All of the news on “murder houses” was depressing. Basically, everyone had had to take the home off the market, and then bring it back at fire-sale prices long after the news of the murder was out of the headlines.
Mitzy googled Zachary English. As far as Karina had been concerned, Zachary had dropped off the map years ago. He couldn’t be much younger than Mitzy, though, so unless he had moved out of town, someone should know what he had been up to.
Mitzy found his Linkedin and Facebook pages on the first page of hits. She wasn’t ready to draw attention to herself yet, so she didn’t request friendships or connections with him.
An academic paper, recently published, was also on the first page of hits. She opened it. Zachary had done a study on green building in Portland and how each builder did or did not live up to his claims. Though written in cold, academic jargon, the study seemed particularly down on the tiny home trend. It didn’t mention English Cottages by name. Mitzy checked the publication date—the article was four years old. She’d have to go back and see when English Cottages had opened their doors to homeowners.
Had Zachary left his father’s business out of the study because it wasn’t complete yet, because he was being a gracious son, or because he was afraid that including family would skew reader perception of his conclusions? It was hard to say. No one in the article came away with a perfect analysis, but the tiny homes in particular came off looking bad. Mitzy bookmarked the page. She would like to have a conversation with Zachary about that. According to the article he was, at least at the time of publication, an instructor at Portland Community College’s Department of Urban Planning. All she’d have to do is find out which campus held that department.
She hoped it wasn’t the West Hills Campus. The idea of negotiating those narrow, icy streets in her Miata sent a shiver down her spine.
***
At dinner, Alonzo helped himself to a heaping plate of spaghetti.
“Before you say that this is almost as good as your mom’s spaghetti, I want you to know it is your mom’s spaghetti. She brought it over this afternoon.”
Alonzo shoveled a forkful into his mouth. He grinned in approval.
Mitzy closed her eyes and prayed a silent blessing. When she opened them again, Alonzo had his head bowed.
“Sorry,” he said. “I forgot.”
“No biggy.”
Alonzo’s twenty years as a bachelor and non-practicing Catholic were the source of most of their cultural differences. Despite being a newly born-again Christian, old habits like digging into dinner without a blessing first were hard to break.
“So… Christmas.” Mitzy smiled brightly at Alonzo. “We had dinner at your Mom’s last year.”
“Yeah, that worked pretty well. Want to do it again?”
The image of an irritable Christmas with her sister-in-law Aerin flooded her mind. The honest truth was that she did want to spend Christmas with the Miramontes clan.
“Yes, but I guess we have to go to my family this year.”
“Why?” Alonzo shoveled in another mouthful.
“Because they love us, too. Everyone is driving down to Sweet Home to spend Christmas on the farm with Grandma this year.”
“Your Grandma farms?”
“No, it’s my uncle’s farm now, but he’s hosting Christmas. Every few years, he does.”
“We could do Christmas breakfast with my parents and then go to the farm.” Alonzo didn’t slow down in his eating.
“It’s a weekend thing. Uncle Dave and his wife June, my cousin Jerrod and his wife, Mom, Dad, Grandma. A big family thing.”
“You left out Brett and Aerin.”
“Yeah. Wishful thinking I guess.”
“We could do the weekend thing and then come up and see my family late on Christmas day,” Alonzo said. “Mom is expecting us to be there.”
“So’s my mom. She’s expecting us to stay the whole time.”
“Sweet Home isn’t that far away. We can get from there back here in time for pie and presents.” Alonzo grabbed his phone. “I have to make a call. I’ll be right back.”
Alonzo was technically right, but they hadn’t gone from his mom’s house to her parents’ last year. Why did they have to fit his family in on her year? Even though she would rather spend the whole time with his family, it didn’t seem fair.
Mitzy twirled the noodles around her fork. She was being childish, but it was just because she was hungry, and she wasn’t in the mood for spaghetti.
Alonzo returned with a stormy face. He yanked his chair away from the table and sat down without a word.
“Trouble with the job?” Mitzy tried to catch his eye.
He only grunted in response.
Mitzy stood up. “Whatever. I’m not your secretary. You don’t get to grunt at me when you’re mad about work. I’ll be in my office if you decide to talk again tonight.”
“Sorry.” Alonzo got the whole word out, but it was almost a grunt.
Mitzy kissed the top of his head as she left the room. Whatever sub-contractor had screwed up on whatever part of his remodel wasn’t any of Mitzy’s business… unless Al got so annoyed the fired them all and bought her the house. But her hopes for buying her dream house had been pushed aside in concern for Karina. The deal was, sell Karina’s house and then buy the dream house. With the recent death, Mitzy had to admit defeat.
6
It was the next afternoon before Mitzy called her client Bonnie back. “Good news about the English Cottages.” Mitzy wasn’t sure if Bonnie would agree it was good news, but she had decided optimism was the only way to handle this couple’s mismatched ideals. “The recent loss of the owner of the company will in no way affect sales of the cottages.”
“Dirk will be thrilled.” Bonnie sounded disgusted.
“Have you guys talked it over anymore?”
“We talked. He thinks those cottages are the best things in the world. They are smaller than our apartment, Mitzy. How am I going to get him to change his mind?”
“Have you guys talked about ways to compromise on this?” She tried to shove her own hopeless case of compromise out of her mind. “Maybe we can start looking at Energy Star homes about the same size as your current place, and work our way up or down from there.”
“He won’t like it.”
“We could go see some of the tiny houses where they are built—show Dirk why the English Cottages aren’t exactly the same.” Mitzy was wishing that Zach had included English Cottages in the article by name. His scathing critique of mini-homes would surely be a dash of cold water to Dirk.
“And get him excited about something even smaller? I don’t think so. You’ve just got to find us a big house that is so perfect he can’t possibly say no.”
Mitzy rolled her eyes, glad that Bonnie was on the phone. “Are you thinking Energy Star rated and really modern so that the style would sort of dazzle him?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I want. And it has got to be up for auction or foreclosed or something so that Dirk will see it’s a screaming deal.”
“I understand.”
“It’s a buyer’s market, right Mitzy? The perfect house has got to be out there somewhere.”
Mitzy agreed, but the one house that really fit the bill had a squatter living in it. If that house wasn’t the right size at the right price, nothing would be. Then again, it was traditional in style, rather than modern. “Let me make sure I know exactly what I am looking for, okay? You want an extreme modern home for a super cheap price. Price per square foot is less important than the house being big enough and modern enough, right?”
“I’d like it to be as big as it can be, frankly.”
“Ah.” Everyone wanted that. “I’ll see what I can find, but I want you to start talking compromise. You and Dirk need to try your hardest to get on the same page, okay?”
“If you find us the right house, I won’t have to convince him of anything.”
Mitzy counted to five in her head. She
wanted to hang up on Bonnie. If it had been spring, she wouldn’t force herself to deal with such a demanding client. But winter sales meant beggars shouldn’t be choosers. “I will do my best.”
“Can we go see it tomorrow afternoon? Dirk has the day off.”
Mitzy laughed out loud. “Bonnie, let me find the house first, before we set an appointment to go see it.”
“Fine. I’ll be looking for the email about the house.”
“Okay. I’ll get something to you as soon as I can.” Mitzy ended the call before she went insane. She turned back to her computer and changed her search parameters. If she couldn’t discover something this way, she’d have to make some calls.
Her phone rang while she was working, but she almost didn’t look at it for fear it was Bonnie again.
“Mitzy?” Karina was on the line, and her voice, while weak and quiet, had a note of hope in it. “I have to thank you so much for the lawyer recommendation.”
Relief washed over Mitzy. “You found someone good?”
“Yes, she’s a wonderful lawyer. She got the police to not make any charges against me. I was able to go home from the police station the day they took me in.”
“How did she do that?” Mitzy frowned. Was the new lawyer magic?
“Well, I guess I didn’t really understand what was happening to me, which worked in my favor. They don’t seem to have read me my Miranda rights, which either means I wasn’t really under arrest in the first place, or they couldn’t arrest me after that. I sound a fool, don’t I? The important thing is that Kelly was able to take me home that same day.”
“Have you been at your house since then?”
“Oh, no, I’m staying in a hotel. The Portland, downtown. Can you meet me here this afternoon for coffee? I have several things I’d like to discuss with you if you are free.”
“Absolutely. I will be right there.” Mitzy turned her computer off. She changed into something chic enough for coffee at The Portland. She hoped Karina wanted to talk about more than the situation with the house.
The Portland was an ultra-high-end, modern hotel at the heart of downtown Portland, a stone’s throw from Nike Town. The interior was sleek, black and white furniture with touches of a silvery-turquoise and another color that could only be called absinthe. Mitzy found Karina toward the back of the restaurant at a table for two. She was stirring a glass of ice tea with a long spoon. The sight of the thin, blonde woman with her tall glass of ice-cold tea in the dining room that sparkled like a Christmas tree ornament, sent a shiver of cold over Mitzy. When she sat down, she ordered a cup of coffee.
“Thank you for meeting me, and thank you again for the lawyer recommendation. I don’t know what I would have done without her.”
Mitzy pulled the sleeves of her sweater over her cold fingers. “It was the least I could do. Where do you stand now?”
“They made it clear that I was under suspicion for the murder. The life insurance really bothers them. You know, I got that policy on our tenth anniversary just because he was starting to get old. After the divorce, it didn’t even occur to me to cancel it.”
Mitzy’s coffee arrived, and she almost bowed to the waiter who brought it. She poured cream from the small stainless creamer into the black brew and stirred it slowly, watching the rings of cream spread through the coffee while she listened to Karina.
“I spoke with the insurance company,” Karina said, “and there is a waiting period before they pay out on a policy where the death was questionable.”
“I’m so sorry.” Mitzy watched Karina’s face with care. Karina’s eyes were red, as though she had been crying or having trouble sleeping, but her face was almost motionless as she spoke. It could be a sign of unfeeling coldness, or just Botox. The fine lines that Mitzy had noticed around Karina’s mouth and eyes the day of the murder were missing, so she guessed it was Botox. “Then we need to keep moving on the sale of your home, don’t we?”
Karina took a careful sip from her tea. “I hate to agree, but the alimony, the interest in the business… all of the income I have tied up in my previous life as Mrs. English is just frozen right now. I hate that I need to sell while his death is so new, but… what else can I do?”
Mitzy pondered the question. It wasn’t like the house was going to be snapped up right now. After all, the grisly death was still all over the news. “You sound like you’d like permission to wait. Can you afford to?”
“Zachary contacted me yesterday,” Karina said. “He wants me to take the house off of the market. He said keeping it for sale makes me look horrible.”
“Cold-hearted?”
“Worse. He implied that it made me look guilty, like I was trying to get rid of the evidence.”
“What did you say to that?” Mitzy kept her hands curled around the delicate porcelain cup.
“I said he was a horrid little brat to say a thing like that to me. He knows I still love his father.” Karina refused to make eye contact. Her gaze wandered, and her words trailed off.
Mitzy was tempted to snap to get her attention. “I take it that went over as well as a lead balloon.”
“Of course. But, Mitzy, I’m just so mad I could spit. Zachary English hasn’t had two words for me since before his father walked out. I was a good mother. I really was. You’d think I was the one who cheated the way Zachary treats me. These last years since the divorce, I’ve tried to stay connected. I’ve sent cards, money, gifts. I’ve even tried calling, and popping down to his place just to visit. Well, at least early on, I did. What does he say when he finally makes contact with me again? That I can’t sell the big old house because it makes me look like a murderer.” Though she had tried to maintain her composure, Karina broke. Big tears rolled down her cheeks. Her face didn’t quite crumple, being frozen as it were, but her mouth turned down and her nose twitched as she tried in vain to keep her tears at bay.
“Zachary and Todd were your only kids, weren’t they?
Karina dabbed at her eyes with her linen napkin. “Yes, they were. And with the custody agreement while they were young, and all of the trips their mother and her husband took, I raised them as much as she did.”
“Todd is gone, and Zachary has disowned you. It must just break your heart.”
Karina nodded, unable to speak.
“Have you decided what to do about the house?”
“We’ll take the sign down, I think, and stop showing it, please. Just for now.”
Karina’s finances had been tight when they first listed the house. That had been her reason for listing at such a bad time of the year. With the expensive lawyer, and the hotel suite, Mitzy just hoped Karina could hold on. “Of course, Karina, anything you say. Please call me whenever you need anything, okay?”
“You know the worst part? He said I should give him the house. Give him the house. As though I had homes to just toss around.” There was a bitter edge to Karina’s words, and Mitzy was finding it almost impossible to make out the real emotion behind them. Fear? Grief? Or was she truly just insulted? Mitzy decided to turn the conversation.
“Have you thought of any reason Arnold might have been at your house that night?”
Karina clinked her spoon against her glass, her thin white hand shaking as she stirred. “I’ve thought and thought about this. Why would he have been at my house? If he had been against my selling it, he would have had his lawyer contact me.”
“Maybe he was just checking on it. He was on the balcony, right? Maybe he had noticed something wrong with the roof, or the siding, and didn’t want to bother you.”
“I can’t imagine that.” Karina lifted the cup to her mouth and took a tiny sip. “If, for some reason, he had become concerned about the house, he would have sent one of the boys from his construction crew to look at it. Whenever I called him about something wrong, that’s what he’d do. I doubt Arnold has ever held a hammer in his own hand.”
Arnold seemed as different from Alonzo as could be, and Mitzy thanked God for it. The
idea of a builder who was too good to actually build raised her ire.
“If he wouldn’t go there to help you, might he have been there to hurt you?” Mitzy could just picture Arnold at the house to sabotage it. After taking away his ex-wife’s family and security, what would stop him from destroying her chance to sell the house and rebuild her life?
“Arnold wasn’t a faithful husband, but he wasn’t a bad man.” Karina gazed over Mitzy’s shoulder, her eyes fixed on something far away, a memory perhaps. “He wouldn’t have resorted to childish pranks to harm me when he could have just sued and taken the house.”
“I know it sounds simple, but I think the whole mystery rests on why he was at your house. If we could only figure out what he was doing there, we’d know everything.”
“It does sound simple, but the truth generally is, I find. If you have any brilliant ideas for coming to the truth, I’d love to know.”
Mitzy wrapped her cold fingers around the hot cup of coffee. “So would I.” After a warming drink, she continued. “I found an article online that Zachary wrote about tiny houses and how they aren’t as green as they claim.”
“Oh?” Karina’s face didn’t display any interest, but it could have been the continued effect of the Botox.
“He didn’t mention English Cottages. Was it before Arnold had begun his business? Maybe the article was an attempt to talk him out of it? Or maybe it was after and with the intention to distinguish between the Cottages and the tiny houses you can order online.”
“I certainly wouldn’t know. Maybe you should call him. You could call as my Realtor, ask him about his interest in the house. Maybe you can charm him into answering your questions.”
Mitzy stiffened. She was a married woman. She tried hard not to flirt to get her what she wanted these days. “Do you have a number I can reach him at?” Despite the unattractive way Karina had put it, getting in touch with Zachary was on her list of things to do.
Karina pulled out her cell phone and scrolled through her calls. “Here it is. From when he called me.” She set the phone on the table.
Traci Tyne Hilton - Mitzi Neuhaus 04 - Frozen Assets Page 5
