Home Strange Home

by CeeCee James

  I groaned. “What a mess. Who needs twenty pounds of ribs? Or this lasagna pan of bacon and green beans? There’s enough food left to feed an army.”

  “I can’t believe the caterer’s abandoned us. They sure tore out of Dodge when the cops arrived.” She shook her head at the mess. “I say we wrap it and pile it in the fridge. I’m guessing there’s going to be a lot of people coming over.”

  We jumped into gear, her wrapping the food and me washing dishes.

  She leaned over and whispered again, “You don’t suppose it was murder?”

  “Murder?” Her question should have been more shocking, but Ian’s death still felt packed in a surreal bubble. Besides, we had been interviewed by the police.

  Still, I was scared to answer. What if Jasmine overheard?

  Kari ripped off a piece of plastic wrap. Immediately it balled. Huffing, she tossed it to one side and tried again. “Like maybe his neighbor,” she whispered. “He kept giving Ian funny looks throughout dinner.”

  “Gordon?” I asked. “Ian seemed kind of surprised when he showed up.”

  “That was weird. Gordon and Ian didn’t get along. Something about Christmas lights or dogs in each other’s yards. Your uncle was a little worried when he hung up the flamingo sign, sure that Gordon Taylor and his wife would start complaining. But maybe, they were relieved that Ian and Jasmine were moving away.”

  “Yeah. They have little motive. What about the new buyers?” I asked, dumping wine from a glass down the drain. My nose wrinkled at the especially sour scent.

  “They have the least motive of all,” Kari stated adamantly. “No, we need to figure out who would have benefited the most.”

  No one obvious came to mind. Then again, I hardly knew the man. The vaporizer spritzed as I wiped the surrounding counter. It really smelled good. I found the oil behind the diffuser, along with a bottle of antacid on the counter.

  “You think Jasmine needs this? I don’t want this to get lost in the shuffle.”

  “Maybe move it over here.” She opened a few of the cupboards. “Shoot. No luck. I usually keep medicine above my fridge.”

  “I’ll leave it here. Someone can put it away later.” I set the container next to the sink and went back to wiping the crumbs into my hand. Kari probably thought I was being quiet, but my brain was in overdrive, trying to analyze all the conversations that had happened at the table. Nothing seemed out of place. In fact, aside from my sick neighbor, most everyone had seemed happy. No surprise there. Wasn’t it usually that way at a party?

  Kari rinsed off the serving spoons. “You know that tall bald cop? He told me to stick around town.” She stuck them in the dishwasher and then dried her hands.

  My eyes widened. “His partner told me the same thing!”

  Her cheeks puffed and she shook her head. “Weird and weirder.” She ripped off another piece of plastic wrap and grabbed the potato salad.

  I eyed it nervously. “Do you think it’s still good?”

  “Good? It’s the bomb, girlfriend. Everyone says their homemade potato salad is the best.” She smiled smugly. “But mine really is. Besides, why wouldn’t it be?”

  “I mean because it’s been out at room temperature for so long.” It wasn’t just my neighbor that had a problem. I’d seen Ian take a bite of something and then grimace and quickly drink his wine.”

  “For the amount of work this took, I’m going to chance it. Joe will eat it. He’s got an iron gut.” She wrapped it firmly.

  I wrinkled my nose. I wasn’t a big potato salad partaker at the best of times, but especially not after someone had died.

  She continued to load the dishwasher while I gathered the linen napkins from the end of the counter where I’d left them. My hope was that there was a laundry room nearby.

  I headed down the hall, away from the living room and towards several promising doors. I could hear Uncle Chris again. And was that the neighbor, Gordon?

  The first door turned out to be the entrance to a study. It was stuffed with books and leather furniture and a huge desk. I quickly shut it and opened the next.

  This one was the bathroom. It was a huge room, decorated in the colors of rust and cream, and brass fixtures. Someone had thrown a hand towel on the quartz counter that was splashed with water. Another lay on the floor. I decided to tidy it a bit, first hanging the towels and then using some toilet paper to wipe down the counter.

  I was about to throw the wad of toilet paper in the wicker trash can when I saw a little gold clasp on the floor. I picked it up, meaning to leave it on the counter.

  A cold breeze brushed against my cheek. There was a squeak in the floorboard behind me.

  Every hair on my neck rose.

  Someone was watching me. It was happening just like Celeste described. Goosebumps trickled down my spine. The air suddenly felt heavy, like the humidity in a steam room. Slowly, I straightened and glanced in the mirror, dreading to see what was behind me.

  Light from the hallway reflected in the glass, and then I saw a door. It was open and directly across the hall from me. The interior was dark, and I couldn’t see who was in there. Watching me. My hand trembled with the urge to slam the bathroom door closed. To lock myself safely away. Instead, heart pounding, I spun around and boldly walked across the hallway.

  “Hello?” I called at the room’s entrance. My voice scared me to hear it cut through the silence, as weird as that sounds.

  There was no answer. I nudged the door open a bit more. A hum made me nearly jump out of my skin until I realized it was a wine fridge.

  It was the butler’s pantry. I walked inside to see a long counter, cupboards, even a small sink. There was another door on the other end that was slowly closing. I strode over and shoved it open.

  I entered the kitchen. There was no one in there.

  What in the world? Where did they go?

  Quickly, I ran past the granite counters and entered the dining room.

  “What are we supposed to do with these?” Kari asked, standing by the table with a bouquet of helium balloons.

  “Did you see someone come through here?” I asked, feeling breathless.

  She watched me like I had a koala bear hanging off my head. I stopped dead in my tracks feeling foolish at my over-reaction.

  “What do you mean?” she asked, pausing from winding the ribbons around her hand. “You okay?”

  “Someone was watching me while I was straightening the bathroom. I’m trying to figure out who it was.”

  “The bathroom?” She bit her lip, eyes wide. “Did you know that’s where they found Ian?”

  “What?” I shivered. It hadn’t occurred to me. Had the towel been on the floor because he’d felt faint, perhaps grabbing for the counter for balance?

  Nausea roiled through me.

  “Today, when your Uncle found him. Ian was in the bathroom. Oh, my gosh. Do you think Ian was like…hanging around still? Maybe he hasn’t left yet.”

  I stared at her. “Are you telling me it was a ghost?”

  “Well, there’s no one here but us, besides the three in the living room. Unless, I mean, maybe you imagined it. You know, here’s this creepy house where someone just died… I’ve been kind of spooked myself.”

  I liked that explanation better and nodded. “Yeah. Of course, that’s it. I’m tired, and it’s been a long day. My nerves are probably on overload.”

  She nodded. “We both need to get home. Now, tell me what I’m supposed to do with these? We can’t leave them here.” She tugged on the balloons, making them bob against each other.

  “Maybe your kids want them?” I suggested.

  She blinked incredulous eyes at me. “Death balloons, Stella. You’re offering my kids death balloons.”

  “Oh! Oops!” I thought for a second. “Maybe the hospital would like them? Or the nursing home?”

  She nodded. “Great idea. I’ll put them in your car.”

  I had to smile at how slick she was.

  As she hea
ded outside, I realized I was still clutching that darn pile of napkins. I wasn’t too keen to take a second trip down the hallway. Still, I wasn’t going to let my imagination dictate to me. However, as I passed it, I did shut the door to the butler’s pantry.

  The laundry room was next to it, with sleek silver-gray machines, complete with a steaming rack and an ironing center. I admired the dryer, my own rental house only had a wooden rack to dry clothes, and examined the bead-board on the walls. It was darn cute. I was working on the rental in exchange for rent, and I thought that would be an incredible addition to my own little laundry room. I chucked the napkins into one of the baskets I found and then headed back to the kitchen.

  Kari was wiping out the sink. I found a broom and swept while she finished, and then we were done.

  “Now what?” I asked.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Kari answered.

  Sounded good to me. I searched for my jacket with my thoughts scattered like a box of puzzle pieces, everything from death, potato salad, and oddly enough, paint colors.

  Kari swept the bowl and purse into her arms and we headed out. As we entered the hallway, my attention focused—in a guilty eaves-droppery way— onto the living room. I was afraid of what I might hear, to be honest, and my stomach clenched.

  Instead of the expected crying, there was a peal of laughter. What in the world? I knew that Uncle Chris was good at lightening up the mood, but maybe he was taking his job too seriously here.

  The laughter started again, and Kari and I stared at each other with raised eyebrows.

  “Oh, Gordon. What would I do without you?” Jasmine giggled.

  I paused, caught in the words. What did that mean?

  Kari grabbed my arm and pulled me through the front door.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I saw someone’s shadow and didn’t want either of us to get caught snooping.”

  “Thanks for the save,” I said gratefully, following her down the driveway. She juggled her salad into her other arm and dug through her purse for her keys. I was on the simple plan, a thin wallet in my back pocket, and keys in my jacket.

  Huffing a bit, she opened the trunk before hurling the potato salad inside. I blinked in surprise at the abuse that salad was going through. Knowing it would be eaten at the end of the journey made me want to hurl. I gave her a shivery goodbye and hopped into my car.

  Balloons bopped me in my face. I’d forgotten Kari had said she’d put them in my car and she sure did. I pushed them out of the passenger seat and into the rear where they bobbled until they managed to cover up every last bit of rear window.

  Amazing. I fastened my seat belt as Kari drove by. She gave a little toot of her van horn and a waggle of her fingers. I swear her grin was evil.

  I rolled my eyes and carefully backed out using my side mirrors and then headed to the nursing home.

  I could have never expected who I was going to see there.

  4

  I walked into the nursing home with the bouquet of balloons. I’d narrowly avoided having a Mary Poppins moment when a gust of wind grabbed them, nearly lifting me off my feet. Luckily, I managed to wrangle them back to earth with them bopping me in the face and winding their ribbons around my body. It was with pure relief that I dropped them off at the front desk. The nurse seemed happy to receive them. At least that’s how I was choosing to interpret the dour frown she gave me when I left her holding the bouquet. I hurried to leave when a surprised yell stopped me.

  “Stella! Yoohoo!”

  I turned slowly, terrified that the nurse had somehow discovered my name. She was going to make me take those balloons back, wasn’t she?

  Imagine my surprise when I discovered that it was Charity Valentine, a senior woman who had once been my client. To say things hadn’t gone well would be the understatement of the century, and my heart leaped into my throat when I saw her here. I knew that both she and her older sister had been looking for a new house. Was she now a resident of the nursing home?

  And was this my fault?

  She scampered over—all four feet of her— as spry as I remembered. Her curls bobbed around her face. “How very good to see you,” she squealed, grabbing my hand.

  It was then that I noticed a purple badge on her shoulder, stating “volunteer.” The relief that flooded through me made me giddy. “Charity! Don’t you look wonderful! Do you work here?”

  “I do, I do. I came here a few weeks ago to drop off flowers and then met a dear old classmate of mine. Stella! I have a beau!” ” She blushed and giggled behind her hand.

  Her joy was contagious. “I’m so happy for you!”

  “Yes! And you’ll never guess. He and I are now in charge of the dance lessons! Right now we are teaching the fox-trot.”

  We chatted some more, with me carefully skirting the subject of her older sister. The elder Ms. Valentine’s last name almost seemed like an oxymoron because of her baleful attitude. After a few minutes, I left Charity to go find her man. Seriously, it brought some suspicious stinging to my eyes to watch her hurry away. She’d waited such a long time to have a special someone, and I was delighted for her.

  I returned to my car in a rather introspective mood. The circle of life was flashing its display all around me. Love. Death. Family. The problem was, I couldn’t decide exactly where I was in the circle. Was I just… existing?

  I groaned at the heavy thought. Trust me to get all melancholy and deep about a friend finally finding love. I could tell it was no good to go straight home. I’d just spiral. There was only one place I knew I could go when I was in this type of mood; my grandfather Oscar’s place.

  Deciding to visit him, I shifted the car into drive. As I pulled onto the highway, the phone rang. Another groan escaped me as I read the name.

  Dad. I bet he already knew what had just happened at the party. Don’t ask me how. He always had a sixth sense about stuff like this. Either that or he had a hoard of spies. Knowing the stock he came from, that was always a possibility.

  I couldn’t think about spies now, resigning myself to answer. It’s funny how sometimes when you need to talk, the exact wrong person appears. It’s not that I didn’t love my dad. I adored him. It’s just that he’s not always helpful.

  “Hi, Dad.”

  His voice boomed through the car’s speakers. “Stella, I just heard what happened. Are you okay?” His voice was tight with concern.

  “Yeah. I’m kind of in shock right now.” I clenched the steering wheel and had to remind myself to ease up and relax.

  “What I want to know is how this happened? What kinds of places is my brother dragging you to? Parties with dead bodies? I knew you moving out there was a bad idea.”

  “Dad, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but it wasn’t like that. They were friends. Uncle Chris was throwing him a going away party.”

  “Oh, I know all about your uncle’s friends. Were they drinking? Drugs?”

  I bit my lip. This was exactly what I’d feared would happen. Dad was treating me like a kid again. “It was a respectable party. I mean, other than the shock of a man dying. This was Uncle Chris’s friend, Dad. I think you could be more understanding.”

  He sighed, his breath echoing through the speakers, and blanketing me with his disapproval. “Stella, can you just explain something to me?”

  Tightness squeezed my chest. Here it comes. The lecture. “I’ll try. What is it?”

  The two seconds interim seemed to last forever as I tried to prepare myself for the onslaught of his questions.

  “I just don’t understand why you’re doing it,” he finally said.

  “Doing what?”

  “Living out there on a small salary when you had everything you could have wanted out here. Heck, I can even get your job back if you’d just return. You had money, you had respect. You had a good career. What happened to you? It’s like I don’t even know you anymore.”

  Oh, boy. That hurt. This wasn’t the first time he’d question why I’d moved
back to Pennsylvania. And, thus far, he’d never accepted my answer.

  “Was it just Oscar? You wanted to meet him?” Bitterness threaded through his voice. He’d never divulged the reason he’d cut his dad off, but I could tell that my dad thought I’d betrayed him by moving back.

  “No, Dad. That’s not it. I mean, that was part of it, but I could have just flown down for a visit if that’s what I wanted. I do have a lot of curiosity and questions about my family though. It’s just been you and me for so long. Growing up, everyone I knew had a family. I was the weirdo without one. And there is one out here. So, I needed to figure that out.”

  “So it was for him.” He sighed.

  “Not just him.” I sucked in a deep breath and then blurted out. “I’m so honored to be compared to you in so many ways. When people say I’m honest or have high integrity like you that makes me happier than you will ever know. But I’m not like you in the need for a career. I’m actually really thankful for this realty job. It’s been interesting.”

  A big semi roared past me, scaring me. I jerked in my seat and told myself to calm down. The seconds ticked by as I waited to hear how he would respond.

  His voice was glum. “I thought I’d be doing better with you living out there. I just can’t seem to accept your decision.”

  I swallowed, not knowing how to make him feel better.

  “All right kiddo, I’ll talk with you later. Stay safe.”

  “I will, Dad.”

  “Love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  We hung up with me feeling hollow and somehow guilty. I was in no better mood when I pulled down Oscar’s driveway.

  Across the hedge that divided his property from the neighbors, I spotted a gal about my age jump down the steps of a huge house and get into a white van. The van gave a loud pop, and then she backed up as I shut my car door. For a second, our eyes met, and she gave a cheery wave.

  I knew that house was the Baker Street Bed-and-Breakfast. I’d seen the van there before and wondered who she was. She seemed nice. Friendly.