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Had he said too much?She obviously didn’t think that he shared enough. The beautiful woman in front of him was such a keen listener. With a tinge of regret, he looked over the empty dishes on the table. This coffee date was over.
Date? Get hold of yourself. This is an assignment. Be professional.
Of course. Oliver shot her a smile and then pushed back his chair.
“Shall we?”
Meghan nodded, her face an unreadable mask. Oliver could tell that she was thinking about all that he’d said to her. He wanted her to do that because she needed to see the entire picture. The mill was a crucial location for the agency’s investigation, and he would need her permission to conduct an extensive search of the property. Permission that Fred had refused to grant while he was alive. But Fred was an old, angry man who did not trust anyone. It still puzzled Oliver why he would choose Meghan as his beneficiary and not his daughter. Did Kate tell him she didn’t care for the remote piece of land? But why would she put that on Meghan?
“May I ask you a question?”
“Go ahead.”
He held the door open for her. Meghan brushed by him, and Oliver caught the scent of her perfume. It made his senses so aware of her presence that he had to restrain himself from touching her. He cleared his throat as he let the door shut behind them.
“How does your mom feel about you getting the inheritance?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, it’s usually the children who inherit the estate, not the grandchildren.”
She halted. “Are you suggesting I tricked Grandpa into disinheriting Mom?” Her tone turned sharp.
He raised his hands in protest.
“Of course not. But I wonder how she feels about all of this.” He continued as they walked down the sidewalk toward the supermarket. “You came alone to assume ownership of a property you had most likely never seen. That is all that I meant.”
She halted and studied him for a beat. “You ask a lot of personal questions for someone I only met yesterday.”
Meghan turned and continued walking.
Oliver followed. Had he just blown it? Time for damage control.
“Meghan,” he quietly called after her. Thankfully, she slowed down and let him catch up. He had to tread carefully.
“I’m sorry,” he said under his breath when he caught up to her. The scent of flowers again. His brain tried to decode the fresh notes that reminded him of spring.
Meghan slowed her pace. “I don’t like it when people assume the worst before they actually take time to get to know me.”
“I’m sorry.” He packed as much sincerity into his voice as he could. “All I wanted to ask was why are you here dealing with the estate instead of your mom. But that is none of my business.” His voice dropped when a woman turned around and blatantly stared at them. Oliver couldn’t afford to cause a scene. He had to win back Meghan’s trust.
“Mom had told Grandpa years ago that she didn’t want anything to do with his property. I think he hoped that she would return to the Czech Republic one day. But she spent most of her life in Canada. Besides, my dad doesn’t speak the language. I guess Grandpa thought that I might consider living in Europe. But I have no desire to move to a different continent. So, I came here to settle things, once and for all.”
As if a bucket of ice-cold water just dropped on his head, Oliver understood the reality of things. She had not come here to scout her options. Meghan made the trip to settle the paperwork. And once the sorry business was over, she would be on the first flight back to Canada. Why would she think of anything else?
The automated door to the supermarket swished open. What was wrong with him? This was so not his MO. He had a case to close, and she was a vital part of that assignment. Meghan was here for two weeks. That much he knew from her Airbnb reservation. There was no future in this strange infatuation.
Focus on the job, Oliver. Focus.
CHAPTEREIGHT
Northern Moravia, 1942
Fred filledanother bucket with water. This one was for Mother, to be used in the kitchen. He walked back to the mill, anger boiling in his veins. What was he to do with Father? His brother Honza left, and so had Karel, Marta’s fiancé. Neither one said a word to him before they disappeared. Marta cried herself to sleep every night until Father forced her to marry Fritz Eisenhart, the arrogant SS officer in charge of their district. The worst part was that Father made it sound like he did Fred a huge favor, arranging for the nuptials. Now, he was angry about the Weiss family hiding in the barn, and Fred had no doubt he would sell them out as soon as the dentist’s wallet was empty. They needed a plan. Fast.
Fritz was a powerful man. Father said that it was only because he was now part of their family, Fred didn’t have to fight the Reds. But every time Fred saw Marta, his heart twisted. His sister changed. She no longer smiled. If this was the price to pay for him to stay home so he could mill flour, maybe it wasn’t worth the sacrifice. But it was too late to think of that.
“Hey,” Hedvika’s voice startled him as she stepped closer to him, leaving her hiding place behind the wagon.