Traci Tyne Hilton - Mitzi Neuhaus 04 - Frozen Assets

by Traci Tyne Hilton

  Karina let out a long, slow, aggravated sounding breath. “Except that the greenhouse is still not taken care of, and they had the climbing gear with them. Who would bring climbing gear to fix a greenhouse?”

  Mitzy shook her head. “That’s beside the point. Anyone might have had it in their car. Thank you so much, Karina. You have really helped me out.”

  “How does any of this help you sell my house?”

  “Oh, we’ll see! I will call you back as soon as I know the answer to that. Take care of yourself, okay?”

  “You do the same…” Karina’s voice trailed off.

  Mitzy ended the call, giddy. Sure, she didn’t know why Peter might have hated Arnold enough to kill him, but she had a reasonable explanation for both of them being at the house and up on the balcony. She could get to the bottom of this tonight if she didn’t miss a step.

  She dismissed entirely the nagging voice at the back of her mind that said if it was this easy, the police would have solved it by now. The police might well know everything she knew, but then again, people had their guard up with the police. No one suspected she was capable of unraveling the tangle on her own.

  ***

  It was getting late, but Mitzy had her next step narrowed down to three options. She could beard the lion in her den, i.e., go visit Ulrike and make her spill the beans about her brother Peter…

  Mitzy scratched her head. No, she didn’t have three options after all. Just the one. Everyone else had spilled everything they knew. It was up to Ulrike now… but… she’d have to catch her off guard. If she suspected Mitzy was after information about Peter, then she would have her defenses up, and the trip would be wasted.

  Her only chance was to take Bonnie with her and have Bonnie address the issues regarding Dirk and his contract.

  Mitzy dialed Bonnie. “Hey, how are you doing?” She hated beating around the bush, but there wasn’t another option right now. Bonnie wouldn’t appreciate being a prop for Mitzy’s investigation, so she’d have to ease her into taking the trip to Ulrike’s office.

  “I’m hanging in there.”

  “Have you and Dirk been able to talk?”

  Bonnie sniffled.

  A wave of guilt washed over Mitzy. It wasn’t right to just use this poor girl. Perhaps she really could make this trip down to English Cottages work out for Bonnie. Maybe a confrontation would be good for the put-upon young bride. Mitzy waited for Bonnie to talk.

  Bonnie took a deep breath. “He’s been home with me, but he’s not talking. He’s not looking at me, and he’s sleeping on the couch.”

  “Oh no!” Mitzy sat down. She knew things weren’t good, but it sounded so lonely coming from Bonnie’s sad voice.

  “He hasn’t left and isn’t saying he’s going to leave, but he’s really mad.”

  “Do you think it’s all because of the small house?”

  “Yes.” Bonnie’s voice was a whisper.

  “When did he change his mind so thoroughly? One minute he was interested in rehabbing that big house, and the next, he would only have a small one.”

  “I don’t know. I think he never really changed his mind. He’s wanted to build his own small house forever, and then we talked about other projects we could do, which got us started on looking at fixer houses, but I think, all along, he only wanted the one thing. A tiny house.”

  “And you don’t.”

  “They’re just so small.” Bonnie choked back a sob.

  “Is Dirk home now?”

  “No…”

  “You sound like there’s something else you want to say.”

  “I think he’s with Ulrike.”

  Mitzy pressed her lips together. She didn’t want to see Bonnie’s bad luck as her good fortune, but it couldn’t have been better. “What makes you think that?”

  “I had a text message from a phone number I didn’t recognize… something about papers. I called it back, and she answered. The text was old. I hadn’t seen it come in this morning. I think maybe she sent it to both of us. But I’m guessing he’s there now, or has just been there. I don’t know what he thinks he can do without money.” Bonnie’s voice broke.

  “Would you like to go down there with me so we can all talk this over?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What makes you hesitate?”

  “What if, what if, what if—” She staggered through her words, and then cut herself off with a sob. After a few deep breaths she started again. “What if he tells me it’s over? I’m not ready for that.”

  Mitzy exhaled slowly. She couldn’t bring this poor kid to Ulrike’s with that kind of fear hanging over her. “What if I went down by myself to talk to Ulrike? I could try and find out what she and Dirk are planning. I could suggest that I still get a percentage, since I am the one that connected them and all of that. Then we could sort of know what he’s thinking without you having to feel like you are up against an ultimatum.”

  Bonnie sniffled again. “Okay.” She spoke with a quiet, weak voice.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, please. Just don’t make me go.”

  “Okay. I will go right now. Maybe he’ll be there still, and the three of us can have a serious discussion of what is going on.”

  “Thank you,” Bonnie whispered.

  “It’s no problem. You hang in there, okay?” She ended the call with a rock in the pit of her stomach. She had been so tied up with Arnold, who had to get himself killed, that she hadn’t appreciated the truly needy young woman God had put in her path. Dear Jesus, she prayed quietly as she locked up her office, help me help Bonnie.

  17

  Mitzy let her car idle in the nearest parking spot to the English Cottages office. She still thought the location of the car-unfriendly “neighborhood” was foolish. Those houses that actually sold in the first place were sure to devolve into rentals before the owners made back any of their initial investment. She watched the rain fall on the roofs of the very small homes. It would freeze tonight, at least at Karina’s house up on the hill. But down here, in the lowlands… the rain and the relative warmth would melt away the dirty remains of the last snowfall. The closer it got to Christmas Day, the more normal Portland weather got. Cold, wet, gray, and unappealing.

  She turned her car off and headed to the office. If Dirk was there with Ulrike, she’d have a hard time keeping up a professional façade. She wanted nothing more than to grab him by the ear and drag him back to his wife.

  Mitzy spotted Dirk’s car parked around the block from her own. Her heart sank, but she straightened her shoulders and repeated her simple prayer. She would try to help Bonnie… and if anything else came to light that could help, say, Karina while she was there, she’d take it.

  The office for the English Cottages seemed no bigger than the houses themselves, so with the two giant blond Swedes, their drop-dead gorgeous sister Ulrike, and Dirk, who was no shrimp himself, all lounging around and laughing, the room felt tiny.

  The comfortable laughter stopped almost immediately as Mitzy walked in. Only Dirk continued to chuckle at whatever joke Mitzy had just missed.

  “Can I help you?” Ulrike’s smile was icy, and her eyes were guarded.

  “I hope so.” Mitzy set her large bag on an unoccupied chair. “I’m glad to see you here, Dirk.”

  He tilted his chin in a bro-style nod of acknowledgement.

  “Hellooo again, Mitzy.” Kjell drew out his hello to match a lingering look of admiration.

  She pulled a crisp white document from her bag and handed it to Dirk without acknowledging Kjell. “I thought I’d bring this by.”

  Dirk took the paper and turned red.

  “Do you remember that? Our Buyer’s Representation Agreement?”

  Dirk shrugged.

  “I thought if you were here to sign papers—Bonnie was included in the text message, in case you weren’t aware—I ought to be here.”

  Dirk snarled.

  Mitzy turned to Ulrike. “Did you have somethin
g you needed me to look over? I need to call Bonnie and let her know what kind of papers you have drawn up.”

  “No papers.” Ulrike held her empty hands out, palm up. “Bonnie must have been mistaken.”

  Dirk leaned heavily on the desk, his arms folded over a small stack of paper.

  Mitzy chuckled. “None? Okay.” She crossed her arms and smiled at the group. “According to the contract Dirk signed, I negotiate any sales on his behalf. So… let’s talk, yes? Dirk, are you aware that Bonnie doesn’t consent to buying an English Cottage home at this time?”

  “I am fully aware of what Bonnie wants.” He ground his teeth. “And she is fully aware of what I want.” His eyes betrayed him by darting, for a quick second, over to Ulrike.

  Mitzy sighed. “Really? Are you sure that’s what you want? You hardly know her.”

  Dirk leapt to his feet, sending the papers he had been covering to the floor. “How is this any of your business? You’re just a real estate agent!” He stood, feet apart, fists clenching at his side. His face quivered in anger.

  “Calm down now, Dirk.” Ulrike’s voice was low and soothing. “You’re just here to explore your options, right? Nothing more.”

  “What options are those?” Mitzy asked.

  “There are several homes still available, and three of those can still be customized.” She indicated a corkboard covered in model home designs on her wall.

  “That is not why I am here.” Dirk banged his fist on the desk. “Ulrike, I’m here for you!”

  Mitzy sized Dirk up again. He looked like he’d kill for Ulrike… but… “Dirk, how long have you known Ulrike?”

  “We met the day you brought him here, I swear.” Ulrike’s face had drained of color. She stood with her back against the wall. Her two brothers stepped forward, between her and Dirk. “And I’ve told him at least four times that I want nothing to do with him besides selling a house.” Ulrike’s perfectly composed face cracked, just a bit, as her eyebrow twitched and her bottom lip trembled.

  “Dirk!” Mitzy put both of her hands on his shoulders. “What are you doing?” She didn’t shake him, but she didn’t let go when he tried to brush her off, either. With her high-heeled boots on, they stood eye to eye. “You have a wife at home, and this girl is not interested in breaking up your family.” She gripped him tight, despite the fear she would leave bruises on him.

  With one quick wrench of his shoulder, he wrested himself free from Mitzy’s hands. “I’m over Bonnie, and she knows it.”

  “You need to back down.” Ulrike’s other brother, Peter, spoke this time. His voice was deep and slow. “Or I will back you down.”

  Dirk looked from Ulrike to Peter and back, a frantic, scared-animal look in his eyes.

  “Peter…” Ulrike tried to calm her brother down.

  “You called us here to get rid of him, and we will.” He cracked his knuckles.

  Mitzy’s breath caught in her throat. Had Ulrike also called them to get rid of her aging, broke, playboy boyfriend?

  “Dirk, you are a very nice man. You have a nice life…” Ulrike’s calming tones were having no effect on the overheated man.

  “You can all take my nice life and shove it!” Dirk pushed his way past Mitzy and out the door.

  Mitzy wavered for just a moment. She grabbed Peter’s arm to straighten herself up, and then followed Dirk outside. “What on earth is going on with you, Dirk? Less than two weeks ago you were a happy husband looking for a dream house.”

  Dirk paced the sidewalk, slapping his bare arms with his hands. “Bonnie changed. She used to be cool.”

  Mitzy bit the inside of her cheek. This young man was such a child that she was tempted to put him in the corner. “She changed in the last two weeks?”

  “Yeah. She did. She used to be cool and want to party and have a good time, and now all she can talk about is houses and kids and that kind of stuff. I’m so over that.”

  “So, you are still wanting the young party life, and she is starting to act old and more… married?”

  “Yes. Exactly. She keeps talking about having enough room for kids. I want to take a house and rip it to its studs and put it back together again and move on. She wants to move in and start a cult or something. Like those guys on TV with a thousand kids.”

  “You’re not ready for kids yet?” Mitzy had one eye on the door to the office. She wanted to sort Dirk out—at least get him out of his crisis mode for the moment—before Ulrike and her brothers went home.

  “Exactly. But try telling that to Bonnie. I say that to Bonnie, and she laughs at me. She acts like it doesn’t matter what I think. Well, you know what? If she doesn’t care what I think, she doesn’t need me, either.”

  Bonnie, oh Bonnie. Mitzy sighed. The sweet kid wasn’t completely faultless in the marriage. She was just young and unaware of how fragile husbands could really be. “If I hear you right, it’s not that you really want to replace Bonnie with Ulrike. You want to replace this new Bonnie with the old Bonnie.”

  Dirk stopped pacing and shrugged. “I guess.”

  “Then go home and tell her that. Don’t keep running away from your problems. I promise you that if you were to magically somehow get Ulrike to run off with you, eventually she would also change, and you’d have to deal with that.”

  “I left my coat in the office.” Dirk glanced at the door, his eyes hooded, almost embarrassed.

  “How about I bring it back to you later? Tomorrow, maybe?”

  “Fine.” He turned to go to his car. “But, Mitzy, it’s not going to work.”

  “You never know if you don’t try.” She offered him a warm smile, but he left without saying anything else. She didn’t have high hopes for the couple, but perhaps they would make it through Christmas without completely imploding.

  Mitzy went back into the office to find Ulrike collapsed at her desk, head in her hands. “Shut up already!” Her voice was clear but irritated.

  Kjell laughed.

  Peter frowned at his sister. “You pick terrible men.”

  Ulrike looked up, her face tear streaked. “I did not pick that boy. I’m sick of American men. They all see my blonde hair and think that means I want to be with them.”

  Kjell laughed. “It doesn’t?”

  “Oh, shut up!” Frustration oozed from her voice.

  “Then why do American women spend so much money being blondes? I thought they were advertising.” He eyed Mitzy again.

  “You should come home.” Peter scowled. “There’s no point in staying here anymore.”

  “When does your visa expire?” Mitzy asked. She eyed the room for Dirk’s coat, feeling alone now that he was gone.

  Kjell laughed again. “Her visa’s been up for ages.”

  “Are you sure?” Mitzy asked.

  “Of course I’m sure. Why do you think we came down to get her? She’s being an idiot.”

  Ulrike laid her head down on the desk. “I really did like Arnold.”

  “I know,” Mitzy soothed. “Everyone he knew really liked him. Even you, right, Peter?”

  Peter shot her a sharp look. “I tolerated him.”

  “He was nice about throwing work your way, though.” Mitzy smiled, trying to keep her fear and suspicion from her face.

  “He was a jerk to Karina. I helped her because she needed it.”

  “But the other jobs?”

  “I did those because I needed the money.”

  Kjell inched his way to the door, and then leaned on it, hand on the doorknob. “Now that Dirk is gone, you’ll be leaving as well, right, Mitzy?”

  “We should probably talk some more about this. Not as Realtors, but as people concerned about Dirk and Bonnie.”

  “I’m not concerned about them,” Ulrike said, her head still nestled in the crook of her arm. “If she loses her man, it’s her own fault. It’s not like someone killed him.”

  The coldness in Ulrike’s tone was still there, but beneath it, for the first time, Mitzy detected grief. As though Arn
old were someone she truly missed.

  Peter laid his hand on her back. “Why don’t you just come home and put this behind you?”

  “I owe him this last respect. Just to see the business stays afloat until his estate is settled.”

  “You don’t owe him anything.” Kjell’s voice lost its humorous tone. “I’m sick of hearing that you owe him, or he was good to you, or how much fun he was. He was evil. Mycket elak, Ulrike. Very wicked.” Kjell held the doorknob in a white-knuckled grip. “You saw only his charm, but inside, he was no good.”

  “How could you say that?” Ulrike’s voice was almost too quiet to hear.

  “I know things. I see things. All he wanted was money. He didn’t love anyone. Mycket elak. You understand?”

  “What do you know? How could you know?” Ulrike sat up. She stared at her brother, her otherwise jaded eyes wide and innocent.

  “Peter’s not the only one who worked with him. I sometimes… helped him with things.”

  “What are you saying, Kjell?” Peter’s jaw twitched.

  “He wasn’t going to marry you.” Kjell’s piercing blue eyes were locked on his sister.

  “So?”

  “Don’t say anything else,” Peter warned.

  Mitzy gripped her phone. She desperately wanted Kjell to keep talking. She needed him to say just enough, to be prodded into saying one more thing. She wished with all her heart she had brought Bonnie or kept Dirk—anyone to corroborate what she was about to hear. Peter and Ulrike couldn’t be trusted to repeat their brother’s confession. “Evil is kind of harsh, isn’t it? Selfish, sure, but evil?”

  Kjell didn’t turn away. “Evil. Pure evil.”

  “But how do you know? How did you find out?” Mitzy asked.

  “He needed a hand, and Peter was asleep, so I offered to help. Why not? I could use a little extra cash, too.”

  “That night he died? Is that when you helped?” Mitzy kept her voice even as she pressed the button to power up her phone. The phone chirped to life, splitting the silence that followed her question.

  Peter looked around, his eyes wild. “Where’s the phone? Whose phone was that?”