04 - Shock and Awesome

by Camilla Chafer

  "If you were leaning towards one as a suspect, whom would you choose?"

  "Neither right now. It's too early." Damn it. I was going to have to date both of them some more. Life could be so hard sometimes. "If the thief wanted to get my confidence, I'd say Ben won that one. If he wanted information, it's a tie."

  "I’ll let you know if the team agrees," said Solomon. He paused and I waited, wondering what was on his mind. "How was the kiss?" he asked.

  I thought long and hard about that. Actually, it was short and quick because I didn't want to dwell on it. It was nice. Delicate. It made my heart race. I might even want another shot just to see if I really liked it, but would I tell Solomon that? No way. "Goodnight, Solomon," I said. "Let me know about my next date."

  "Talk tomorrow," was all Solomon said, and I let him have the satisfaction of hanging up on me.

  ~

  After such a nice evening, even if it was a job, the thought of going straight home to my empty apartment and empty bed was too depressing. The image of my new, and now ex-neighbor's, packing boxes would just make me obsess on the thrilling task of packing up my home in preparation for homelessness. So, I did what I always did in moments like this. I want to my happy place: the bungalow halfway between Harbridge and my apartment.

  I liked going there to imagine what my life would be like if I lived there, and this evening was no different. Pulling up a short distance down the street, I parked and gazed at the pretty, little house, softly lit by the moon. The silvery glow cast shadows across the lawn down to the white fence and over the For Sale by Owner sign.

  I blinked. The For Sale sign.

  "Holy guacamole!" I rubbed my eyes, blinked my vision back into play and looked again. Yep, still there. My dream house was for sale! All at once, I knew how Barbie felt. Except I didn't have a Ken, but, you know, whatever. Can't have everything, I reasoned.

  I instantly wanted to get a closer look. I wanted to sit right outside the bungalow and gaze at it, pretending that I just bought it. I wanted to make believe that this was the home I was returning to after a hard day being wined and dined at fancy restaurants. "What a chore," I mumbled to myself, fully aware that my excitement made me babble. At least, no one could see me. Firing up the engine, and with a quick look around to make sure no curtains twitched at my late evening surveillance, I rolled the car forward until I was outside. I killed the engine, positioned my elbow on the door rest and cupped my chin. I also smooshed my nose against the window, but that was an accident. I sighed.

  I don't know how long I sat there, staring in a mix of wonder and hope at my dream home, but my eyes were starting to glaze with daydreaming about furnishings, dinner parties, and a family by the time the front door opened and an older lady stepped out. She appeared to look my way. I lurched down in my seat and froze. Shoot. What if she thought I was casing the joint? Or that I was some weirdo? Of course, she could just be taking out the trash.

  A sharp rap sounded against the Ferrari's driver-side window and I looked up sheepishly.

  "Hello, dear," said the older lady, shouting a little even though the vehicle's windows weren't all that thick. She made a motion for me to roll down the window. I switched on the electrics and rolled it down. "Hello," she said again.

  "Um, hi."

  She leaned forwards a fraction and peered at me. "Do you have back trouble?"

  "Um, no." I shuffled upright.

  "Do you like my house?"

  I held my hands up. "I swear I am not casing your house."

  "I didn't for a minute think you were. That is, you come once a week and just sit here. My husband and I often look forward to seeing you. This is nice. Did you sell your VW?"

  Huh? "Oh? No, it's at home. I borrowed this one for work."

  "It's for sale you know. The house."

  "I, uh, see."

  "Why don't you come in and look around?"

  "Are you sure? I mean, I'd love to. Can I? Please?" Step inside my dream house? Add to the fantasy... build myself up for a massive disappointment... oh, what the heck. I took a deep breath, ready to decline. Instead, I said, "Yes, please, I'd love to look around your home."

  The lady smiled. "Figured you would." I smiled up at her. I couldn't help it. She was so nice and I so wanted to look inside. Besides, she didn't look strong enough to murder me unless she really caught me off guard. All the same... "I'll just text my best friend and let her know I'll be home a little later."

  "Come in when you're ready. I'll leave the door open. I'm Anthea Schubert." The lady shuffled off. My ninja-fast texting skills ensured I bounded along the path like an over-excited Labrador thirty seconds later. I may have even slobbered a little in my eagerness to catch up with her.

  As I stepped onto the porch, a high-pitched whine pierced the air and the old lady winced with a heavy sigh. The whine cut out and I poked my left ear. Just as I was sure my hearing wasn't permanently damaged, the whine started up again, this time the sound of a dog barking joined it. The lady took a deep breath, her eyes flitting to the neighbor's property and back to me. She smiled and beckoned me in. I took one last look at her hands for weapons — paranoia was better than dead — and decided I was sure there was nothing concealed in her slacks and blouse. Then I did what my mother always told me never to do: I went into a stranger's house. At least, no one had to bribe me with candy. I'm not sure what that said about me.

  The bungalow was everything I hoped it would be. Light, airy, not too large and not too small. Polished hardwood floors gleaming under the diffused light provided by carefully placed lamps. The furniture was a little dated for my taste, but I wasn't interested in that. All I could imagine was coming home and stepping over the threshold into the neat, little living room. I saw myself cooking, well, microwaving, in the penny-tiled kitchen and eating at the breakfast bar, perched on a tall stool. My bedroom furniture, what little there was, would be perfect in the rear bedroom and there was a guest room too. The bathroom was new and freshly scrubbed until it sparkled.

  Mrs. Schubert chatted as we walked around, telling me about the two daughters she raised here, how she and her husband were moving to be near their elder girl who had young children. She asked where I lived and about my family, finding our last name familiar, which wasn't all that surprising, given how many Graves were planted in Montgomery, alive and dead. In a couple more generations, we'll probably take over.

  "Your home is beautiful," I breathed, checking out the original crown molding.

  Mrs. Schubert smiled. "Thank you. For sale, too," she reminded me, as if that thought could possibly escape me.

  "I want to live here," I told her, practically tripping over my own tongue in my urgency to get the words out. "I want to buy your house and make it my home."

  "I thought you might. We turned down an offer just yesterday, you know."

  My heart skipped a beat. "Oh?"

  "Only because the man wanted to tear the house down and build some monstrosity on the plot. Said this," she waved her arm around the cozy living room, "was old fashioned."

  "I think it's perfect."

  "Why don't I give you the flyer we printed and let you think about it some more? Come for tea tomorrow, if you like. I could show you the garden when it's light."

  "I'll still want it tomorrow." I waited while Mrs. Schubert pulled a flyer from a writing desk in the corner of the living room and handed it to me. Without looking at it, I folded it in two and tucked it into my purse. I really didn't need my bubble bursting by seeing the price. There would be plenty of time to freak out over that later. I mean, I'd already made an offer. Sort of. It wasn’t accepted. And I hadn't thought it through. Much less, knew if I had the money, or even how much it cost.

  What the hell. Some decisions just worked out right and you didn't have to bust a gut thinking about how to make them work.

  Mrs. Schubert escorted me to the door "Then come to tea and we'll talk."

  "I will. Thanks for showing me around."

  "It
was about time, don't you think?" Mrs. Schubert paused to wink before she closed the door.

  I stood on the porch for a moment, breathing in the soft evening air, admiring the quiet, tree-lined street and the neat rows of homes from my new vantage point. Yes, this was exactly where I wanted to be. So what if I would be living alone? Lily wasn’t far away. I was only a few minutes further away from family. It was time for a change anyway.

  I practically danced to my borrowed car. As I fired up the engine, a howl sounded from somewhere nearby, followed by manic barking; but it was nothing compared to the singing inside my head. I found my new home. Before I took off, I slipped the flyer from my purse and unfolded it. The price stood out boldly even in the small print.

  "Holy crapola!" I took a deep breath and stuffed the page back into my purse. "Someone's got to buy you," I told the house. "Why not me?"

  I should have gone home and celebrated, maybe opened a bottle of wine. Wasn't that the right thing to do after you put in an offer on your dream home? But when I thought about it, the right thing to do was leave the Ferrari in the agency's parking garage, take my VW, and go back to the apartment that seemed less and less like a home, pull on my ducky pajamas and hyperventilate about how to get a mortgage.

  Chapter Ten

  Lily knocked on my door in the morning. Fortunately, I'd already completed the basics of human hygiene so she didn't have to see my teeth unbrushed and a serious case of bed-head. Even so, she wrinkled her nose at my duck pajamas as she stumbled in, her arms clutching a pile of collapsed cardboard boxes.

  "What's all that for?" I asked as she edged past me, the boxes exploding out of her arms into a heap on the floor upon entering my living room.

  "For packing. Duh! I came by to see if you wanted them last night, but you weren't home yet. Work? Or did it end up as... pleasure?" Lily gave me a hopeful look. And a really big wink.

  "Work, but fun work. Then I accidentally bought a house."

  "Oh!" Lily blinked, then shrugged. "You know it's easier to return shoes, right?"

  "I didn't actually buy it. I just said I wanted to buy it."

  "That's great. I'm glad you found somewhere. I was worried. You definitely need these boxes now."

  "You don't have to worry about me." I poked her stomach. "You have enough to worry about. You have a family to take care of now."

  "You're my family, Lexi." Lily nudged me and smiled and I poked her stomach again. How the baby would manage to expand her gym-hard six-pack was a mystery.

  "Officially," I told her. "I totally forgive my brother for having sex with you."

  "You wouldn't if I told you what he suggested last night."

  "Please don't ever tell me. Our friendship has to evolve to less telling any more secrets now. I think it's safer that way." I really didn't want to have a heart attack. Well, that is, it sounded like a great way to go if I were the one getting over excited, but I didn't want the last words I heard to be the kinky stuff my best friend and brother got up to.

  "Who am I going to tell this stuff to now?"

  "A therapist?"

  "There isn't enough money in all the world to pay for that."

  "Plus, the therapist would probably sue you for therapy."

  "Jord better get that promotion. My bar better take off."

  "How's that going?"

  "Good. Really good. We'll open in a month. I want everything to be up and running long before the baby gets here. Jord finds out about his exams in two weeks."

  "Do you know what you're going to do when the baby comes? Will you take maternity leave?"

  "Yep. I'm going to be all over this baby, but Ruby is going to manage the bar in the evening, and I'll work days. I won't be behind the bar much, but I'll run it behind the scenes."

  "You sure about hiring Ruby?" Our friend Ruby Kalouza was somewhat a Jill-of-all-trades. I first met her on a case when she worked in an adults-only club that had a definite "less is more" dress policy. Lily was working the door of the club at the same time and, as it turned out, they knew each other for awhile. I bumped into Ruby on a regular basis and she was a good source of information, at times. She didn't mind helping out because she thought my job was cool. Sometimes it was, so I didn't burst her bubble by telling her about the times I surveyed someone so long, I thought I'd never make it to the bathroom in time, or when a lead went bad. I figured sticking with the cool angle made her more willing to help me. That, and the cash I slipped her when I could.

  "Totally. She's really sharp. I trust her."

  "That's good. And you know the family will rally around if you need anyone. Everyone will help."

  "I feel so lucky, you know. I have everything I want. The guy I adore, a family, a best friend, a new house, the bar. How did my life get so perfect?" Lily slid past me and walked into the kitchen, testing the back of her hand against the coffee pot. I knew she would find it hot. I'd only just made my morning cup. I waited while she prepared herself a mug and thought on what she said. Our lives did seem to be pulling together. Hers a little faster than mine, but I'd never begrudge her that. Best friends always wanted the best for each other. That should be law.

  "On the downside," I decided, continuing, "not that I want to rain on our parade, but we are thirty soon."

  "Pfft. Like that matters. We got our lives together by thirty. That's an achievement. That's a major life thingy. Like, a moment. Some people never make that. We should celebrate."

  I gave her a skeptical look. "You think my life's together?"

  Lily shrugged. "More than it's ever been. Great job..."

  "Don't push it."

  "A job you want," she corrected, "hot guys everywhere you turn."

  I counted off on my fingers. "Ex-boyfriend, boss, desperate single dating-agency guys, and the targets of my investigation."

  "I don't see your point. Plus, you bought a house. Wait. What house? Where?"

  "I just told you."

  "No, you did not. Tell me everything. Tell me now. Wait until I make my coffee," Lily added as she poked her head inside the fridge. "Where's your two percent? Why don't you keep it in the door like a normal person?"

  "It keeps cold better on the shelf."

  "It's a refrigerator. Everything stays cold. Whatever." She emerged with the milk, holding the carton aloft like a trophy. She sniffed the opening. "Still good. Unlike ours."

  "Is that the only reason you came up? To get coffee because your milk was sour?"

  "Nooooo. I brought packing boxes for you. Coffee is like a thank you. From you... to me." She held her mug aloft and smiled benevolently. "Thaaaaank yoooouuu."

  I pulled a face and wrinkled my nose, hoping I didn't look like a Pug. "You made it yourself."

  "I thank myself." She reached her hand over her shoulder and patted her back too. "Now tell me everything. Where is it? What does it look like? How many bedrooms? Are the neighbors hot? Did you get a deal? When can I house crash?"

  "Um..." I began to count questions on my fingers. "Not far from here. It's the buttercup yellow bungalow. Two bedrooms. I don't know. Maybe. Sure!"

  "Omigod! The ochre ranch?"

  "Yellow bungalow," I corrected.

  "Ranch."

  "Bungalow. Bungalow. Bungalow."

  "Okay, don't have a heart attack. Call it whatever you like. I'm so pleased. This atones for all the times you made me sit outside there with you like a creepy stalker. You are on the only person I know who stalks homes. Except my mom. And the stalking totally paid off. High five!" Lily high-fived me, which was awesome because I deserved it. Also: high-fiving was the only kind of five I would be able to afford once the mortgage was in place. Not that I actually tried getting one, but Serena, who doubled as my accountant, thought I would be able to get one when I called her. The idea of home ownership seemed both near and far, amazing and stomach-churning. "When are we going for a second viewing?"

  Just as I was about to suggest a trip, there and then, my cell phone rang, Ben Rafferty's number flashed on th
e screen. I put a finger to my lips. "Work," I told Lily, before hitting answer. "Hi, Ben."

  "Hi, Lexi," Ben's voice came down the line, deep and delicious. "I'm outside your house. I thought you might like to go to brunch?"

  My voice came out like a squeak. "You're outside my house?" I dashed past Lily to the window and looked outside. No cars idling at the curb. I closed my eyes and sighed at my forgetfulness. Of course, he wasn't outside “my house.” He was outside what he thought was my house.

  "I, um..."