their passes and headed outside, Jackson guided them down the outermost path that led to a small lake. He could’ve led them blind folded, he was so familiar with the grounds. Before the hospital was built, his mother would take him to the lake to fish. Those were some of his earliest and happiest memories, and since he’d been watching over Kinsley, his memories popped up more frequently. Remembering his mother the way she was during those happy times was bittersweet. Because her smile and playfulness faded over time, the change in her stayed with her until the day she died. He was eight-years-old. He recognized the same overall listlessness in Kinsley when he observed her. She would play with her son and laugh, smiling for the love of him, but when her boy wasn’t near, her features became drawn and heavy. She carried a burden just as his mother did. He felt the desire to change that. Maybe because he wanted to lift his own burdens.
After his mother’s death, he avoided places like the boathouse that had been special to them. Other than this morning, when he dropped off some supplies for his bogus stay as a patient, he hadn’t been there in a long time.
Several palm trees and tall grasses, growing on the outskirts of the water, surrounded the pristine lake, and as expected, the standard ‘Beware of Alligators’ signs stuck up out of the water. Beyond the lake, the path began to lead into an area with dense foliage, and further into the dense landscape stood the old boathouse, now in use as a hangout and grounds storage. He headed toward the small structure and stopped close to the door.
“What is this place? And how do we get in?” Kinsley asked.
Scar laughed teasing her. “Jackson has privileges.”
Raising an eyebrow, Kinsley peeked from beneath her lashes and looked at him. “And just how do you get those?”
He gave her a suggestive smile, which broadened when he saw her blush. “I’ve got skills that some people around here find irresistible.”
“Oh, get out,” Scar said and pushed him playfully. “He fixes the groundkeeper’s parking tickets.”
“You’re a cop?”
“Not anymore. Private instigator.”
“His top pick up line.” Scar smiled and choked back laughter.
“Like I need a pick up line.” He purposely flashed a leading man smile.
Scar pushed him gently again, rolling her eyes, and Kinsley laughed at the obvious insult he’d taken from the comment.
“How do you two know each other?” Kinsley asked.
“We’re related,” they said simultaneously.
“I’m her uncle.”
“I thought you seemed familiar with each other. So again, how’re we supposed to get into this place?”
He grabbed the key he’d hidden twenty-five years ago under a small Angel statue that sat nearby, held it up, and smiled. “It’s very simple if you have the key.” Opening the door, he beckoned them in as if they were entering a royal palace.
Straight ahead, the sitting area had a sofa, a chair, and a small table with a lamp. Stuck in the corner was a fat, sea foam green, stainless steel refrigerator. Plucked right out of a home and garden magazine circa 1950. The gardening supplies were stacked and neatly assembled in the room beyond. A nice setup, considering it was in use as storage.
Scar grabbed the chair, and Kinsley took the couch with him. He found the way she hugged the arm of the sofa to keep her distance adorable. The thought of her needing to keep her distance, as much as he wanted her not to, was promising.
Scar reached under the sofa, grabbed a small wooden box, and opened it, revealing a joint. “How about relaxing. Can we?”
He was aware Scar used the boathouse when she stayed at Lakeside, and only mildly surprised by her obvious activities. He glanced from Scar to Kinsley and hoped she wasn’t offended; he waited for her sign of approval. She smiled, shrugged, and they continued talking. He’d been watching Kinsley secretly for the entire three months she had been living at Wayde’s, never getting closer than the telescopic reach of his binoculars, and they rarely left his eyes when she was in view. Now, here she sat. After all this time, he still had a hard time pinpointing what drew him to her. Yes, she was beautiful and sexy, but he came across beautiful women all the time. Her uniqueness left him with an aching need to find out more.
After talking a while, Kinsley asked, “Are we going smoke that or admire it.”
He stood, took the joint from