Every House Has a Secret – 20

 

"Now we know that the Thatcher boys probably did inherit the house like they told the realtor," Brady said Friday evening, after relating what he'd found out.

 

"They weren't the ones she talked to," Rand replied. "The men calling themselves Alan and Steven Thatcher were too young to be them, unless the realtor was really bad at judging ages."

 

"True. So who the hell were they?"

 

"You're asking me?" Rand shook his head. "Also, what about his sons from his first marriage? Why didn't they inherit the house? They'd be…" He did a quick mental calculation, "in their sixties by now."

 

"My chore for Sunday—no, Monday when I get to work."

 

"Why wait until then?"

 

"Because as interesting as all this is, we have to go rent a sander and whatever comes with it tonight. Also, we need to choose kitchen cabinets and tiles for the kitchen floor to replace the linoleum. We want them delivered in the morning for Nick and his crew so he can start putting them in on Monday. Tomorrow, since it's Saturday we'll work on the other floors. That's going to be an all day job. Sunday, we varnish everything."

 

"I don't wanna," Rand pouted before relenting. "Yeah, we do. The sooner we get finished, the sooner we can move in."

 

"That, my dear man, is the idea." Brady started toward the door and stopped. "She, Mrs. Hodges, was murdered in the house. Our house," he said, looking at Rand.

 

Rand nodded. "I get that. Are you asking if I can handle living there, now that we know?"

 

"I guess I'm wondering if we both can. I know it happened a long time ago but…"

 

Rand took Brady's hands. "It was a tragedy which obviously affected Hodges in more ways than one, if you're right about why he went off the deep end, which I think you are. That said, yes it was well in the past. Are we going walk around the house wondering if this or that room is where she died? Maybe, for a while, although we'll probably never know for certain." He smiled, adding, "I'm not sure I want to. It's a beautiful house, Brady, or it will be when we're finished with it. We're making it ours, just as she made it hers when she lived there. I think she'd want us to love it as much as she did."

 

"You're right." Brady hugged him tightly. "If she's up there, watching, she'll be proud of what we've accomplished. But that won't happen if we don't get moving. We have shopping to do, floors to sand, walls to paint—"

 

Rand stopped his ramblings with a kiss and a laugh. "If you keep talking about what we still have to do, I'm going to get discouraged and give up."

 

"No you won't. You want this as much as I do."

 

"Probably more. Now I'll have room for all my books. The ones I own, and the ones I plan on buying."

 

"God help us both," Brady replied with a grin.