She looked up when she heard a key in the door. Her heart gave an uncomfortable lurch. She hurried out into the entranceway as Michael walked inside. “Oh, it’s you.”
“Who else would it be?” He had a silly grin on his face and she could see he was hiding something behind his back.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
He pulled his hand out from behind his back and thrust a cold, damp bundle of black fur into her arms. “Look who I’ve found. He’s skinny but he seems okay.”
“Lucifer? Lucifer!” She was laughing and crying at once. She hugged the cat to her, kissing him all over his furry little head. “Where did you find him?”
“He walked out of the bushes as I got out of the car, meowing at me as if everything was all my fault.” Michael’s lips twitched. “I seem to be attracting those sorts of accusations from the people around me lately.”
“I can’t believe it! Where do you think he was all this time?” She lifted the purring cat up and stared into his face. “Where have you been? Talk to me!”
“We’ll probably never know. Perhaps the old lady who adopted him died.” He slapped her on the bottom and walked through into the kitchen. “Want a drink?”
“No, I mean yes. Yes, I will have a wine. I was about to pour myself one.” She carried Lucifer through and opened the cupboard to look for a can of cat food. “I was going to throw these out. I’m so glad I didn’t.”
“He’s a lucky black cat, aren’t you Lucifer?” Michael scratched the cat’s ears. “Maybe you should change his name.”
Becky filled Lucifer’s dish and sat on the floor with him as he ate. “I honestly thought he was dead.” She held out her wrist in front of the disinterested animal. “Look, I even got a tattoo in your memory.”
“Ugh, that tattoo.” Michael passed her a glass of wine and walked out into the living room. “Come and sit with me when you’re done fawning over that ungrateful creature.”
Soon Lucifer was curled up asleep on his usual spot on the sofa while Becky and Michael sat facing each other in the recliner armchairs. Becky happily watched Lucifer sleeping for several minutes while Michael sat in silence, lost in his own thoughts.
“The neighbor’s dog was barking before. He must’ve been barking at Lucifer.”
“That dog barks at anything. Even a falling leaf isn’t safe.”
She remembered the phone call. “I received an odd call not long before you got home. It was a woman but she refused to give me her name. She said my man was dancing with danger.”
Michael frowned. “What? It must’ve been a wrong number.”
“I don’t know if it was.” She kept her gaze fixed steadily on him. “She said he, who I assumed to be you, should watch where he’s putting his fingers.”
“Crank call.” He stood up and held his hand out for her glass. “Do you want me to get you another one?” She passed him the glass but she stood up to follow him back to the kitchen. “You don’t think it was anything to worry about?”
“What, the phone call? No. From what you’ve told me, she didn’t say anything that made any sense.”
“I guess you’re right.” She watched him refill their glasses. “Sasha and Chad are having marital problems.”
“Yeah?” He raised his eyebrows as he picked up a cloth to mop up the small spill of wine he’d made on the bench. “That’s not good.”
“No. Someone has it in for Sasha, too. The newspaper gossip column ran a snippy paragraph about the redheaded realtor seen around town with Jerome Saunders. It made it sound as if there was something underhand going on but Sasha is only handling his property sale. There’s nothing more to it. She’s not handling him.”
“Jerome Saunders is selling up?”
“He wants to sell the Arlington Heights house along with a couple of his condos. He’s downsizing his property portfolio and moving into stocks and shares. Sasha is delighted to have such a high profile sale and it will be good for the agency. She said he’s a shocking flirt and I expected as much, but I believe her when she says there’s nothing going on between them. I wonder if it was a rival property agency that passed on the rumor to the newspaper?” Becky knew all too well of the bitchy tactics that were often prevalent in the property trade, especially in competitive times with a limited market pool. However, the market was booming at present – there should be plenty enough to go around for everyone.
“Don’t believe everything you read in the newspaper.” He dropped the empty wine bottle into the recycling bin. “What are we doing about dinner? I could make pasta.”
“If you like. Yes, that would be nice. There was something about you in the newspaper today, too.” She grinned, teasing him now. “It talked about the work you were doing with the homeless and it was very positive. Should I not believe that either?”
He returned her grin before leaning in close and kissing her hard. “Cheeky wench. How about we have dinner and have an early night? It’s been a while.”
“It has been a while. Hurry up with that pasta.” She ran her tongue slowly over her lower lip, teasing him now. “I might need the energy for later.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Becky was in and out of the office most of the next day, just missing Sasha each time she dropped back in. She spoke to her on the phone once but Sasha said she was about to walk into a meeting and couldn’t talk. Alice was reserved and quiet, obediently taking messages and working on the filing backlog. Becky hoped it was the same when she wasn’t in the office to supervise whatever the girl was or wasn’t doing.
She left Alice another stack of typing to do and left the office just after lunch, this time for a property appraisal in the fast growing suburb of Camas. It seemed that much of Portland was fast growing these days, especially if the property books of Monroe & Freeman were any indication of the trend.
She stopped at the pharmacy to pick up some cranberry tablets on the way to the appraisal. She’d been running for the toilet most of the morning and the vague, burning sensation in her lower pelvis signified that something was up. She hadn’t suffered a UTI in years. She was probably overdue for her turn to have one again, not that she was very impressed by the thought. Who had the time for bladder infections? That would teach her for allowing herself to become so run down.
She phoned Michael once she was back in the car, just wanting to hear his voice more than anything. After their robust session of lovemaking last night she felt as if things were finally returning to normal between them. He’d been attentive, passionate, and fiercely into her, staring into her eyes as they made love. She shivered deliciously at the memory. Yes, it felt as if their relationship was back on the right track.
The Camas property was a storybook gabled house with an attractive front garden and a view of Mt. Hood. It would be an easy house to sell. Becky loved it when the vendors made her life easy. She tucked her folder under her arm and walked up the gently sloping path to the front door, admiring the maintained lawns and charming front porch. The two porch chairs with hand crocheted cushions indicated this house might belong to an older couple but she hadn’t spoken to the owner herself. Alice had taken the call and given Becky the details, and Becky had asked her to phone the caller back to make an appointment for her to drop by.
Even the doorknocker, a comical brass gargoyle holding the knocker ring in its mouth, was charming. She tucked her hair behind her ear and waited. She still hadn’t made an appointment with the hairdresser. Maybe Zoe could squeeze her in on the salon’s late night. Becky wiggled uncomfortably. Her UTI symptoms hadn’t abated yet. She needed to pop some more tablets as soon as she was back in the car.
The door suddenly opened and she found herself smiling up into Gordon Blakely’s face. “Oh, Gordon! It’s you. I had my P.A. make an appointment with Mr. Blakely but I never stopped to think it might be you.”
Gordon smiled nervously. He looked over her shoulder, as if he was worried she’d been followed, and stood back to allow her to ente
r the house. “Annie said I should use your agency. She really liked you, Becky.”
“And I really liked her.” The house smelled stuffy. It smelled like old people, as Sasha had a bad habit of saying. “Are the two of you still seeing each other?”
He smiled properly for the first time. “Yes, we are. We’re both so glad we went to the retreat and meet each other. Do you know it’s closing down?”
“No, I didn’t know that. I tried to get hold of Marian a while back but Lucy said her father was ill. Is the closure anything to do with that?”
“Apparently so. Marian is moving in with her father to nurse him and the retreat is closing for the foreseeable future. Maybe she should call you about marketing it for her if she does decide to sell?”
“Maybe.” They were in the living room now and Becky looked around. This was definitely an old person’s home, unless Gordon had severely vintage tastes in furnishings. “Do you live here?”
“No. It’s my parents’ house. Dad died last year and Mom went into a rest home a few weeks back. She made me her executor and we need to sell the house. I have the proper legal paperwork to show you that I’m entitled to sell it.”
“Good. I’ll need to see that. Would you like to show me around? It’s an amazing location and the grounds are gorgeous.”
“Yes, we still have her old gardener coming in each week. I think he thinks the gardens are his own personal property. Come through to the kitchen.”
“Have you considered using a staging company for the photos and buyer showings? I think the service could really lift this home and show it off to its best advantage.”
Becky was dying to go to the toilet again by the time she left the property. She’d wanted to ask Gordon if she could use the bathroom, with its crocheted toilet roll cover and thin grey and pink towels but she didn’t want to seem unprofessional. Her bladder was burning and she now had a slight headache. She was annoyed at herself for not asking – the entire world needed to use a bathroom so it wasn’t as if she was asking to do anything strange or out of place. She wiggled in her seat as she drove down to a gas station she’d seen earlier in order to use their filthy public restrooms, cursing herself again for not asking Gordon back at the house.
Sasha was at her desk when Becky returned to the office. She glanced up as Becky opened the door but she didn’t smile. She looked back at her computer and offered a cool hello.
“Busy day?” Becky dropped her folders on her own desk and glanced curiously at her friend. Sasha wasn’t the moody type but she could be feeling tense due to her ongoing problems with Chad.
“Mmmm.”
“Is Alice out?”
“Yes, she’s gone down to the printers for me.” Sasha pushed her chair back from her desk and crossed her arms. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Uh, I’m doing five minutes of office work before I have to take some buyers through a property at 5.30.” She frowned at her friend. “What’s wrong?”
Sasha held up one of the many colored sticky notes that covered the office. “What’s this?”
“It’s a phone number. Sasha, what are you talking about?”
“Alice said she took a message from that client of yours from Aloha. Jill. She wanted to speak to a realtor urgently and I told Alice I’d call her back because you were out. Alice didn’t know which of the sticky notes on your desk was Jill’s number – she’d forgotten to write her name on it – but she did remember that it was pink.” Sasha waved the pink sticky note ominously. “This isn’t Jill’s number.”
“Alice needs to take more care. Random numbers floating around the office are of no use to anyone. I can ring Jill. Her number is in my phone.” Becky took off her coat, wondering why Sasha was making such a fuss. It was annoying, yes, but it wasn’t the end of the world. She scrabbled through her handbag for her cranberry tablets. “I have a UTI.”
“I rang the number,” Sasha continued in the same frosty tone. “It’s the number for the newspaper’s offices.”
“Oh, I thought I’d thrown that away after I spoke to them.” Becky downed a handful of tablets and chased them down with some water from her bottle.
“Why did you need to call them? It seems odd that you had the newspaper’s number on your desk just when that awful piece about me and Jerome appeared in the paper.”
“What? Don’t be ridiculous! I called them to put an ad in the Lost and Found column about Lucifer. He came back, by the way. He just turned up as if he’d never been away.” The burning, pressurized feeling in her bladder was increasing. Should she make an appointment to see the doctor? Did she have time to see the doctor today?
Sasha looked sheepish as she crumpled the note in her hand. “So it wasn’t you?”
Becky laughed, incredulous that Sasha would think such a thing although she was feeling far too uncomfortable to linger too long on it right now. “Sash! As if I’d ever do that! Goodness, you’re getting paranoid in your old age.” She jiggled past Sasha’s desk with her legs pressed tightly together. “I can’t believe I have to go to the toilet again!”
Chapter Twenty-Six
The tablets, along with a couple of Tylenol, had finally performed their magic by the time Becky finished the 5.30 showing. She crossed her fingers, hoping that would be the end of it. A doctor’s appointment was not part of her schedule this week and taking a course of antibiotics always upset her stomach. However, despite not needing to pee so much she still felt uncomfortable down there. If Michael decided he wanted a repeat performance of last night’s antics she would have to tell him no.
Michael phoned her just as she turned the corner into their street and she answered with a smile. Hi, sweetheart.”
“Hey, sexy.”
“Are you on your way home?”
“No, unfortunately. I’ve just stepped out of a meeting to call you. I’ll stay at the hotel tonight – this meeting will go late and then we’re having drinks with the manufacturing crowd again.”
“Okay.” She pulled into their driveway and turned off the car. She stared at the front door, feeling the first stirrings of dread. “I’m not sure how I feel about staying at the house by myself tonight. This will be the first time I’ve been alone here since the break in.”
“Lock the door, cuddle up to your cat and you’ll be fine. Why don’t you ask Sasha to stay over?”
She was vaguely disappointed that he hadn’t offered to forgo staying in the hotel to be with her. “No, I’ll have a hot bath and an early night. I haven’t been feeling too well today.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Just a urinary tract infection. I think you might’ve been a bit too enthusiastic in bed last night.”
He growled seductively down the phone line. “But it was worth it, hey?”
“Maybe for you. It’s been difficult to function properly today with all the running to the toilet that I’ve had to do.”
“Look after yourself. An early night is probably a good idea. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
“Okay. I love you.” He’d already hung up and Becky tossed her phone into her handbag. It was all right for him with his less complicated plumbing system. Men just didn’t understand. She opened the car door and smiled as Lucifer ran across to greet her. “Hi, sweetie. Looks like it’s just you and Mommy home tonight.”
The hot bath definitely helped. Lucifer had even chosen to keep her company, sitting on the toilet cistern and watching her balefully as she relaxed in her tub of scented bubbles. She sipped at her glass of sparkling water, having decided to avoid wine until her UTI had passed. Maybe she’d give herself a pedicure when she’d finished bathing. A pedicure, a bowl of popcorn, and a girlie movie. It sounded perfect. She stood up, watching as the bubbles cascaded down her body. She’d definitely lost weight. Her little stomach pooch was gone. She ran her hand over the unfamiliar flat surface. At least some good had come out of the stresses of the past few weeks.
Lucifer followed her downstairs once she’d drie
d herself and pulled on her fluffy robe. The wind had picked up outside and was now howling eerily around the eaves. She went back to check the door was locked for the second time since she’d arrived home. She needed to stop feeling so nervous; the lock was set and the alarm was on. No one would get in without a great deal of difficulty, by which time she would’ve called the police.
She scooped up Lucifer, who was still trailing obsessively after her as the neighbors’ dog began to bark yet again. She’d spoken to Sandra next door as she was getting into her car this morning and Sandra had muttered darkly about calling Animal Control about the noise. Becky had sympathized with her as she knew was home all day with a small child. That constant barking would be frustrating if she had to listen to it from morning to night.
Becky had just made herself comfortable on the sofa when her mother phoned. She glanced at her phone and then at the movie that had just started playing, deliberating over whether to answer the call. Her Mom was sure to want to know when they were coming to visit and she didn’t have an answer for her yet as she’d booked a showing for both Saturday and Sunday this week. She was about to allow the call to go to the message service when she changed her mind and snatched up her phone at the last minute. “Hi, Mom.”
“Becky! I’m sorry I made you run to answer the phone.”
“That’s okay. You didn’t make me run.” She could picture her mother leaning up against the counter and speaking into the old-fashioned phone that had been attached to the wall since Becky was a child. She picked up the remote and paused the movie as Lucifer yawned and stretched on the sofa beside her. “How are you? How’s Dad?”
“We’re fine. Have you managed to free up your schedule enough to be able to pay us a visit on the weekend? I bought a lovely beef roast yesterday.”
Becky cringed. She was about to break her Mom’s heart yet again. “Mom, we can’t. I have two showings on the weekend and I know Michael is busy. It’s just not a good time for us.”
The Life Thief Page 12
