My heart belly-flopped. “Like where?”
“Like Austin, Texas.”
“Texas? But that’s so far away.”
“I know. But there are job opportunities there. I hear it’s nice,” she said. “Their motto is Keep Austin Weird. That’s kinda cool, don’t ya think?”
“I’ve heard it’s expensive there.”
“It’s cheaper than here.”
“What about the weather? I hear it floods there. And gets super hot and humid in the summer. And the bugs are humongous. And there are bats everywhere. Millions of them. And tornadoes too. Blizzards. Monsoons.”
“Just about anywhere we move will have real weather. Unlike here.”
“What about your parents? Have you told them?”
“Yeah. Mom cried. They’re so attached to the kids. It’ll kill them.”
It’ll kill me too.
Pop told me the insurance agent called to say the contractors would be at my house the next morning at eight.
“He said it’ll only take a few days. That means, if all goes according to plan, you can be back in your own bed by the weekend. But the more I think about it, scratch that time estimate. The area rugs and upholstered furniture have to be cleaned. The floors will need sanding and refinishing and then they’ll need to dry. You can’t be breathing those fumes, so it may be more like Monday or Tuesday before you’re back in the house. They’re also going to patch the hole under the eaves so the rodents can’t get in anymore.”
Part of me couldn’t wait to go home—to get back to normal. Whatever that is. But I also felt apprehensive about being alone in my house. Not because I thought Erin would sneak in and finish me off, but what if (please don’t laugh) the house was now haunted by Tyler? Aren’t ghosts usually someone who met with a violent, sudden end and aren’t ready to cross over?
I used to watch The Ghost Whisperer. The show was based on an actual person who communicates with the dead and helps them cross into the light. What if Tyler’s spirit is stuck in my home?
Maybe I should put the house on the market. Sell it and start fresh. Oh, who am I kidding? Nobody’s going to buy a haunted house.
Chapter Thirty-Four
COINS AND CADAVERS
FRIDAY • FEBRUARY 27
Posted by Katy McKenna
Wednesday, February 25
I wanted to give myself at least an hour at my house before the contractors showed up. When I pulled into the driveway shortly after seven, Josh was sitting on the porch steps waving a blue mug of steamy coffee. “Latte for my lady.”
I sipped the sweet ambrosia peering over the brim at my hot Viking, thinking, He can’t get any better because he’s already perfect.
“A buddy of mine is coming over to help. I don’t want you straining your back, and I know your arms and shoulders are still pretty sore.” He glanced down the street. “That’s him coming around the corner. I think you’ll like this guy.”
A yellow VW convertible cruised toward us, and guess who was waving from the driver’s seat: Justin Fargate, from the Jane Austen Book Club.
“Surprise!” Justin hopped out and grabbed me in a bear hug, then stepped back and gave me a boo-hoo face. “You poor thing. Chloe sends her love. We miss you at the book club. You made it so lively.”
If you’ve been following my blog for a while, then you know why I’m no longer a member, but Justin doesn’t know why and I can never tell him.
“Love your new look,” I said.
He raked his fingers through his trendy dandy-hipster do. “It was Chloe’s idea.”
“How is she?”
Justin clasped his hands in mock prayer, eyes to the sky. “Preggers. Can you believe it?”
When I met Justin, I thought for sure he was a gay man, and I could not fathom his relationship with his girlfriend—a cute Audrey-Hepburn-clone. But I was wrong. He’s simply a dear man who’s in touch with his feminine side. Very in touch.
“When’s the baby due?” I asked.
“Our little girl is due on Father’s Day. Is that a hoot or what?”
“Ohhh. You’re having a girl.”
“Yes. And we’re having so much fun decorating for our little princess. Pink, pink, and more pink.” He waggled his left ring finger at me. “Notice anything?”
“Oh, my God!” I said. “Did you two tie the knot?”
“We did. We slipped away to Zephyr Cove in Lake Tahoe and got hitched. It was so romantic.”
“How do you and Josh know each other?” I asked.
“We used to be on a bowling team,” said Josh. “Justin was our ace in the hole.”
The barrel-chested man rolled his eyes. “Oh please. You exaggerate.”
“Seriously. This guy’s average was around two-fifty.” Josh punched the big man in the arm.
“More like two-sixty-five, but who’s counting,” said Justin, checking his watch. “If the contractors are due here at eight, we need to get this show on the road.”
In the hallway, Justin glanced at the ceiling, shaking his head. “Oh, sweetie. Josh told me what happened. What an awful, awful ordeal. I’m surprised I didn’t see it on the news.”
“The police are afraid that if my cousin knows I’m still alive, she might try to harm me.”
“Nobody’s going to hear it from me.” Justin ran his fingers over his mouth. “My lips are sealed.”
Josh scrubbed his hands together. “We better get to it.”
I opened the French doors to the patio. “I thought we could put everything out there. There’s no rain in the forecast, so it should be safe.”
“Girl, there’s never any rain in the forecast,” said Justin. “Until I wash my car, that is.”
“Or put indoor furniture outside,” I said.
The men headed to my favorite overstuffed chair, and I began removing the seat cushions from the couch. I sniffed the cushion I’d been sitting on when Erin had threatened to shoot my toe and caught the rank odor of dried urine. Josh noticed and gave me a questioning look.
“Smells like one of the pets had an accident. Thank goodness everything’s going to be cleaned.” I carried it outside and set it on the patio table. Back inside, I picked up the third cushion, and something clanked on the floor. It was the coin I’d tried to sell on Amazon.
“I can’t believe it. I must not have put it back in the safe.” I slipped it into my pocket, praying that the person who’d contacted me on Amazon was still interested.
Within twenty minutes, the living and dining rooms were empty. We didn’t need to clear out my bedroom. There were only a few holes in the wall, and they could be patched easily.
“Anything else I can help with before I go?” said Justin. “My shift at the hospital doesn’t start until eleven.”
“Nothing I can think of. I appreciate you coming over to help,” I said. “I owe you.”
He tapped his chin, surveying the gutted walls. “What a shame. Do you think they were looking for something?”
“Who knows?” said Josh. “But I discovered something interesting inside one of the walls.” We followed him to the kitchen table. “These old newspapers were tucked behind the wood lath for insulation.”
I read the date on one. “October 5, 1931. Well, now I know my house’s birthday. And this explains why my house runs hot and cold. Lousy insulation.”
“Other than a little yellowed, the papers are in good shape,” said Justin. “Might be fun to frame some.”
“I love that idea,” I said.
“What about wall color?” said Justin. “You know wallpaper is very popular again. Maybe something bold and splashy to jazz up the place.”
“Actually, I’m thinking of going with white. I’ve always had a lot of color, but I need it to be completely different now.”
“Ooo. I’m seeing everything white. It’s fresh. Very cottagy.” Justin waved his arms at the furniture on the patio. “Slipcover the sofa and chairs. And you could milk-paint all the oak furniture.”
&n
bsp; “They’re all flea market finds, and I love them, but not crazy about oak. Maybe I’ll do that.”
“I’d love to help,” said Justin. “Now, I’m going to scoot.” He gave me squeeze. “Seriously, girl. Call me. I know Chloe would love to see you.”
We escorted Justin to his car, and after he had driven away, I showed Josh the gold coin.
“Oh, honey, I’m so happy for you,” he said. “What a lucky find.”
He kissed my forehead, and one of my rowdy neighbors across the street shouted through a window, “Get a room!”
I yelled, “Get a life!” Then back to Josh, “I’m dying to know if the buyer is still interested. I left my laptop at my folks, and I don’t want to do it on my phone.”
“You can use my computer, and I’ll wait for the contractors.”
“What about Nicole? I don’t want to bother her.”
“Don’t worry about it. She’s probably still asleep, anyway.” He gave me an amorous leer. “How about we give our neighbors something to shout about?”
After a smooshy Hollywood kiss that elicited lots of hoots and hollers, I staggered to Josh’s house and tiptoed inside. He has an antique Arts and Crafts era desk tucked in the corner of the living room, with an iMac on it. As I was pulling out the chair, Nicole peeked out from the kitchen.
“I thought I heard a little mouse sneaking around out here.”
I told her about finding the coin.
“That’s wonderful,” she said.
“How’re you doing? You gave us quite a fright the other night.”
“I’ve never felt that awful before. I thought I was going to die. Gives me chills just thinking about it now, and yet at the time, I wanted to let go and be done with it.” She tugged her cardigan sweater tighter and crossed her arms. “This has been much harder than I anticipated.”
“It’ll be worth it. I mean, you have a good prognosis, right?”
Nicole took my hand and led me to the couch. She hung her head, wringing her hands in her lap. “I told Josh I had an eighty to ninety percent five-year recovery prognosis.”
My heart sank. “So what’s the real prognosis?”
She clasped a hand over her mouth, looking away. “More like twenty-to-thirty percent. They say they got it all, but, you know, when cancer metastasizes…. Anyway, that’s why I’m doing the radiation, too.”
“Oh, Nicole. I don’t know what to say.” Then I began filling the air with nonsense platitudes that no one in her shoes wants to hear. “Well, thirty percent is doable. I mean it’s not like you’re ninety-five years old. You’re young and in good health, except for the damned cancer. You can win this. And hell, what do doctors know, anyway?”
She gave me a wan smile. “You’re right. But it’s so damned hard. I felt fine. Absolutely fine, other than sore from the surgery, until I started the chemotherapy and radiation. Just the thought of going back for another round makes me feel sick.”
I took her icy hand and warmed it between mine. “We’re here for you. We’ll help you get through this. But Nicole, you need to tell Josh the truth. He needs to know.”
“Josh is so lucky to have found you. I hate the fact that I’m taking so much of his time away from you.”
“It’s okay. We have our whole future ahead of us.” As soon as I said that, I wanted to rip my tongue out. So thoughtless.
“Yes, you do.” She set her other hand over mine. “And you’re right. I need to tell him.”
The contractors didn’t show up until after nine. A phone call would’ve been nice. Josh went home, and after I had gone over everything with the foreman, I drove to my folks’ house to grab my laptop. Turns out, Sixpence had countered with an offer of $6,150. That was close enough for me. Sold!
I called Ruby, Mom, and Pop and invited them to dinner at The Green Door, a fancy, upscale restaurant downtown. Pop begged off—his knee was killing him, but the ladies were on board. I would have asked Josh, but after my conversation with Nicole, I thought he should stay with her.
I returned to my house, and in the early afternoon, the floor refurbishing guys showed up. I wasn’t looking forward to having the wood floors sanded, re-stained, then polyurethaned. Thankfully, they said the floors would look good as new with a thorough cleaning and polish.
Mom and I drove in my car to pick up Ruby for our dinner date. As we approached the Shady Acres security booth, the skinny guard stepped out. “Hold it. Hold it.” George held up a hand like he was stopping a line of traffic.
“Oh brother. Here we go again,” I muttered.
“Try to be patient, honey. He means well. He just takes his responsibilities very seriously.”
“I know. But he’s worse than ever these days.” I rolled down my window. “Hi, George. We’re here to pick up my grandma.”
He stepped to my window clutching his clipboard. “Gonna need to see some identification.”
“Seriously, George? You know who I am. I come here all the time. So does my mom.”
“Just doing my job, ma’am.” He hoisted up his belt and patted his pepper spray holster with an arrogant sniff. “These days, can’t take any chances. You never know who might be a terrorist or a crazy lunatic.”
I sifted through my bag for my wallet. “This is ridiculous. I am not a terrorist.” I held out the open wallet. “See? It’s still me.”
He shined his flashlight on it. “And the nature of your business?”
“Like I said, I’m picking up my grandmother.”
He waited, eyebrow cocked.
“Ruby Armstrong.”
“Is she expecting you?”
“Oh, for God’s sakes, George,” said Mom. “It’s none of your business. But if you must know, Katy is taking us to dinner.”
“No need to get huffy, ma’am.” He scanned his clipboard. “I don’t see your names on here. I’m going to have to call Mrs. Armstrong to confirm.” He stepped inside his booth.
“George,” I said. “I’m going through now.”
“I haven’t called your grandmother yet.”
“Too bad.” I stomped on the gas and we peeled out, breaking the fifteen-mile-per-hour speed limit by five more.
“Well, now you’ve gone and done it,” said Mom. “You do realize we have to drive back through?”
“Yeah, but it felt so good.”
“Kinda like Thelma and Louise, huh?”
Granny was standing on her porch, talking on her cellphone when I pulled up. “Yes, George. You’re right. My granddaughter is a juvenile delinquent.” She got in the backseat, still on the phone, and after she buckled up, we headed back to Checkpoint George.
As we closed in on the booth, Ruby held her hand over the cellphone. “Don’t stop.” She returned to her conversation. “Yes, George. I agree. Kids these days have no respect for authority.”
I watched his narrow back through the booth window, arms gesturing wildly as I rolled by, waving and honking. In my rearview mirror, I saw him run out, flapping his arms. I’m such a bad-ass juvie.
I was up half that night, partly because I indulged in dessert at The Green Door. Flambéed peaches and bananas with sea salt caramel ice cream and Grand Marnier whipped cream. Who could say no to that? But maybe I should have shared.
The other reason I couldn’t nod off was that something was niggling my brain. I read somewhere that your brain is functioning at its best during slow, deep breathing. I inhaled, thinking, Is it something I should remember about Erin? The money? What?
I exhaled, straining my pea-brain. If I were Erin, what would I do?
I sat up and switched on the bedside lamp, disturbing Daisy and Tabitha. “Sorry, kiddos. Mama thought of something, and I need to check it out.”
I piled the pillows behind me, flipped open my laptop, went to Google Maps, and typed in Cranston Lane in Atherton, CA. I zoomed in with the satellite view. The homes were large, and the lots looked to be at least one or more acres.
“I wonder which one was her grandparents’ home.”
I clicked on street view and strolled along, admiring the charming tree-lined lane. Couldn’t see much of the houses with them set behind walls, hedges, and security gates. I typed in “Houses for sale in Atherton, CA” and got Twillow, one of those sites that lists houses.
“Holy cow. Here’s a two-bedroom, one and a half bath house for 2.5 million bucks.”
It was built in 1938 on a quarter acre lot and was storybook enchanting in a charming shady neighborhood, but over two million? Good grief. My house was built in 1931 and has three bedrooms, two full baths, and a creepy attic. I paid a mere fraction of that price, and thought it was too much.
I scrolled down the listing. “Oh, well, here’s the reason.” The price per square foot was nearly $1,400. Guess I won’t be buying a house up there. Who can afford that?
I could have if Erin hadn’t stolen my money. That thought led me to a crazy idea. “No. She wouldn’t dare do that. Would she?”
I searched recent home sales in the area, and Twillow came up again. This time at least one hundred yellow circles indicated recent sales with prices ranging from 2.2 million to the-sky’s-the-limit.
There were photos in the right sidebar of the page, and most of the homes were ranchers and two-stories, not mega-mansions. No sales showed up on Cranston Lane. I was relieved that my crazy idea had been just that. Crazy.
Chapter Thirty-Five
COINS AND CADAVERS
MONDAY • MARCH 2
Posted by Katy McKenna
This morning was moving-back-in-day! Josh and Justin Fargate did the heavy lifting, while my folks and I did the directing. I’d intended to put the furniture back in its original positions, but Mom and Pop had different ideas. Good ideas. Things I never would have thought of that made the space feel more open and yet cozier.
Murder Blog Mysteries Boxed Collection Page 69
