Suspicious Minds

by Christy Barritt

  "How could he not pick one of us? He said the other people were too expensive.

  "Good question" Chad shrugged and pushed himself off the table. "I guess we're not needed anymore, so I'm going to take off." His eyes caught mine. "It was good sparring with you, Gabby. Maybe we'll get to do it again sometime"

  "May the best cleaner win"

  "I'd say the same, but I know you need the money to pay your bills. I'd hate to see you obliterated"

  I scowled at his figure as he walked away. How dare he?

  I told Detective Adams goodbye. I was ready to go home. The day had been long, and I wanted to take a shower and crawl into bed. As my van bounced along the road, I replayed the scene in my head.

  I remembered walking up just as Chad was bending over the crawlspace door. I remembered the way he'd goaded me-

  Chad had been bending over the crawl-space door. What if he hadn't just gotten there, as I'd assumed? What if he was putting the door back on after he had deposited the body under the house?

  I shivered. Had I been face-to-face with a killer?

  "MAYBE HE'S one of those killers who come back and see how people are reacting to the death. I've read about people like that. What if Chad Davis is one of them?" In my excitement, I smacked the table with my palm. My coffee leaped out of its ceramic mug and pooled on the table. I ignored it for the time being and decided to clean it up before I left the coffeehouse.

  Parker narrowed his eyes and leaned back in the chair, like I was annoying him. What was new? It's what our entire relationship had been built on at first. Every case lead I'd come up against, Parker had been there chiding me for getting involved. Rolling his eyes. Calling me Nancy Drew.

  Were the two of us really supposed to be together, or did I just want a boyfriend? The painful question had to be addressed. Every woman should ask herself that question, lest she end up in an awful relationship ... like my mom. I'm sure she and Dad had loved each other at some point, but their marriage probably had more to do with the fact that they conceived me out of wedlock than it had to do with true love.

  Parker shook his head, his expression void of a smile. "Gabby, please don't make me an embarrassment to my colleagues"

  I jerked my head back. "Excuse me?"

  He leaned closer and brought his voice down low, as if doing so might take the emotional smack out of his words. "If you stick your nose into another investigation, it's going to get around. Then I'll be known as the guy who's dating the nosy redhead"

  Blood rushed to my ears. Probably to my cheeks too. "Is that right? I thought you might be proud of me. After all, I did help solve that last murder investigation." I started to stand, but he grabbed my wrist.

  "Sit back down, and don't get your feathers ruffled" He looked from side to side, and I knew he didn't want me to make a scene. Most of the people in the coffeehouse were regulars, so I didn't care if they knew what a jerk my boyfriend was acting like.

  Nonetheless, I hesitantly lowered myself back into the chair and listened for a moment to a singer on a stage in the corner singing Lisa Loeb's "Stay" I tried to let the song speak some wisdom-or not-to me.

  Parker grabbed my hand. "That didn't come out completely right"

  I kept my gaze focused on the singer in the distance. "Then, as someone once said to another nosy redhead, you have some 'splaining to do"

  "Gabby, respect is hard to find"

  I thrust my jaw out and took the opportunity to scowl at him. "This isn't getting better, Parker."

  He sighed. "I just want you to stay out of trouble"

  That was just a cover for how he really felt. What he really meant was that I embarrassed him.

  "I need to go" I stood.

  "Gabby"

  I stepped away. "I don't want to talk right now."

  "Gabby, I'm tired. I'm not thinking straight."

  "Well, don't call me until you get some sleep and decide just how you really feel"

  I stormed out of the coffeehouse and into my apartment building. Sierra's door opened as I passed, and my cute Asian friend with the trendy glasses and pierced eyebrow stuck her head out. "Gabby-"

  "Not now. I'm not in the mood." I shouldn't have been short with her. I really did love her like a sister. I'd apologize profusely later and beg for forgiveness.

  Right now, I charged upstairs and slammed the door to my apartment.

  I would never, ever date someone who was embarrassed to be with me.

  Was I really this hopeless? I couldn't get my mind off Riley, a man who had led me on, all the while having a fiancee ... off and on. I was dating Parker, a man who was ashamed of me. And I felt strangely attracted to a man who just might be a killer.

  First thing in the morning, I was going to find myself a shrink. I obviously had problems. Maybe I should just call off dating altogether until I got my head on straight.

  But would my head ever be on straight? Being born into my messedup family, I had serious doubts. Maybe my screwed-up emotions were hereditary.

  I fell into the couch and buried my head in a pillow.

  Did I want so desperately to be loved that I'd date a man who treated me poorly? I'd always prided myself that I was stronger than that. On second thought, maybe I did need to talk to Sierra. She'd be straight with me.

  I stood and stepped toward the door. The phone rang.

  I stopped and stared at it. I really wished I had caller ID. What if it was Parker? Was I ready to speak to him yet? No.

  I picked up the phone anyway, being sure to keep my voice even and emotionless. "Hello."

  "Gabby?"

  Parker. Go figure. "What do you want?"

  I just talked to a colleague of mine in Norfolk, and I found out something I thought you might want to know."

  I sucked my cheeks in and nibbled on them, trying to control my tongue. "Did you?"

  "The homeowner had just hired this man to do the mold remediation"

  "I knew that."

  "The mold guy was shot"

  I released some of the suction on my cheeks. "Really. And then his body was placed under the house?"

  "No, Gabby. He was shot under the house"

  I let my head fall back into the couch cushion. The man had been murdered? Why?

  "Motive?"

  "They don't have any yet"

  This was Parker's peace offering. Most guys brought roses or chocolate. Parker gives me information on an investigation, which was really much sweeter than your traditional "I'm sorry."

  "Gabby, don't you realize what this means? It means that if you get involved with this case, your life could be in danger. What if you'd been the one the homeowner had called to come out and do the work? That body discovered today could have been yours:"

  I shivered. I wasn't ready to die yet.

  But I wasn't ready to let this drop either.

  "Do you forgive me for being stupid?"

  "I haven't decided yet"

  "Will you think about it?"

  "Maybe."

  "Can I call you tomorrow?"

  "I can't promise to answer."

  "I really am sorry, Gabby. I know I was a jerk. That's just what stress and lack of sleep does to me sometimes"

  "I hear you:'

  I started to hang up when I heard Parker's voice coming from the receiver.

  "Gabby?"

  "Yeah?"

  "I love you:'

  I hung up and purposefully knocked my head against the wall, wondering why my life had to be so complicated.

  AS SOON as I hung up, the phone rang again.

  I couldn't keep the irritation from my voice. "What now? I said tomorrow. You know, the day after this one:"

  "Gabby?"

  "Riley?" I closed my eyes, wanting to end this nightmare. I just wanted to turn off this day like you turned off the radio. If only it were that easy.

  "Everything okay?"

  "Just a little spat between Parker and me:"

  "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that"

  Unfor
tunately, he was probably telling the truth. I guess part of me wanted Riley to be jealous, to be secretly hoping that the two of us would break up so he could pursue me. Again, am I desperate? I really needed to examine that because I definitely didn't want to be desperate.

  I was just calling to see if you wanted to go to church with me tomorrow. I know it's been a while since we talked about it, but I figured now was as good a time as any, right?"

  "Right" I looked at my ceiling, trying to think of an excuse. Then I remembered the truth. "I have to finish a job tomorrow morning. I wanted to finish today, but I was just too tired:'

  "You could go to church with me and then I could help you afterward"

  "Or you could go to church without me and then help me out afterward anyway." I wanted to punch myself for being such a jerk, but I wasn't in the mood to go to church right now. I didn't want to face something else that was destined to disappoint me. I didn't want to pretend there was actually a God out there when I knew good and well there wasn't.

  "I'd be happy to help you afterward, Gabby."

  Why did he have to be so sweet? "Really?"

  "Of course. Just tell me when and where"

  I swallowed my guilt and gave him directions. As soon as I hung up the phone, I rushed out the door, down the steps, and pounded at Sierra's apartment. As soon as she opened her door, I pushed through the orange beads clacking from the frame and faced my friend.

  Am I desperate?"

  My Asian friend jerked her lip back in confusion. "Huh?"

  "You've got to tell me the truth-am I a desperate female?"

  She closed the door and glanced around the room with wide eyes. "I've never thought of you that way."

  "Am I boy crazy? Because I'm feeling boy crazy lately."

  "Can someone with a boyfriend be boy crazy?"

  I buried my face in my hands. "I don't know. I don't know anything."

  She sat beside me and, in a strangely comforting action, placed her hand on my back. "Is everything okay?"

  The only thing I'd ever seen Sierra comfort was an animal. Was she equating me with one of her defenseless mammals that she fought for tirelessly? Don't get me wrong-I admire her passion. But I still hadn't completely figured my friend out. I just knew that Sierra had always been there for me and she'd be straight with me.

  I began pouring out everything that had happened, and she just listened, nodding every so often.

  "It's going to be okay, Gabby." Sierra held out a brownie for me. The last brownie I'd taken from her had been made from acorns. I repressed a gag and politely declined.

  I looked her dead in the eye, silently begging for truth. "I don't want to be screwed up, Sierra. I've worked my entire life not to be screwed up like the rest of my family. But maybe it's inevitable"

  "You're not screwed up, Gabby. I mean, not any more than anyone else"

  I wasn't sure if that comforted me or not.

  My shoulders slumped. "I don't know what to do about Parker"

  "I've never really liked the two of you together anyway."

  I swiveled my head toward her. "Why didn't you say anything?"

  "People usually have to find their own way. Besides, would it have mattered?"

  My shoulders slumped more. "Probably not."

  "You'll figure things out, Gabby."

  "Why do you sound so sure?"

  "Because you always do. That's what I like about you-you rise above circumstances. You're a fighter, and you always come out on top"

  "Right now I'm feeling like a failure."

  "I have some lactose-free chocolate ice cream. I even have some nuts to put on top. Would that make you feel better?"

  I didn't even bother to ask what kind of nuts. Bring on the acorns. "Sure"

  I arrived back at Mr. Hermit's house just as the sun was rising the next morning. I pulled my unmarked white van to the back of the house, so neighbors wouldn't see me. No one likes to be reminded of tragedies that they're somehow connected with. A man dying alone in your neighborhood and no one discovering his body for two weeks was the ultimate tragedy. No one wanted to think about their life ending like that. No one wants to think that they weren't a friend to someone who had no one.

  I knew that I didn't want to think about my life ending like that.

  As I hauled in equipment, I pictured my life, flashed-forwarded thirty years. I'd be almost sixty. As the Beatles once said, would anyone still need or feed me when I was that age? And would dear old Dad still be around? If so, what would our relationship be like? He probably wouldn't be able to afford a nursing home, so he'd come to live with me. Otherwise, he'd be a ward of the state. Like I'd let that happen. This cycle that had started when Mom died would continue. Then after Dad died, it would just be me.

  Alone.

  I hated being alone.

  Sure, I had friends. I had great friends, friends who would risk their lives for me. But sometimes I just wanted something deeper, more permanent.

  Maybe that made me desperate.

  Or maybe that was just human nature. Maybe throughout the evolution of our species, we'd come to depend on others. We were like dogs-we liked to run in packs.

  Of course, Riley would say we were designed with the desire to be around others. He would remind me of the story of Adam and Eve. How Adam was lonely so God created Eve as a soul mate ... or something like that. I hadn't heard that Bible story since I went to vacation Bible school as a youngster. I preferred to keep it that way.

  Guilt still stabbed at me that I hadn't gone to church with Riley this morning. I had promised, and I liked to keep my word. I pushed aside the guilt to focus on my job.

  Darkness filled the living room. Mr. Hermit had kept heavy brown drapes across the windows. I decided they should come down. I pulled a hefty wooden chair over to the picture window and tugged at the curtain rod. I sneezed as dust poofed from the thick fabric. Lifting the rod like a barbell, I climbed from the chair and dropped the curtains in a heap. Dim sunlight flooded the room.

  The place already felt friendlier with a little sunshine brightening it.

  I glanced at the huge entertainment center stacked against one wall. A monstrous TV centerpieced the unit. Shelves around the boob tube were filled with videos and DVDs. No pictures of family members hugging each other or smiling with mountains in the background. Just videos. Things to fill your day and help you forget how isolated you are, I supposed.

  I needed to move the furniture out of the room in order to get the carpet up. I got the trolley from my van and began moving outdated end tables and scraped up wooden chairs and a dead house plant into the dining room. Then I piled videos-some so naughty that I didn't even want to touch them-into my arms and formed a miniature city of them on the kitchen table.

  After some manipulating, I managed to get the soggy recliner where Mr. Hermit had died onto my trolley. I pushed it outside. Later, I'd put it into my van. It couldn't simply go out to the trash. I had to take it to an ECP incinerator.

  The room was mostly clear now, except for the huge entertainment center. I'd move it once Riley got here. What would I have done if he hadn't said he'd help? I couldn't do this job by myself.

  I sighed. I was going to have to hire another assistant. The thing was, I needed all the money for myself.

  The AirScrubs I'd left in the house overnight had helped with the smell some. I'd leave them here for a couple more days to clean the interior atmosphere of the house. Today, I had to tear up the carpet. It couldn't be salvaged. The landlord would have to pay someone else to replace it if the subfloor looked decent.

  I pulled thick gloves on over my disposable ones. Starting in the corner, I tugged at the carpet. The matted, pea-green floor covering peeled up like rind from a moldy orange. Cat dander, crumbs, and dirt blanketed the air and I was glad for my respirator. I worked the carpet like someone rolling cigarettesslowly and carefully, trying to keep all the grit inside the carpet wrapper.

  Once the carpet in the living room was
left to the side, I examined the subfloor. A few stains blotched the wood, but the floor still felt sturdy. With a new rug, it would be fine.

  I grabbed a hammer from my tool chest. I would pull up the tacks and throw them away. The landlord only wanted the carpet in the room Mr. Hermit had died in replaced. The rest of the matted gold, orange, and brown carpet throughout the house was to stay, cat dander and all.

  I pulled up the tack strips and glanced at a wood-encircled clock on the wall. Riley should be here any minute. I'd get him to help me haul the carpet to my van. I pulled up my respirator mask and let the hood on my Tyvek suit fall around my shoulders.

  How did someone's life end up this way? Dying alone, with no one to care about the possessions dear to you.

  And why did Parker have to say that he loved me? Didn't he know that's what I wanted to hear? That it made me weak?

  I sighed. I couldn't think about it anymore. I'd tossed and turned thinking about it all night.

  All that was left was to paint. A fresh coat would do wonders for the smell.

  As I walked out the back door to my van to grab the white paint, I saw Riley's beat-up Toyota Corolla pull into the drive. I crossed my arms and leaned against the van as he approached wearing jeans and a plain gray T-shirt.

  "Hey, Space Girl"

  I looked down at my white suit and grinned. "I've been called worse. Although, I do prefer Teletubby."

  He tugged at my hood. "Cute"

  "I'm thinking about submitting a design based on this very outfit to Project Runway. What do you think? Could I be America's next big trendsetter? Will I take the fashion world by storm?" I began singing Madonna's "Vogue" as I struck various poses. I was sure I'd look back on the moment one day in embarrassment. Did I have no pride?

  "You could set some trends alright" He chuckled.

  At least he didn't seem embarrassed, like some other unnamed man.

  "I'm at your service. What do you need?"

  I pulled out another suit from my van. "Put this on first. Otherwise, your clothes will be ruined"

  As he climbed into the suit, I pulled the paint cans out. I motioned for Riley to grab a couple and follow me inside.