Organized to Death

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Organized to Death Page 3

by Jan Christensen

“Things will work out,” Charles said.

  “You always say that.” Crystal’s tone was sharp. She patted his hand. “Sorry.” She stood up and put on her coat, head down. She murmured goodbye as Charles took the last sip of his coffee and rushed to catch up with his wife.

  “Wow,” Brandon and Tina said at the same time as the door closed.

  Then they laughed.

  “Looks like you had quite a morning,” Brandon said.

  “It was interesting. One of the most unusual I’ve had in a long time.”

  “Messing around in other people’s messes.”

  “Ah! You don’t approve. I knew it! I was waiting for you to say something that would prove to me you don’t like the idea of professional organizing.” He sounded just like her mother.

  “No, it’s not that I disapprove. I have doubts, that’s all.”

  “Come on, Brandon. You mess around in other people’s lives all the time. And they’ve often broken the law, or they’re in some kind of mess. Much worse than an unorganized home or office.”

  He shook his head. “I hate to admit it, but you have a point.” He gave a rueful laugh.

  “But you’re a guy, and I’m a woman. You’re so old-fashioned, you know that?”

  “Yeah. I know. Can’t help it. Maybe I’d like to create the home life I’ve never had.”

  Tina stared at him. That was more insight than she expected from Brandon. “You still don’t know where your mother disappears to every so often?”

  “Haven’t a clue. I’ve even thought of hiring a private investigator to follow her. But I can’t do it. What if she found out?”

  “You think your father knows? And Leslie?”

  “I’m pretty sure Dad does. And he hates it. He hardly talks to me or Leslie when Mom’s gone, or to her when she gets back. I’m not sure if my dear sister knows or not.”

  Sometimes Tina found her mother difficult, but she couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have her disappear periodically for weeks on end with no explanation. Brandon’s mother had been doing that since he attended grammar school.

  “She’s doing it less lately, it seems,” Brandon said.

  “Well, that’s good.” Tina took his hand. He clasped hers so tightly, she had to hide a wince.

  “Yeah, but since it’s always been a secret,” he said, “I have to believe it’s not a good one.”

  Tina’s thoughts were interrupted when she saw Laura hang up the phone. Uncle Bob put away his sponge, and they both sat down again.

  “That was Mitzi,” Laura said. “Asking if I’d heard.”

  Hank’s mother. One of the Lunch Bunch. Tina nodded and continued her story. “Rachel did call me, and I went back to her house. We worked for a couple of hours, then needed a place to put the boxes we’d sorted, and she took me to the nursery.”

  Laura shuddered, and Uncle Bob stood up to get the now-cooled cookie tray and sat back down again. “What are you going to do now?” he asked as he wiped down the cookie sheet with shortening and began to put mounds of dough on it.

  “Go sulk in my room, I guess,” Tina said.

  “That’s my girl. I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.”

  “Um, thanks, I think.” She went up the back stairs, laughing.

  “You better show more respect, missy,” Uncle Bob said, but she knew he was smiling. The thump of Princess’s tail grew fainter as she walked down the hall to her bedroom.

  CHAPTER 6

  The phone rang when Tina entered her room, and she plopped herself on her high, canopy bed, kicked off her shoes, and answered it.

  “Hey, Red,” Hank greeted her.

  “Hello, Hank,” she said carefully, but sank back onto the pillows, melting now from different feelings. Feelings she didn’t want to have.

  “I heard about Crystal. You found her?”

  “How’d you hear?”

  “That’s not important. You’re what’s important. Are you okay?”

  If she melted any more, she’d be a puddle. Most unsuitable, she heard her mother’s voice in her head. Hank had no visible means of support, and Tina’s mother recoiled at the very thought of him and her daughter together. But Hank did something for a living—Tina knew that—because sometimes he was totally unavailable, and he had enough money to live nicely. Not lavishly, but nicely. Sometimes Tina wished she knew what he did, but she’d long since stopped asking him. He was both noncommittal and evasive and always seemed annoyed.

  “I’m all right. Rachel isn’t doing so well.”

  “They were close,” Hank said. “It will be hard for her.”

  “Yes. And she had to move out, did you know that? The police won’t let them stay in the house while they investigate.”

  “Normal procedure,” Hank said.

  “Oh?”

  “See it all the time on TV.”

  “I haven’t.”

  “You hardly ever watch TV.”

  “Well, I didn’t know you were such a fan of television, either. My opinion of you has just gone down a notch.”

  “How high was it to begin with? And I didn’t know you were a TV snob.”

  Tina grinned. Was there just a hint of concern about her opinion of him there?

  “I’m not. I have my favorite programs.”

  “Yeah, on the Discovery Channel. And the History Channel. You are a television snob.”

  “Oh, well.” Tina laughed. “Anyway, Mr. Expert, when do you think Rachel and Nicky will be able to move back into their house? My first job has sort of been put on hold, here.”

  “How cluttered and dirty was her place?”

  “Not very dirty, actually. When I saw, going in, all the boxes piled to the ceiling in the hallway, I was afraid the whole place would be filthy. And it didn’t smell too good, but I think that was mostly mustiness from the boxes and stuff.”

  “When the police get finished tearing everything apart to search, your job will be even more interesting. You’ll have to charge double.”

  “John said they wouldn’t put everything back, but that’s not right,” Tina sputtered, trying to imagine what it was going to look like and failing.

  “They don’t have time to put everything back the way it was, doll.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Still not right.”

  “You are so rigid sometimes.”

  Yes, she knew that. Which was one reason why she was so careful about Hank. They’d met in first grade, gone all the way through school together. Even back then, he’d been secretive. They’d hung out with a group of other kids, and it seemed they were always drawn to each other, but Tina resisted. He had never made a move on her. Sometimes she wished he would. The rest of the time she was glad he didn’t.

  “I need to go,” he said.

  “Where?” She loved pushing him to reveal something, but he hardly ever did.

  “Around.”

  “Around where?”

  “You’re cute.”

  Tina hated it when he said that. She had never been cute. She was always taller than the other girls, thin and gawky. Still tall at five foot nine, still thinner than she wanted to be, at least her face had turned out halfway decent. And she loved her curly red hair. She knew most women hated their hair, but hers made up for just about everything else. She liked to think of herself as sophisticated, though, not cute.

  “And you’re adorable,” she said, laughing.

  They hung up, and Tina lay there, thinking about Hank and about Rachel. When she started to think of Crystal, she told herself not to go there. She called her best friend, Leslie, Brandon’s sister, and told her about her day, then sat staring at the wall until Uncle Bob called her to dinner.

  Her mother sat at the head of the table while Uncle Bob brought in a platter of fish. Tina groaned to herself. The fish smell almost gagged her. It would be overdone and hard to swallow. The baked potatoes had been cooked in the microwave, and there would be hard spots in them. The green beans sat limp in their bowl, most of the color leache
d out of them from too much boiling. And the green pistachio salad put the final touch on the rest of the glorious meal. It looked like something made up for Halloween to goop in your hair. Tina guessed in a way she should be thankful. Dinners like this had helped keep her thin all these years.

  Tina sat on her mother’s right, and Uncle Bob took his place at the foot of the table near the kitchen door.

  They looked a bit alike, except her mother’s hair had faded a bit with age. Laura was five foot four inches and full-figured. She made up for their poor meals with bonbons and crackers and cheese. She lavished a lot of care on her pretty face. She never left her bedroom without being, as she put it, totally put together. Tina admired her for that, but she also felt impatient with the time it took, so Tina wore little makeup except some lipstick and hardly any jewelry except when going out in the evening.

  Laura started right in. “I told you that this job was a ridiculous idea. Cleaning up other people’s messes.” Laura made a face and spooned some green beans onto her plate. Tina couldn’t tell if the face was for her new job or the beans or both.

  “For heaven’s sake, Laura, I doubt most jobs will include a murdered woman in the nursery, or a butchered baker in the kitchen, or a bludgeoned butler in—”

  “We get the idea.” Laura cut up a piece of fish and placed it in her mouth.

  Tina poked at the haddock on her plate, almost wishing she could poke her mother instead.

  “Why don’t you go back to college?” Laura said. “URI, for example. You can commute to Providence from here.”

  Uncle Bob and Tina looked at her, their mouths open.

  “She’s already had seven years of college,” Uncle Bob said. “I’d think that would be enough for anyone.”

  “But she’s not using that education now. I’ve been doing a bit of research. I even sent for a catalog.” And she whipped it out of her lap.

  Uncle Bob and Tina exchanged glances.

  “You can still surprise me, Laura,” Uncle Bob said.

  Laura smiled. “Good. I asked them to send information about their courses.” She handed Tina the catalog.

  Tina glanced at it. “Oh, look, a course in Criminal Justice. Now, that might be interesting.”

  “That’s not what I had in mind,” Laura snapped.

  “Of course not,” Uncle Bob murmured. Princess’s tail slapped the floor.

  “If you insist on working, Tina, you should be doing something respectable.”

  “All work is respectable. Helping people organize their space and their time is a more practical aspect of using my degrees.” She stood up, put her napkin carefully on the table. “Thanks for making dinner, Uncle Bob.” She climbed the main staircase and went to her room.

  She still clutched the catalog in her hand, and she glanced through it. Seemed dull, but when she thought of Rachel’s house, her heart sank. It would take weeks, maybe months, to straighten all that out. And it would be hard, dirty work. Perhaps Mother was right. She should look at other options.

  That thought brought her up short, but before she could pursue it, the phone rang.

  Laura and Tina picked it up on the second ring. “Hi, Tina, it’s Brandon.” Tina heard the click as her mother hung up.

  She’d been dating Brandon off and on since eleventh grade, but he still announced his name every time he called.

  “I just heard about Crystal,” he said. “Are you okay?”

  And solicitous. Almost overbearingly so. Much like her mother, Tina realized again. She sighed, but to herself.

  “I’m fine. Rachel isn’t so fine, and of course, Crystal … “She let her voice trail off.

  “Well, you can’t continue with that job now. It would be too much for you.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I said, you can’t continue—”

  “I heard you, Brandon. I just can’t believe you said it. Rachel needs my help more than ever, now.”

  “I don’t see why.”

  “Then let me list the ways. Decluttering will take her mind off Crystal. She’ll feel better about herself once it’s done. Nicky will feel better about Rachel. Their whole life together will be better.”

  “Maybe all that’s true, Tina, but I think it will be too much for you. Especially for a first job.”

  “And how would you expect me to tell Rachel I’m quitting?”

  “Well, with your usual diplomatic style,” Brandon said.

  But his usual charm wasn’t working.

  “Brandon, I’m not quitting. If you have a problem with that, I’m sorry. Now, I have some things to do. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “But, Tina—”

  “Good night, Brandon.” She hung up. She felt battered, first by her mother, and now by Brandon.

  A walk would do her good—clear her head, get the blood pumping. She went down the front stairs, figuring she’d better tell either Uncle Bob or her mother she was going out.

  They were still in the kitchen, cleaning up. Laura looked at her with disapproval. She didn’t like Tina going for walks after dark. Actually, Tina thought she’d prefer her to stay in after dark entirely. She insisted Tina carry pepper spray and stay alert.

  Tina grabbed her winter coat from the hall closet and stepped out the front door. A shadowy figure leaning against the old maple tree in the front yard straightened up as she approached. Hands in her jacket pockets, Tina’s grip on the pepper spray tightened. The urge to turn around and run back inside was strong, but she made herself keep walking.

  “Hello, Tina,” the man said.

  Gooseflesh rose on her arms. “Who are you?” she asked.

  CHAPTER 7

  “Ted Hockmann.”

  “Who?” Tina asked, shivering in the cold night air.

  “Ted Hockmann.” He stepped into the light, and she recognized Dr. Hockmann. He’d taken over old Dr. Stevenson’s practice a few months ago, and she’d gone to see him for her yearly exam. She blushed. She so did not want to talk to Dr. Hockmann.

  “Oh, Doctor,” she said, realizing he’d called her by her first name. Since she’d become an adult, she didn’t like that. She admitted he was one of the most handsome men she’d ever met. Way over six feet, slim, and elegant with fine, chiseled features and piercing blue eyes. Blond hair. Yum. Except for some reason, he creeped her out. He stood there, not saying anything more. Her hand tightened on the pepper spray. Her mind told her she was being ridiculous, but all her mother’s past warnings clanged in her brain.

  “Nice to see you,” he said, finally.

  “Um, you too,” she squeaked.

  “Going for a walk?”

  “Yes.”

  “Mind if I join you?”

  Yes, her mind screamed. “No,” she said. “That would be fine.” He was a doctor after all. They knew each other, sort of.

  They fell into step. “I live just two doors down from you, you know, in the conversion to condos,” he said.

  “No, I didn’t know that.” Her voice was still too high.

  “Yes. Just moved in a week ago. Do you often take walks at night?”

  He’s just being friendly, she told herself. “Sometimes.”

  “Interesting neighborhood. I hope eventually all the homes are renovated.”

  “That would be nice.”

  “Would increase the value, of course, but the main thing is how wonderful it would all look.”

  “Yes.”

  He was just being friendly, making conversation, she told herself again. They were neighbors, after all. They walked in silence for a while.

  “You work?” he asked abruptly.

  “Yes. I’m a professional organizer.”

  “Really? What’s that?”

  “I go to people’s homes or offices and help them clear out clutter and organize their space so they can put things away easily and find things when they need to, and just so it generally works better for them.” She was babbling. She hated feeling this nervous.

  “You do offices?�
��

  “Yes,” she said cautiously. He hadn’t been in practice long enough to need organizational help, had he?

  “I could use your help then. Dr. Stevenson left the place in a bit of disarray, and I don’t know quite where to begin to straighten it all out. I hired a receptionist and a nurse, of course, but they don’t seem to know what to do, either.”

  “It can be daunting,” she said.

  “Would you be interested in helping?”

  “Maybe. But I’m already working on a big project for another client. It’ll most likely take weeks.”

  “You work eight hours a day on only one project at a time?” he asked.

  “Well, no.” No client would want to work that long every day. She should have said she had several clients she was busy with. Why was she so reluctant to work for this man? Who knew when Rachel would be ready to get going again, if ever? Crystal’s death might send her into such a depression that she’d give up the whole idea.

  She seemed to be talking herself into helping him.“Would you at least come take a look and see how long you think it would take to straighten it out?” Dr. Hockmann stopped walking and faced her. A streetlight illuminated his handsome face. She had become leery of handsome guys in high school. Often so full of themselves. Hank was handsome, but in a rugged sort of way, and he never really seemed aware of it. Brandon was sort of average. Not ugly, but not nearly as handsome as the doctor, or even as Hank.

  But she admitted, she liked the idea of mucking around in other people’s stuff. And she liked the satisfaction of making order out of chaos. She was convincing herself to take the job, or at least consider it.

  “Okay,” she said. “I’ll come take a look.”

  “Great!” The doctor took her arm and they continued their walk. “You grow up here in Newport?”

  “Yes.” She forced herself to relax and not pull away from him. “It’s a great place to grow up. So much interesting history, and you learn a lot by osmosis, it seems. It has a small-town feel to it, even with a rather large population, especially if you count the other towns on the island. Everyone seems to know everyone else. A lot of the time that’s because our parents grew up here, and their parents, as well.” She was babbling again. She was nervous, and she hated the feeling. It wasn’t something she was used to. Even though her father died when she was young, it still felt as if she had two parents because Uncle Bob had lived with them since before she was born. Way back, someone with his bad hearing had a hard time finding work. So her parents had given him a home.

 

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