked at him.
    “Don’t look at me,” he injected. “I’m still trying to find out if she’s a relative, remember.”
    “Yes, I remember.”
    “The changes you’ve done in here…what’s not to approve of? It’s nothing major. Just some new paint, new rugs, a new table and some bright accessories. With very little effort you transformed this kitchen, I’m guessing.”
    “Thanks,” she mumbled.
    Outside the rain tortured the façade, while inside Jake stared edgily up at the ceiling, expecting to see the dark hue of moisture pool there.
    “Don’t worry,” Megan reassured him. “She’s held up to much worse than this.”
    “Doesn’t it scare you? I mean being in this old house all alone?”
    Blue eyes rounded. Megan took a step back.
    “Whoa, hey. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I was just—” Frustrated and alarmed, Jake rubbed a hand through his hair. “I just… Well hell, if I knew you better, I would be worried about you being out here by yourself. There’s no one nearby if you’re in trouble, there’s—”
    Every word Jake said only heightened Megan’s look of horror. He sighed and tried toregroup. “Okay, forget about all that. None of my business, right? So let’s get on to what is my business.”
    Again, Megan took a retreating step until the backs of her knees hit the frame of the box bay.
    Jake had to get out of here. This woman was a wreck and she looked at him as if he was going to attack her at any second. He was tempted to reach for her shoulders, and say don’t worry, you’re safe with me, but his mere touch would probably make her pass out from fright.
    “Estelle.”
    Air seemed to slump from Megan’s body, and with it she sank down onto the yellow cushion. “Oh yes,” she said weakly.
    The towel only did so much. Jake was starting to feel uncomfortable. He took his jacket off and threw the soggy lump of leather on the tiled floor. He felt Megan’s eyes on him. They traced over his flannel shirt and down to the line where his jeans had been exposed to the rain.
    Megan probably wasn’t even aware that she was staring, but he wasn’t going to stop her. That look warmed the damp traces from his body.
    “You said you tried to see her—that she wasn’t doing good.” He probed, “Tell me, in your honest opinion, do you think I’ll learn anything here?”
    A soft lump flowed down Megan’s throat.
    “I don’t know what to tell you. Like I said, I had heard that Gabrielle never had any children. Harriet actually told me she was barren. And when I moved in here, there were no photographs of family, not even a picture of Gabrielle on her dresser—not even Estelle’s husband.” Megan toyed with the hems of her sleeves. “Little things like that make this house as cold as it is. It needs memories. Snapshots of the lives that