Page 43 of Murder By the Millions

Helga chuffed. “You are incorrigible.”

“So my parents tell me.”

“Mr. Hardwick is in the office.” She waggled her feather duster. “The others, I do not know.”

I blew her a kiss and traipsed down the hall. “Yoo-hoo.” I rapped on the office doorframe and peeked in.

Like the guest rooms, the office was decorated in white and blue, its wallpaper featuring antique lanterns, but it appeared Noeline was making a serious change. The bookcases that lined the walls had been removed, and all the furniture pieces were covered with tarps. Patrick was facing the far wall, removing remnants of whatever had affixed the bookcases to the wall with an electric sander. He didn’t hear me enter, because he was whistling along to a recording of “Boulevard of Broken Dreams,” a classic rock song by Green Day.

I knocked again. “Patrick!”

He switched off the sander, shoved his goggles on top of his head, and closed the app playing the music on his phone. “Morning.” The sleeves of his work shirt were rolled up, exposing his massive forearms. His chinos were covered with dust.

“I’ve got treats,” I announced.

“Wow. Cool.” He accepted the box of goodies from me. “You’re a saint. I didn’t have time to swing by Ragamuffin. Sorry for the mess.”

“Doesn’t bother me. I’m not staying here. Where’s your crew?”

“Two are on a break. My project manager is outside with Noeline.” He hooked his thumb over his shoulder. “In addition to revamping the kitchen, she wanted to discuss adding a gazebo in the yard.”

I noticed a sizable scratch on his forearm. It wasn’t bleeding, but it was caked with blood. “Whoa. Pretty nasty scrape. Do you need a bandage?”

“Nah. It’ll heal naturally. Got it when I went caving last night.”

“Caving?”

“I went to Linville Caverns to see bats.”

The subterranean, four-thousand-square-foot site, located deep inside Humpback Mountain in the Pisgah National Forest, was one of North Carolina’s most mysterious attractions. Visitors had to hike down about thirteen hundred feet to view it. I’d visited once. On a tour.

“A bat scratched you?” I pointed at his arm.

He guffawed at my shocked expression. “Nah. The bats didn’t do this. Don’t worry. I’m not gonna get rabies or anything, and I’m not turning into a vampire anytime soon. I slipped on a rock.” He lowered his voice. “Please don’t tell anyone I was there. Between you and me, it’s against regulations to sneak into the caverns at night, because it’s dangerous, but I like a challenge. I get a real rush being in touch with nature in the pitch dark. Bats don’t mind someone going solo. They’re much friendlier one on one.”

“Friendlier?” I shivered. Bats gave me the creeps. Sure, they didn’t attack people. Usually, they swooped in because they were pursuing a bug, and apparently, they ate their body weight in insects each night, according to the tour guide. But theirscreeching could send fear spiraling down my spine. “When did you become interested in them?”

“My dad and me, we researched them. Learned their habits. I didn’t like living on a farm much, but we had bats, so I stuck around.”

“Allie!” Noeline rushed into the room, looking like a model in aTown & Countrymagazine—ecru shirt, tan chinos, her hair secured by a bandanna, her makeup understated. “Tegan contacted me. She said you were on your way here, and Helga said—” She crossed to me and hugged me. “I’m so sorry you had to see another dead body.”

“Dead,” Patrick said. “Who’s dead?”

“Jason Gardner,” Noeline replied over her shoulder.

“What? Whoa.” Patrick ran a hand along the side of his head. “Really? I was supposed to meet with him today.”

“You?” I freed myself from Noeline and regarded Patrick.

“He wanted me to do some repairs to the back porch of his estate before his gala event. You know, shore up everything to prevent accidents.”

“He doesn’t own the place.”

“The owner gave him permission.”

“And he hired you?” I asked, incredulous.

“Why is it hard to believe?” Noeline asked.