Eliza Carlisle Mystery, Book One
Trouble Magnet
1: Grandma Crazy Town
I was going to kiss my sister full on the mouth the next time I saw her. Staring out the window of the cab at the gorgeous old apartment building, I couldn’t believe how things had worked out. Four years older, Bernadette had always taken care of me. This was above and beyond. The moment I called her to gush about my acceptance to culinary school, she had all the answers.
Her boss had been trying to talk her into taking an overseas assignment for months, but she was still under lease on her apartment and didn’t want to have to put all of her stuff in storage for the next year or sublet to a stranger. Solution: let me move in while she was in Spain. I got super cheap rent while going to school and she didn’t have to box everything up.
Stepping out onto the curb, I could barely stop myself from jumping up and down. At twenty-three, I was finally living on my own in a big city, ready to start a top notch program at my dream school. It was a few years later than originally planned, but it was perfect.
I was startled out of my glorious revelry by my one, gigantic suitcase being dropped at my feet with a loud slap of plastic wheels against concrete. “This is where you’re going to live?” the cab driver asked. His skeptical tone seemed ridiculous. And why did he look like he was shying away from the building like it might have cooties? “I should have known when your sister called me at the cab company to pick you up at the airport.”
“Isn’t it great?” I said, determined not to let him ruin my moment.
“That’s what everyone thinks…at first,” he grumbled. He shook his head. “Good luck.”
Having already paid my fair, he walked back to the driver’s side and drove off a few seconds later. I had no idea what his problem was. I didn’t have more than a second to dwell on it before a woman burst through the double doors of the apartment building and bounded down to shake my hand. It seemed a little overenthusiastic, but I was beaming and shaking back with equal gusto.
“You must be Eliza Carlisle. Bernadette’s sister, right?” The woman stared at me expectantly, looking ready to pass out from her excitement. This place was really friendly, apparently. No wonder Bernadette liked it. It might take me a little getting used to. Me and people hadn’t been real tight lately, but I was pretty sure I could manage.
“Yeah, I guess she told you I’d be here today.” Either that, or my sister had the world’s most perky stalker.
Her smile grew, which I hadn’t thought possible. “Of course she did! She told me all about you.”
Well, hopefully not all about me. Whoever this lady was, even as aggressive as she seemed to be about making friends, Bernadette knew how to keep her mouth shut when she needed to protect someone. It was no surprise to anyone when she went into journalism.
“I’m, Sonya, the manager, and I’m here to welcome you and get you settled.” She reached for my suitcase, and I thought about trying to stop her, but it seemed slightly rude to say no, and I was just a little afraid of provoking her into some kind of super welcome mode as well. Instead, I followed her up the steps while she continued to talk.
“I can’t tell you how excited I am to have another woman my age around here. I mean,” she said, looking back at me while she yanked my suitcase over another step, “your sister is really nice, but she was hardly ever around. It’ll be great having someone to talk to.” She was still smiling, even as she wrestled my bag up another step.
I guess I hadn’t really thought about how old Sonya was until that moment. She was young, but I hadn’t realized she was that young. “How old are you?”
“Twenty…four,” she said, her words broken up by the effort of hauling my suitcase up and over the last, unusually tall step. “My grandma owns the building. When managing it herself got to be too much, she offered me a rent free apartment in exchange for keeping an eye on things.”
That explained how she came to manage an entire building at such a young age. “Sounds like a pretty good deal to me.”
For the first time since meeting her, Sonya’s smile faltered. “Yeah, well, it’ll be better now, right?”
Not really sure how to respond to that, I nodded and hoped it was the right response. When her smile wattage went back to blinding, I figured I’d guessed correctly. Sonya pulled one of the doors open and gestured for me to go ahead of her. Stopping to stare as soon as I entered the lobby, it took me a moment to take it all in. It was beautiful with its dark wood scrollwork and vintage wallpaper. The carpet runners were a little worn from traffic, but high quality and well cared for. It instantly felt like home.
“I closed the dumpster lids. Are you happy now?” some shuffling, grumbling older gentleman snarled as he made his way across the lobby.
I looked back at Sonya, hoping he was talking to her and not me. She was rolling her eyes, but her voice was perfectly pleasant as she said. “Thank you, Mr. Piper.”
He flapped his arm a few times in annoyance without turning back and disappeared around a corner.
“Never mind him,” Sonya said as she directed me to the office. “He’s always like that.”
She brushed it off quickly, but I tucked the warning away for later. Avoid angry old men ranting about dumpster lids. If Sonya and I were the only younger residents, I hoped that didn’t mean all the elderly people in the building were as irritable as Mr. Piper. Old people kinda creeped me out. Angry old people even more so.
“So,” Sonya said once she was tucked away behind her desk and I was seated in front of her, “let’s get all the paperwork out of the way and then I’ll show you to Bernadette’s…well, your apartment, okay?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
I swear it was like watching a little kid handing over a birthday present to their best friend that they knew was going to be the best possible gift on the planet. Sonya seemed nice—a little overly so—but I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why she was about to bust a seam over this. It was just a lease agreement. She pushed the paperwork across the desk and I was happily signing away when the office door burst open so hard it slammed into the wall behind me.
Spinning around in my chair, I gaped at the man in the doorway. His dark hair and emerald green eyes were certainly something to take notice of, as was his height and broad shoulders. What had my fingers turning white as they clutched the chair arms was the livid expression on his face as he thrust a piece of paper out in front of him.
“If I get another damn complaint from Ms. Sinclair about my TV being too loud after seven p.m., I swear I will take that tabby cat of hers that spends half the night yowling and pitch it right out the window! Not everyone goes to bed at seven in the evening, and the only way she can hear my TV is if she’s got a glass against the wall again!”
He didn’t even wait for a response before tossing the paper at Sonya and storming out of the office, the door slamming closed behind him. As soon as it felt safe to speak again, I asked, “Who on earth was that?”
Sonya sighed. “Baxter. Never mind him. He’s always like that. Those two…” She shook her head again, but dismissed the whole encounter a moment later. I wished I could have done the same. “Anyway,” Sonya continued, “if you have any questions about the lease agreement, just let me know. You’ll actually be subletting from Bernadette since her lease isn’t up yet, but all the same rules and requirements apply.”
“Rules and requirements?” I asked. Rules, sure, there were always rules, I supposed. Requirements? Like a credit check? I hoped that wouldn’t be an issue as I had almost zero credit to speak of.
Tilting her head to one side, Sonya frowned. “Bernadette did explain how this building works, right?”
“It’s an apartment building. How complicated could it be?” I mean, I’d never lived on my own before, but still. Pay your rent on time, don’t annoy the neighbors. What else was there?
Slumping into her chair, Sonya’s posture made it pr
etty clear there was definitely more to it than that. “Oh dear.” She sighed and her smile was taken over by worry. “I really thought Bernadette would have explained everything already. I was so excited.”
She said it like my moving in here was suddenly out of the question. That got me worried. How bad could this place possibly be? Classes started the next day and I had nowhere else to go. All of my savings had gone toward tuition. I barely had enough left to pay the inexpensive rent here for a month while I looked for a job. I couldn’t afford anywhere else.
“Why don’t you just explain,” I said warily.
Sonya bit her bottom lip, but nodded in a defeated sort of way.
“My grandma, she’s a little…odd.” Sonya looked up at me, her brows knit together. “Her and my grandpa have owned this building forever, but after my grandpa passed and all the kids were gone, she was lonely and she…made some changes to the standard lease agreement, but not the rent amount.”
I was beginning to feel like I was sitting in the lobby of the Bates motel, waiting on a key that would surely unlock my doom. “The changes? What were they?”
“Well, there’s kind of two parts.” She took a deep breath, the kind a doctor might take before he tells a patient they have terminal cancer. “The first part, one of the reasons rent is so low here, is because the residents all have a job…something they’re responsible for to keep the building running smoothly so Grandma doesn’t have to staff a maintenance guy.”
“So, all the repairs are done by people who have no clue what they’re doing?” I was suddenly wary of leaning too hard on anything or flipping on a light switch.
Sonya shook her head quickly. “No, no. Anything serious, we have a licensed repair person come in. Small things though, like changing light bulbs or repainting a scuffed up piece of railing, keeping the dumpster lids closed so trash doesn’t blow down the alley, things like that are the residents’ responsibility. Everyone has a job.”
“You’re going to assign me a chore, then?” That didn’t sound so bad.
“Well…Bernadette said you’d just take over her assignment.”
Great. Just great! Bernadette the overachiever, who could do anything and everything, said I’d slip right in and fill her shoes like I’d never, ever been able to do before. I loved my sister, but we couldn’t be more different if we had tried. I had one talent, cooking, and honestly, I wasn’t even sure I was that good. It was just one of the few things I didn’t suck at, so I figured I better attempt to make a career out of it since nothing else seemed all that promising.
“What was her assignment?” I held my breath, hoping for once she’d picked something simple and easy to learn.
Sonya’s eyebrows pinched together again. “Um, minor plumbing repairs.”
“Plumbing?” I shrieked.
Seriously? I had no freaking clue where to even start with that! I was pretty sure I knew what a screwdriver was, but that was about as far as my mechanical knowledge extended. Daddy banned me from laying even a single finger on his tools after I tried to replace the pedal that fell off my bike when I was eight and ended up with my hair stuck in the spokes and a broken finger.
“You might be able to talk one of the other residents into trading with you.” She tried to force a hopeful smile, but it died a short death. No one wanted to fish lost rings out of drain pipes or unclog someone else’s nasty sink. I didn’t have to be a plumber to know that.
“So…the other part,” Sonya said slowly. She waited for me to focus on her again, although zoning out in that moment would probably have been preferable. “My grandma really likes to be social, but she has a hard time leaving the building much anymore. Several times a week she hosts these, uh, get togethers, and…well, you’re required to attend at least one…per week.”
It took me a moment to process that tidbit of weirdness. I had to repeat it a few times in my head to make sure I had it right. “So, let me get this straight. Part of the lease agreement says that I have to hang out with your grandma and all the other residents at least once a week, whether I want to or not?” She nodded. “What happens if I don’t?”
Fiddling with some of the papers in front of her, Sonya said, “You get two warnings before you’re given thirty days’ notice to move out.” She looked up at me, her expression a mixture of hope and apology. “If that happens, Bernadette will lose her deposit and the option to renew her lease.”
Too me, that didn’t sound all that bad. Sure, losing the deposit money would suck, but Bernadette had a good job and could easily afford higher rent to live in a building not owned by a kooky old lady who probably should have been living in a retirement facility instead of forcing unassuming strangers to be her unwilling friends. Why on earth hadn’t Bernadette warned me about all of this?
“The rules,” Sonya continued, “are pretty basic. Rent’s due on the first. Five percent late charge after the tenth. No loud TV or music after ten. No damaging the apartment. Hanging pictures is okay, though. No physical violence against any of the other residents, either.”
That last one slapped me out of my self-pity and shot me up ram-rod straight in my chair. “Physical violence? Is that a problem here?”
Sonya blanched. “Not recently.”
I was going to die here. That was the real reason rent was so cheap. I’d finally escaped my past only to be roped into living in a funny farm where one of the other residents just might kill you in your sleep for playing your TV too loud or forgetting to put down the dumpster lids. Or maybe they’d just push you down the stairs. There were a lot of stairs here.
What had I gotten myself into?
No, what had Bernadette gotten me into? She was supposed to be looking out for me, not putting a target on my back!
I stared down at the final page of the lease agreement. One more signature to go. Clearly, Sonya was certain I’d walk away. If I’d had any other options—and I mean any other options—she’d have been right. Instead of running from the insanity of this place, I sighed and scrawled my name one last time. As soon as I lifted my pen, Sonya grabbed both my hands and squealed in delight.
“I’m so glad you’re staying! I was so sure you’d walk away when I realized Bernadette hadn’t prepared you.”
Which was exactly why my traitorous sister hadn’t said a word.
Before I could come up with a solid plan to pay my sister back for this, Sonya was back around the desk, my suitcase in hand, yanking me up from my chair and out of the office. The clunk-clunk of my suitcase banging its way up the stairs sounded like a death march. I was so focused on my own misery that I didn’t realize someone was coming up behind me until I was body-checked into the wall and another raised voice started ranting while waving a paper in Sonya’s face.
“Is your grandmother serious about this?” a Hispanic woman in her forties yelled. “She demands I come to these stupid potlucks, but now she doesn’t want me to bring my son? She really expects me to find a sitter just to show up to one of her weird dinner parties?”
A look of well-practiced patience settled over Sonya. “Marlene, you know my grandma is usually happy to have the entire family come to dinner, but Alonzo did take a permanent marker to her walls last Tuesday night. Anyone would be upset about that.”
“He’s just a kid!”
As mad as I’d probably be about marker on my walls, toddlers weren’t the easiest little beasts to control…
“Alonzo is ten, Marlene,” Sonya said, which shut her up and made my mouth snap closed as well.
Ten? Seriously? Never mind. I would have banned the little brat, too.
“Why don’t you check with Beth in three-thirty? She’s the resident babysitter and I’m sure she’d be happy to keep Alonzo company while she does homework.”
Marlene huffed, then spun around and marched back down the stairs without another word. Sonya shook her head and said, “Don’t mind Marlene…”
“She’s always like that?” I finishe
d. When Sonya nodded, I sighed. I was beginning to see a pattern.
A few minutes later, Sonya stopped in front of a door with shiny brass numbers stating that we had arrived at apartment two-sixteen. “This is you,” she said as she handed over the keys. “Grandma’s dinners are at six o’clock on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, and she’ll usually do something on holidays, too. Everyone brings a little something and you only have to stay for an hour.” She paused and bit her lip. “Really, it’s not that bad. I’ll be there.”
She said that last part like it was supposed to erase everything else. All I could do was sigh in response. The only escape I was going to find was holing myself up in my new apartment. Reaching out with the key, I was jiggling it around in an attempt to open it when shouting from next door erupted only moments before two sets of doors burst open.
“I can hear your TV!” some crazy old woman—who I assumed was Ms. Sinclair—shouted at an equally peeved Baxter.
“I don’t even have my TV on!”
The old woman span around and stomped back into her apartment, of course, slamming the door behind her. Baxter looked ready to do the same, but as he twisted around, he caught sight of me and glowered. “You’re my new neighbor?”
I nodded, not daring to speak.
“Complain about noise of my TV once and…” His hands balled into fists as he tried and failed to contain his anger. “I don’t play my TV too loud, no matter what that old bat says.”
I just nodded again, hoping he’d go away. Granting my wish, he turned back toward his apartment and I released the breath I was holding. “I’m going to kill my sister,” I muttered.
It was barely loud enough for Sonya—who was standing right next to me—to hear, but Baxter paused and looked back at me, his eyes narrowing before disappearing into his apartment. Feeling suddenly weak in the knees, I leaned against the wall to steady myself. That last rule about physical violence was looking more and more necessary by the minute. The best I could hope for at this point was that the residents were as diligent about not killing each other as they were about not missing dinner with Grandma Crazy Town.
Continue reading about Eliza and her unpredictable neighbors in TROUBLE MAGNET.
Also by DelSheree Gladden
The Handbook Series
The Crazy Girl’s Handbook
The Oblivious Girl’s Handbook
Eliza Carlisle Mystery Series
Trouble Magnet
The Catalyst
The Ghost Host Series
The Ghost Host
The Ghost Host: Episode 2
The Arcane Wielders Series
Life & Being
Escaping Fate Series
Escaping Fate
Soul Stone
Oracle Lost
(Coming Soon)
Twin Souls Saga
Twin Souls
Shaxoa’s Gift
Qaletaqa
The Destroyer Trilogy
Inquest
Secret of Betrayal
Darkening Chaos
Someone Wicked This Way Comes Series
Wicked Hunger
Wicked Power
Wicked Glory
Wicked Revenge
The Aerling Series
Invisible
Intangible
Invincible
The Date Shark Series
Date Shark
Shark Out Of Water
The Only Shark In The Sea
Shark In Troubled Waters
About the Author
DelSheree Gladden was one of those shy, quiet kids who spent more time reading than talking. Literally. She didn't speak a single word for the first three months of preschool, but she had already taught herself to read. Her fascination with reading led to many hours spent in the library and bookstores, and eventually to writing. She wrote her first novel when she was sixteen years old, but spent ten years rewriting and perfecting it before having it published.
Native to New Mexico, DelSheree and her husband spent several years in Colorado for college and work before moving back home to be near family again. Their two children love having their cousins close by. When not writing, you can find DelSheree reading, painting, sewing and trying not to get bitten by small children in her work as a dental hygienist. DelSheree has several bestselling young adult series, including "Invisible" which was part of the USA Today Bestselling box set, "Pandora." The Date Shark Series is her first contemporary romance series, and her first book in her upcoming mystery series, Trouble Magnet, will be releasing March of 2016.
Connect with DelSheree Gladden Online
https://www.facebook.com/AuthorDelShereeGladden
https://www.delshereegladden.com/
https://twitter.com/DelSheree
https://www.pinterest.com/delsheree/
https://plus.google.com/+DelShereeGladden/posts?cfem=1
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCvhRQvJy3KJhllsepnX6ogQ/videos
https://www.linkedin.com/in/delshereegladden
https://delsheree.tumblr.com/
https://writepublishrepeat.libsyn.com/ (podcast)
The Crazy Girl's Handbook Page 34
