The Man Next Door. Gina Wilkins

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СКАЧАТЬ nodded. “Right here?”

      “Yeah. Lift with your knees. You don’t want to hurt your back.”

      “I know.”

      The princess obviously didn’t like being given instructions, even for her own good, he thought, judging by her rather curt tone.

      With Teague doing most of the heavy lifting, they managed to set the case upright. “Where do you want it, Mrs. Parsons?” he asked. “I’ll slide it into place for you.”

      “Right there,” she said, coming back into the room to point to a position half a foot down the wall from where the case stood now. “Just far enough so I can set this chair beside it.”

      He placed his shoulder against the end of the bookcase and shoved, bracing the front with one hand so that there wouldn’t be a repeat of the earlier catastrophe. “There?”

      “Just a little more.”

      Seeing Dani’s expression of sympathy, he smiled and pushed again.

      “Right there,” Mrs. Parsons said in satisfaction. “That’s just right. Oh, dear, look at this mess.”

      “I hope nothing too valuable was broken,” Teague said, reaching down to pick up a porcelain poodle that had been snapped neatly in half.

      “Thank you, dear, but most of it is just stuff I’ve picked up here and there. Junk, really.”

      Noting the regret in her eyes when she picked up the pieces of a porcelain rose, he said gently, “It doesn’t look like junk to me. I would guess these were things you treasured.”

      She blinked rapidly, then turned toward the kitchen. “The coffee should be ready. I’ll pour. Just leave those things, Dani. I’ll put everything in order later. Come have coffee. And I have snickerdoodles. I made them myself.”

      “I’d love to have coffee and cookies with you,” Dani said, placing unbroken curios on the shelves of the bookcase. “But Mr. McCauley has plans for the evening.”

      “I always have time for cookies,” Teague corrected her on an impulse, following the women into the kitchen. “And the name’s Teague, by the way.”

      “Oh, this is nice.” Mrs. Parsons beamed as she set a heaping serving plate on the table and pulled three mugs from a wooden mug tree. “I don’t have company very often.”

      Thinking of the near disaster that had precipitated this impromptu visit, Teague felt a little guilty that he hadn’t made more of an effort to speak to his obviously lonely neighbor when he passed her in the hallway. “I don’t have homemade snickerdoodles very often,” he said, putting two of the cinnamony cookies on the flowery dessert plate she’d set in front of him. “This is a real treat for me.”

      Dani had taken only one of the cookies for herself. She poured a drop of cream into her coffee. “I was just here last Monday, Mrs. Parsons,” she reminded the older woman. “We had pecan pie when I helped you bring your groceries in, remember?”

      “Oh, yes. We had a lovely visit, didn’t we? I told you all about that nice young single man who goes to my church. You really should let me introduce you, Dani. I think you’d like him.”

      Looking a little embarrassed, Dani studiously avoided Teague’s eyes. “Thank you, but as I told you then, I really don’t have time to meet anyone new right now. Between work and classes, I have very little free time for socializing.”

      “Oh, you’re too young to work all the time. That’s what I was telling Hannah yesterday when she brought a package up for me. She’s the young woman who moved in next door to you a few weeks ago, Teague. Have you met her yet?”

      “No. I’ve seen her a couple of times, but we haven’t introduced ourselves yet.”

      “She’s a first-year medical student. All she does is study, study, study.” Mrs. Parsons shook her head in disapproval. “She’s only twenty-six and she keeps her head buried in those books. I told her she needed to take a little time to enjoy her youth while she has it, but she just smiled and said she would take time to enjoy life after she gets her degree. Just like you, Dani. You girls and your ambitions—there’s more to life than careers, you know.”

      “What are you studying, Dani?” Teague asked.

      She took a sip of her coffee, then set her mug down as she replied. “I’m taking music education classes at UALR. Minoring in psychology.”

      “Yeah? We have something in common. I have a business administration degree from UT, but I also minored in psych. Always thought it was really interesting.”

      “University of Texas?” Mrs. Parsons asked.

      “Tennessee,” he corrected her.

      She shook her gray head in disapproval. “Oh, goodness. You’re a Vol?”

      He chuckled, remembering the red porcelain razorback figurine that had survived the crash in her living room. “Yes, ma’am. I guess you’re a UA fan?”

      “Oh, yes. I never miss watching the Razorbacks when they’re on the TV. But I won’t hold it against you,” she assured him magnanimously.

      He laughed. “I appreciate it.”

      He turned back to Dani. “You said you have a job in addition to taking classes. What do you do?”

      “I teach piano lessons.”

      “She teaches six days a week,” Mrs. Parsons expanded. “She has so many students that she’s had to put some on a waiting list—and she’s only been teaching here for a year.”

      “You must be very good,” Teague murmured, studying Dani over the rim of his coffee mug.

      Her left eyebrow rose a quarter of an inch. “I’m very good,” she replied coolly.

      He nearly choked on his coffee.

      “The girls aren’t the only ones who work all the time,” Mrs. Parsons continued, apparently oblivious to any undercurrents between her guests. She pointed an arthritis-crooked finger at Teague. “Your hours are grueling. Doesn’t the FBI allow its agents to get any rest?”

      Forcing his attention away from Dani, he smiled at the older woman. “Rest hasn’t been high on the priority list lately. But don’t worry about that. I get enough.”

      “Make sure you do. Good looks and good health don’t last forever, you know. You’re lucky to have both. You should take better care of yourself.”

      Teague grinned and winked at Mrs. Parsons. “Thanks for the compliment—and the concern. I’ll keep your advice in mind.”

      “You do that.”

      Having delivered her recommendations, Mrs. Parsons moved on to another subject. She chattered about a new shopping center being built not far from their building, about a new tenant on the second floor who had an unusual number of facial piercings, about a feature story she’d heard on the television morning show she’d watched earlier and about her СКАЧАТЬ