Broke: Read Free

last night. When he fell asleep--Immy thought that might mean when he passed out--the other two were still there , though they seemed to be gone now . The guy named Grunt had let them in the back way .
    The cops hustled the guy who was probably Immy ' s Uncle Dewey into the rear seat of Hadlock ' s cruiser and, after saying they ' d contact the two women if they needed statements or more information, drove away.
    That ' s why the guy had seemed familiar. He greatly resembled Immy ' s dead father, Louis Duckworthy, a Wymee Falls cop who was shot and killed ten years ago, when she was twelve. Her Uncle Huey, who had died less than a year ago, hadn ' t resembled his brothers. Took more after his dumpling of a mother. Immy had never been certain there was another brother. She' d heard things, but h er mother was reluctant to talk about him. Probably because of the prison thing, she figured now. When she got home, she ' d cross-examine Hortense.
    Jersey and Immy went back inside and Immy walked through the house again, this time making it to the third story . It was divided into smallish rooms that lined up behind the railing. Immy stepped up to it and peeked over at the floor of the entry hall , far below. Her palms prickled and her heart sped at the distance. She had a teensy touch of fear of heights, after all. Each room had one or two of the oriel windows. In some the mini bays were outfitted with cushioned window seats. Several of the rooms were crowded with furniture and boxes, but some were empty of furnishings. None were empty of dust and cobwebs.
    They finished up downstairs, in the kitchen, at the rear of the house . It was apparent, now that they knew, that someone had been here last night. A couple of whiskey bottles poked out from under the lid of the wastebasket. A damp towel hung on the sink. Jersey waved a hand in front of her face. " I might have to fumigate this place now. "
    Immy sniffed, but couldn ' t smell anything beyond musty old vacant house , and a fading, faint odor of liquor . " That ' s all right. I ' ll take care of everything. "
    Jersey stared at her. " You mean you still want this place? "
    Did she? It was her only option if she wanted to leave Saltlick and live in Wymee Falls with Drew and Marshmallow. No other properties, other than the three she didn ' t like and couldn ' t afford, would allow the pig. Immy stepped to the window above the sink , overlooking the back yard. " How much property is there? "
    Jersey pulled a folder out of her briefcase and ran a red-polished nail down a sheet of paper. " About a third of an acre. "
    " That ' s a good-sized yard. " Not a lot of grass, but that was all right. " Would Mr. Tompkins mind if I built a fence? " Marshmallow would have to have a sturdy fence. Pigs are good at getting out of places.
    Jersey shrugged. " I can ask him. Let ' s go back to the office. I ' ll call the owner and, if you want to rent, you can fill out the paperwork today. "
    Maybe Jersey was being a little pushy, but Immy was anxious to get the deal done, too, so that was okay.
    On the way to the strip mall, Jersey muttered non-stop about " the nerve of some people " and " damn, filthy homeless " and " vagrant, squatter " . He hadn ' t looked filthy to Immy, but he probably was homeless. Had Jersey not caught on that the guy was related to her? Immy wondered how long he ' d been out of prison, the Allblue Unit in Wymee Falls. Strange to think she had had an uncle living so close when she didn't even know for sure that he existed.
    Another agent was in the office when they returned . Immy halted and stopped breathing for a couple of seconds. The guy was gorgeous.
    He turned his head of wavy black hair toward her and lifted deep, dark, chocolate eyes that made something inside her turn to liquid. Immy groped behind her for Jersey ' s side chair and plopped into it .
    " Hi, " he said, his voice smooth and deep. " I ' m Vance Valentin. "
    Well, of course you are, thought Immy. " I ' m ,