The Life Thief

by Cherie Mitchell

Alice walked up beside her desk and added a couple more sticky notes to her pile. “All these people want a call back from a realtor at some stage. I just took their names and numbers, like you told me.”

  “Thanks, Alice.” She stared disbelievingly at Alice’s wrist as the girl drew her hand back. “Your tattoo. It’s a black cat like mine.”

  Alice hurriedly covered the tattoo with her other hand. “It’s a picture of my own cat. I booked it in months ago and I’ve been saving up to get it.”

  “It looks a lot like mine.” Becky laid her arm flat on the desk with her wrist facing up. “Show me,” she demanded.

  Alice reluctantly laid her wrist alongside Becky’s. The designs were nearly identical, except Alice’s cat had a tail that curled down and around rather than up as Becky’s design did. “That looks a lot like my cat, Alice. Did you copy me?”

  Alice snatched her hand away. “I told you I’d booked it months ago. Before I even met you.”

  “You’ve never mentioned that you have a cat. I don’t like to think that you went out and did something just because I did it.”

  “You have never asked me about my cat. Sasha knows I have a cat.” Alice obstinately set her jaw. “You spend too much the time talking about yourself and about how perfect your own life is to pay any attention to anyone else.”

  “That’s bullshit and you know it.” She glared at the girl and was about to say something else but she stopped herself. She sounded like a cranky old harridan. Did she really spend all her time thinking about herself? She hoped not. She calmed herself and looked at Alice’s suit, wanting to say something nice to make up for her harsh comments. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have sworn at you. I like your outfit. Is it new?”

  Alice, apparently willing to forgive and forget, tugged proudly on the hem of her blazer. “Yes, I bought it in the weekend. I wanted to get some more corporate wear. I think it’s important, considering the type of job I’m doing.”

  Becky nodded. She had noticed that Alice did not seem to have many different clothes to choose from, just the same as it was when they were at the retreat. “It looks lovely on you.”

  Alice beamed and walked back to her desk. Becky watched her go, noticing for the first time that her hair seemed longer and less curly. “What have you done to your gorgeous curls?”

  Alice self-consciously touched her hand to her hair. “I’m trying out some newer, straighter styles. Do you like it?”

  “It’s nice but your curls were something special. You should embrace them. People would kill for hair like that.” The phone on Becky’s desk began to ring again. “Why don’t you take a lunch break? I’ll look after things here until Sasha gets back. She’s due in at any moment.”

  Alice nodded and picked up her bag. Becky turned her attention to her phone call, putting Alice firmly to the back of her mind. She had far too much to do herself than worry about whatever it was that Alice was up to in her private time.

  Michael called her as she was driving across town to her house showing in Sherwood in the popular Tualatin Valley. She pressed Answer Call as she waited at the traffic lights. “Hi, sweetheart.”

  “Hey, Becky.” He sounded distracted and she could hear the muted sound of voices in the background. “Are you at home?”

  “No, I’m doing a showing in Sherwood, remember? I told you at breakfast.” At breakfast, after which she had sadly packed away Lucifer’s food dish, aware that she’d probably never see him again. She hoped he was living happily with an old lady somewhere, as Michael had suggested. It was better than thinking of the alternative.

  “Oh that’s right. Sorry, I’ve got a lot on my mind.” She heard him cover the mouthpiece and the murmur of voices again. She drove off as the light turned green, wondering if she’d brought everything she needed with her from the office.

  “Are you there, Becks?”

  “Still here.”

  “Sorry about that. We’re about to go into a closed door meeting and then we’re having late drinks with the Ansley Manufacturing crowd. I might stay here. It’s going to be a late one.”

  She frowned down at the phone where it sat on the console between the seats. “You’re going to sleep in the office?”

  “No! No, not the office. I’ll sleep over at that hotel where I stayed while you were away doing your hippy retreat. I don’t want to stumble in at 3am and disturb you, not with your schedule.”

  “I don’t mind.” She cursed under her breath as she missed the next set of lights. She should have allowed for the traffic, left herself with a little more time to get there.

  “What was that?”

  “Don’t worry. The traffic is nuts. Ok, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow night?”

  “You sure will. Bye, hun.” He blew a kiss down the phone.

  “Bye. I love you.” He’d already hung up. She tossed the phone onto the passenger seat and slowly nudged forward as the cars in front of her began to move. If luck was on her side, she’d get there with time to spare.

  It was almost 10pm when she finally made it home. She was tired, hungry, and in need of one of those wonderful massages that she’d enjoyed at Far Horizons. She needed to make sure she stuck to the vows she’d made while she was up there. She needed to make herself a priority and not spend her entire life working. She needed to book regular massage treatments and take some walks, even if she hadn’t been able to persuade Michael to accompany her.

  Her phone rang as she switched off the engine and she frowned to see her mother’s name flashing up. Why would she be calling this late? She snatched up the phone, answering the call quickly. “Mom? What’s wrong?”

  Her mother laughed her soft laugh and Becky could picture her now, dressed in her long flannelette nightgown and fluffy slippers as she made a bedtime cup of hot chocolate for Becky’s father. “Nothing’s wrong. Why would you think anything was wrong?”

  “You don’t usually call me this late.” Becky balanced her folders in her arms and walked across the shadowed driveway, throwing a hopeful look at the bushes as she always did, even all these weeks after her cat disappeared. “Lucifer is still missing.”

  “Oh, darling. I know how much you loved him.”

  “Not exactly loved him. He was a difficult cat to love. Let’s just say he let me worship at his altar.” Becky juggled the phone between her cheek and shoulder as she fumbled for the key. “I got a tattoo to remind me of him.”

  There was a telling pause before her mother said brightly, “How nice.”

  “I know you don’t like them, Mom.” She kicked the door shut with her foot and carried her armful of folders through to the kitchen. “I love it. It’s on my wrist and it makes me smile whenever I see it.”

  “As long as it makes you smile I guess I can’t ask for anything more.”

  “How are the renovations going?” Becky opened the refrigerator and stared at the half-bottle of wine before deciding against it. She’d finish her call before going straight upstairs to have a shower. Her bed was comfortable and warm and it might be pleasant to sprawl across the entire mattress without Michael being there.

  “Wonderfully well. I put some photos up on the Facebook.”

  Becky grinned. “Not the Facebook, Mom. Just Facebook. And yes, I saw them. I left some comments too – didn’t you read them?”

  “No, dear. I haven’t been back on there. You know I don’t really understand that social news stuff. When are you and Michael coming to see us again? It’s been too long since you last visited.”

  Becky kicked off her shoes at the bottom step and began to climb the stairs. “We’re both working idiotic hours, Mom. Michael isn’t even coming home tonight.”

  “He’s working all through the night? Is that allowed? Doesn’t the council have rules against that type of thing?”

  “No, he’s staying at a hotel near the office. He’ll be out to all hours at a business meeting and he doesn’t want to disturb me by coming in late. It makes sense for him to stay in the city.” She sti
fled a yawn. “I’m going to have a shower and call it a night. I’d just arrived home from a showing when you called. Give my love to Dad.”

  “Goodnight, sweetheart. Let me know when you can come for lunch. Maybe next Sunday? I can do a roast of beef. I know how much Michael likes them.”

  “We’ll try but I can’t make any promises. I’ll let you know once I’ve spoken to Michael. Bye, Mom.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Someone was in the house. Becky was instantly wide-awake and on high alert. Had she dreamed it, or had she heard someone moving around downstairs? Had she locked the door? She was on the phone when she walked inside, plus she’d been thinking of Lucifer and trying not to drop her folders. Had she locked it or had she only pushed it shut?

  Her heart was pounding as she reached for her phone from beside the bed. No charge. She hadn’t plugged it in when she fell into bed last night. Her mouth was dry now and her heartbeat thundered loudly in her ears. She quietly slid out of bed and tiptoed over to the door to listen again. What was she supposed to do if someone was in the house? She couldn’t call for help with her phone dead and the only landline was in the study. How could she have been so stupid?

  After several minutes of waiting and listening but hearing nothing more, she braced herself. She walked out of the bedroom and onto the landing. “Who’s there? The cops are on their way.”

  Her voice sounded loud in the quiet of the house. She listened again but there was no further sound. There had been no more noises since she first awoke – was it only a dream after all? She placed a tentative foot on the top stair. “I’ve called the police. They’re less than five minutes away.” No sound, no reply.

  Feeling foolish now, she switched on the lights and ran down the stairs. The house felt empty and hushed and she could smell the faint scent of her apple pie candles as she walked down the hallway. There was no here but her. She walked through the kitchen and out into the entranceway to check the lock on the door. She gasped out loud, shocked to her core when she saw the door standing wide open. Without a minute’s hesitation, she was running through it and out onto the darkness. She daren’t look back, afraid that someone was running after her, as she pounded on bare feet down the driveway and out onto the street. She looked at both the neighboring houses, unsure of her best bet. The elderly couple on the left were hard of hearing and might not hear her knocks. She ran up the garden path of the other house and thumped on their front door with a closed fist. “Alan! It’s Becky! Open the door!” She pressed herself back against the door and stared fearfully out at the street but it remained deserted and silent. She could hear footsteps in the house and she whirled around just as the outside light flicked on and Alan Greene opened the door. The young father, drowsy with sleep, looked at her curiously. “What is it, Becky?”

  Her voice was high and breathless and she found herself struggling to get her words out. “There’s someone in my house. Call 911. Michael isn’t home.”

  Alan took a step outside, peering across at her house in the dim light. “There’s someone there? What do you mean?”

  She grabbed his arm, digging her fingers into his flesh through his pajama sleeve, needing him to understand her urgency. “Call the police! There’s an intruder in my house!”

  “Who is it, Alan?” Sandra, Alan’s wife stood halfway down the stairs with her hair tousled and her robe clasped tightly around her.

  “Sandra!” Becky pushed past Alan and ran into the house. “Call the police right away. Someone broke in while I was sleeping. I don’t know if they’re still there.”

  Sandra hurried down the stairs and into the kitchen. Becky followed her but Alan stood where he was, apparently too sleepy-headed to think straight yet. Sandra dialed the number and thrust the phone at Becky. “You tell them.”

  Two police cars arrived remarkably quickly, and Becky was glad of it. Alan had gone as far as his mailbox to look over at her house before his nervous wife called him back, telling him that the intruder might be armed. Becky jittered around on the spot while she waited, refusing Sandra’s offer of a glass of water. When the police cars pulled up at the curb, lights flashing but sirens off, Becky walked with Alan down the path to greet them. “Hi, I’m Becky. I made the call. That’s my house there.” She stared up the driveway at the partially open door, half-expecting a masked man to run out at any moment.

  “Did you see anyone?” one of the officers asked. “Did you see the person who broke in?”

  Becky shook her head, feeling herself beginning to tremble as shock began to set in. Sandra draped a blanket over her shoulders and Becky accepted it gratefully. “My husband is away. I forgot to lock the door or set the alarm when I went to bed and a noise woke me up. I came downstairs to see that the door was open and then I ran to Alan and Sandra’s to call you. My phone battery was dead.” She was babbling now but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. “I don’t know who it is. You need to be careful in case they have a gun.”

  “We’ll take the appropriate precautions, ma’am. Can you go inside with your friends, please? We’ll take care of it from here. Did you say there’s no one else at home at your place?”

  “No, only me. I don’t even have my cat with me. He went missing.”

  Sandra put her arm around her and gently urged her away. “Come inside, Becky. Let them do what they need to do.”

  Becky pulled the blanket close around her and allowed Sandra to lead her back to the house. “Sandra, I was so scared. I shouted out to ask if anyone was there and no one answered. I thought I’d imagined it and then I saw the door was open.”

  It was nearly twenty minutes later before the first officer came back and knocked on Alan and Sandra’s door. He explained that they’d found no one in the house and that nothing appeared to be disturbed. He asked Becky to come back with them to check if anything had been stolen and she asked if Sandra and Alan could come, too. They walked all through the house together but Becky could find nothing out of order. She pulled a sheepish face at the officer as they walked back to the front door. “The door must’ve blown open in the wind.”

  “It may have done, but there isn’t much breeze around tonight.”

  “I’ve wasted your time. I’m sorry.”

  “No problem, ma’am. That’s what we’re here for. By the way, you shouldn’t leave candles burning all night,” he admonished gently. “Not unless you want a visit from the fire brigade as well as the law enforcement team.”

  She gazed at him in horror. “I didn’t light any candles. I came home from work and went straight up to bed.”

  The officers exchanged a look. “What about this, ma’am? Did you leave it on the outside of the door?” The second officer held his hand out and she saw the sticky note stuck to the end of his index finger. She stared at it dumbly. “What’s that?”

  “It looks like someone left you a note.” He shone his flashlight on it so she could read the words. I heart you, Becky Monroe xx

  She swallowed hard. “That’s the type of note my boyfriend leaves for me but that’s not his handwriting.”

  “He couldn’t have left it there for you before you came home?”

  “No. He left the house at breakfast time and he hasn’t been back since. I swear that wasn’t on the door when I came home.” She shut her eyes, feeling faint. “I need to talk to him but my phone battery is flat.”

  “You can use our phone,” Sandra said kindly. “You can sleep over at ours too, if you like. I can understand how you might not feel comfortable staying here tonight.”

  “I want to stay here,” she said unsteadily. “This is my house.” She would not allow herself to be pushed around again. She’d made that pledge to herself after Tony did what he’d done. It was part of her own healing process, a way to regain control of her life.

  “We can have another look through the house for you,” said the first officer. “If it’ll make you feel any better. Do you know anyone who might’ve wanted to play a prank on you?”

&
nbsp; “No.” She shook her head, not knowing what to think anymore. Did she have a stalker? Some weirdo who imagined he’d fallen in love with her? An image of the man who followed them from the bar floated across her mind. “There was someone the other evening. He followed us out onto the street after we had dinner in Downtown and he threatened my boyfriend.”

  “Threatened him? In what way?”

  “It was quite vague,” she admitted. “He just said watch out and that he’d been warned. Michael works for the council. He wasn’t at all concerned about what the man said. He told me crazy people are always throwing words around because they get themselves worked up about the council rules and regulations.”

  “I can understand that but I think I should talk to him. What’s your boyfriend’s name? Michael? We can give him a call tomorrow.”

  “Michael Burton. He’s a town councilor.” Becky wondered how much longer her legs would hold her up. “I think I might need to sit down.”

  “You go right ahead, ma’am. Perhaps your nice neighbor can make you a hot drink.” He smiled at Sandra. “We’ll just finish up here and then we’ll be on our way.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Michael arrived home just as Becky was preparing to leave for work the next morning. She heard his key fumbling in the lock then he crashed the door back on its hinges before running up the hallway. “Becky! I just got your messages! Are you okay?”

  She gazed at him with sleep-deprived eyes. She’d been unable to sleep after the police left, jumping nervously at the slightest noise, and she’d spent the rest of the night on the sofa with the TV on for company. She’d missed the small comfort of Lucifer desperately, and Michael too of course. “I called you several times from Sandra’s phone and I left you a message each time. My phone battery was flat.” She picked her phone up from the counter and dropped it into her bag. “It’s charged now but you didn’t call me back.”

  “How was I to know that it was you calling? I switched my phone to silent because I didn’t recognize the number. I thought they were crank calls. What happened? I didn’t understand your messages – did someone break in or not?”