Evidence of the renovation was everywhere. A staircase with an unfinished banister rose on the right, along with a wide, plastic-draped opening that must lead to the house’s primary living area. On her left, beyond a pair of sawhorses, lay the dining room. The smell of fresh paint and new wood permeated everything, but Dean was too intent on finding his mother to check out the changes.

“Believe me,” Blue said, “I understand what it’s like to have serious maternal issues, but you’re not in the best state of mind to deal with this. Maybe we should talk it through first?”

“Let’s not.” Shoving aside the plastic, he peered into the living room only to hear footsteps overhead. He headed for the stairs.

She had more than enough trouble of her own, but instead of letting him go, she stayed at his heels. “I’m just saying that I think you need to give yourself a little time to cool off before you confront her.”

“Beat it.”

He’d already reached the top with Blue only a few steps behind. The smell of paint was stronger up here. She peered around his broad back into the big, irregularly shaped hallway. All the doors were missing, but, unlike the downstairs, this area had been painted, new electrical sockets waited for sconces, and the old wide-plank floors gleamed. Just past Dean’s shoulder, Blue glimpsed a bathroom that had been carefully restored with white honeycomb tile, freshly painted tongue-and-groove wainscoting, an antique medicine cabinet, and pewter fixtures.

His mother emerged from a bend in the hallway, a slouchy metallic tote stuffed with papers in her hand. “I’m not sorry.” She met his eyes defiantly. “I’ve worked harder than any real housekeeper.”

“I want you out of here,” he said in a cold steel voice that made Blue flinch.

“As soon as I get everything organized.”

“Now.” He moved deeper into the hallway. “This is bullshit, even for you.”

“I’ve done a good job.”

“Pack up.”

“I can’t go now. Tomorrow, the men are coming with the kitchen countertops. I have electricians showing up and painters. Nothing will be done right if I’m not here.”

“I’ll risk it,” he snapped.

“Dean, don’t be stupid. I’m staying at the tenant’s cottage. You won’t even know I’m around.”

“You couldn’t be invisible if you tried. Now get your crap together and get out of here.” He brushed past Blue and headed downstairs.

The woman stared at his retreating back. Her head came up, her shoulders straightened, but then her weight seemed too much for her. The tote dropped from her fingers. She bent down to pick it up, then sat on the floor instead, her spine pressed to the wall. She didn’t do anything as dramatic as bursting into tears, but she looked so sad that Blue’s heart went out to her.