04 - Shock and Awesome

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04 - Shock and Awesome Page 14

by Camilla Chafer


  "I need to feel the place. I need to get the vibe," Lily told me.

  "There's no vibe. There's nothing here."

  "In my head, it looks awesome."

  "How soon will what's in your head transfer to things other people can see?"

  "Very soon. We open in a month. Can you bring some of your new hot, rich friends?"

  "I'll try," I promised. "So long as none of them are in jail."

  Lily looked up and grinned. That was usually a bad sign. "If you can arrest them at the opening party, the bar will get more publicity."

  "I think Solomon and the client want this wrapped up faster than a month."

  "So what's the plan, Batman?"

  "Keep on dating the last two suspects until one of them confesses, or I catch them in the act; then see if Serena will let me keep any of her clothes; then go on vacation. First, though, I need to pay a visit to my bungalow. I want to take some measurements and make the purchase official. How do I buy a house anyway?"

  Lily shrugged. "I don't know."

  "You're buying one! And you bought this place!"

  "I guess 'I don't know' was a lie then. I'll email you my lawyer's details. She's co-ordinating everything. Also, did you go to the bank?"

  "I did and they like me. Thanks in advance for the lawyer." I stood and brushed dust from my jeans, watching another workman carry some more stuff across the room. There were some head scratching and “umming” and “ahhing” noises as they clearly debated something. Probably lunch.

  "Not so fast, missy. I'm coming too. I want to see the ranch."

  "Bungalow!"

  "Whatever. You're driving."

  "Don't you want to get a bit more vibe?"

  "Nope. I'm done vibing. I want to see your new place. Can we childproof it?"

  I frowned. "I don't have kids."

  "You might one day. Do you think you'll have Solomon's babies or Maddox's?"

  My breath caught in my throat and I'm sure I heard the sound of my left ovary twang. I tried to say something, but it came out as “Begerbegerbe - grrrr.” Funnily enough, that was the same sound in my brain.

  Lily giggled and tucked her arm through mine, pointing at her belly. "For this baby. We will be visiting all the time. You don't have to have a baby with Solomon or Maddox; you can share this one. Do I get my own key?"

  "Sure. I'll be here having free drinks anyway."

  "Match made in heaven. Let's go!"

  ~

  The sound emanating from the Schuberts’ neighbor was horrendous. Machinery emitted a long, loud whine, occasionally punctuated by the sound of a dog joining in. It was already in progress for some time before we arrived, judging by the tired look on Mrs. Schubert's face.

  "Does that happen often?" I yelled.

  Mrs. Schubert and Mr. Schubert, a little older, taller, and thicker around the waist than his wife, exchanged glances. Both turned to me at the same time and said “Yes.”

  "Well..." started Mrs. Schubert, her voice rising so we could hear her.

  "Yes, yes we hear it a lot," said Mr. Schubert with a sigh. "Sometimes it doesn't happen for days, then it starts all over again."

  "What's happening over there? Are the neighbors renovating?" I stood on tiptoes to try and see from the porch into the rear yard, but I observed no evidence of any kind of work activity. No wood or bricks or tools lying around. The house looked neatly kept, the garden plain, but well manicured. The house's windows were shielded with blinds so I couldn't get a look inside. The noise told us that someone was working hard at something in there.

  "No," said Mr. Schubert. "We don't know what he's doing." Another look was exchanged.

  "He?" asked Lily, nudging me. What was with her? I hoped she wasn't even thinking of perhaps fixing me up with someone she hadn't even seen, and a loud someone at that. I ignored her.

  "So far as we know," agreed Mr. Schubert, like he wasn't all that sure. He continued, "Keeps to himself. Single, I think. We used to say hello and wave, but he just ignored us."

  "Not so friendly," agreed Mrs. Schubert. "Everyone here is so nice. Except him. Maybe he's from a city where they don't speak to anyone."

  "Maybe," I agreed. "He has a dog?"

  "A big one, kind of yellow-colored. A Labrador, I think."

  "A very loud Labrador. We knocked on the door a while, when he first moved here, to ask him to keep the dog a little quieter, but he just ignored us. We're not mean, you know, we don't mind hearing noise, but not constantly. Not like this," Mr. Schubert explained, finishing just as the dog started barking again. Simultaneously, we glanced over in time to see a delivery guy knocking at the door, a parcel in hand. The door must have opened because the parcel was handed over, while an electronic signing machine was held forwards. I saw a white hand return it, but the occupant was concealed from our view. The deliveryman returned to his truck and shot off, leaving us in silence at last. When nothing else sounded, Mr. Schubert mentioned something about reading his paper before ambling away.

  The quiet seemed to cheer his wife up as she invited us inside. Just as the door shut, the machinery whined again, and even with the door tightly shut, it didn't stop the pervasive noise from vibrating through our bones. Mrs. Schubert's shoulders slumped.

  "I have to be honest with you," Mrs. Schubert started, hesitantly looking at her husband who made himself comfortable on the couch. He gave her a half-hearted shrug. "This noise happens a lot. It's not why we're moving though, it really isn't. But I don't want to be the kind of person who dupes a person into buying a house they can't live in because of... well," she pointed next door, "that. We understand if you don't want to buy the place. We don't want to put you in any..." Another look was exchanged between the pair, and it didn't take a genius to work out they were worried about something besides the noise.

  "What is it?" I prompted.

  "We don't want to put you in any danger," said Mr. Schubert. He took off his glasses, folding them atop his newspaper.

  Lily gasped and her eyes widened. "Lexi loves danger. This place is perfect! It's cute, it doesn't need renovating, it's a nice neighborhood and it's exciting."

  "Hold on," I told her, giving her a little poke in the ribs before turning to the Schuberts. "What do you mean... danger? What's going on next door?"

  "Well... we think our neighbor might be killing people. Maybe eating them."

  Funnily enough, that didn't put me off as much as it should. I really liked the bungalow. Now I was also curious about what was going on next door. Noise I couldn't deal with; danger, on the other hand... "Are you sure?" I asked. "Killing people? What makes you think that?"

  "Strange noises, loud music and the dog always yap, yap, yapping. The young man keeps such odd hours, always staying to himself. We never see anyone there, but sometimes we hear shouting. He leaves in the evening sometimes with huge boxes in his truck. We think that's how he disposes of them."

  "Have you told the police?"

  "Oh no! We don't have any evidence. We've been watching, but he's very careful and we don't want to get too close in case..."

  "He kills you?" I asked.

  "And eats you," Lily added helpfully.

  The Schuberts both nodded with equally depressed expressions on their faces. I didn't notice until then how tired they both looked. They must have had some sleepless nights just worrying.

  "Why do you think he eats them?" I asked because I couldn't help it.

  "Isn't that what serial killers do?" asked Mrs. Schubert.

  Really, it wasn't exactly an implausible answer, though I had to think about it for a few minutes. I couldn't think of many serial killers who ate their victims; but then, I didn't know many serial killers, period.

  "Statistically, I think it's unlikely your neighbor is killing and eating people," I told them.

  "Maybe he just kills them," suggested Mr. Schubert. "We watch a lot of Criminal Minds and we might have overactive imaginations."

  "Might," agreed Mrs. Schubert.

&nb
sp; "There's a small chance they're right," Lily whispered.

  "You don't have to whisper, dear," Mrs. Schubert told her, before giving me a pointed look. I didn't know if she was hopeful that her neighbor was a monster, or just pleased that Lily thought cannibalism a possibility too.

  "I'm sure there's an explanation," I decided; and before I could think why I said it, I blurted out, "Why don't I look into it?"

  "Lexi is a private investigator for the Solomon Agency," Lily told them. "She can solve anything. Killers, thieves, saboteurs... and she always looks really good while she's doing it."

  "Aww, thanks, Lily."

  "No problem."

  "Well, I don't know if we can afford to hire you," said Mrs. Schubert hesitantly. The worried looks were back again, but the noise abated, thankfully.

  I waved my hands. I didn't want their money. "Don't worry about that. All I ask is, if I find out what's going on, and you still want to sell, you give me right of first refusal."

  Mr. Schubert stuck out his hand and I placed mine in his. "Deal," he said. "But please don't put yourself in harm's way. We could never forgive ourselves if you got eaten."

  "I won't," I promised, thinking about what Ruby said to me as she hopped out of the window. "But I will find out what's going on next door. Call it a random act of kindness."

  "Me too," said Lily, "I'm going to help Lexi and I don't even want to buy your house. I just want to catch a serial killer. This is going to be so much fun!"

  Privately, I disagreed. Loudly.

  ~

  Lily and I staked out the street that evening. It worked well for me. First, it wasn't a date with a loser. Win! Second, I got to hang out with Lily. For the past few days, I had an uncomfortable and burgeoning feeling that with her new business shortly to open, along with her impending motherhood, she was leaving me behind. Third, Lily brought snacks and I was really hungry.

  "You think if we ordered pizza, we could get one delivered to the car?" I asked as we waited for something, anything, to happen.

  "Yep, but then the VW will smell of cheese."

  "Hmm. Maybe not. What about Chinese?"

  "Duh. Then it'll smell Chinese. Have a cookie?"

  I chewed on the cookie while staring at the house next to the yellow bungalow. We parked a little further down the street, almost on the bend, under a large, old tree of some variety. I didn't know what kind. No one ever asked me to investigate a tree. However, in the hour that we sat here, nothing happened. No noise. No movement. Definitely no bodies.

  "I wonder how he cooks them," Lily murmured, reaching into the back for a packet of chips from the grocery bag we stashed there. "Do you think he's all Silence of the Lambs?"

  "Never seen it."

  "We should watch it sometime."

  "No thanks."

  "Scaredy-cat."

  "I won't confirm or deny it. Do you think it's a nice house?"

  "I think the whole street is nice. I hope you can live here peacefully without waking up one day to find your neighbor gnawing on your leg."

  "That would be a really bad wake-up call. Worse than my alarm clock."

  "Bright side, you could compete in the Paralympics."

  "I don't think I'll be any faster with one leg."

  We fell into silence while we surveyed the house. It was nice, a little on the small side, but with two floors to the bungalow's one — if we ignored the mansard windows — and a well kept garden. From driving past, I knew there was a garage on the far side, concealed from us, and there was a neat, but plain, fenced-in yard to the rear, with a small patio adjoining the house. No noise came from the house, not even the sound of the dog barking, and it was at least fifteen minutes since another vehicle drove past.

  "Maybe he's taking a nap. What's his name again?"

  I picked up the paperwork I had the Schuberts fill in for me. It was on letterhead Solomon stationery, but I crossed that out. I toyed with writing The Graves Agency on the top, but decided not to, just in case someone found it and laughed. It seemed presumptive, plus, it was only one itty, bitty, pro-bono case. "Aidan Marsh. Thirty-two. Occupation, unknown. Family, unknown. Previous address, unknown. Dog name, unknown."

  "We don't know a lot," Lily pointed out as she reached into her bra and gleefully retrieved a cookie crumb.

  "Not yet."

  I slid the paperwork into the side pocket of the door just as another car drew up behind us. That seemed suspicious in itself, and my heart did a little thump-thump as the driver got out, taking his time to stretch his arms over his head, while revealing a few inches of taut stomach. He strode over.

  "Don't look now, but the cops are here," I murmured.

  Lily shot a glance over her shoulder and turned back. "Cop. And he doesn't count."

  "He still has a badge."

  "Yep, and I know what he's done with you and his handcuffs, so I'm not scared. Perturbed, but not scared."

  We waited for Maddox to crouch down next to the window. I turned on the engine and hit the button for the electric window to roll down. "Hello, Detective," I said, flashing him a cheery smile and trying to not look suspicious.

  "Lexi." Maddox leaned over. "Lily." He nodded to Lily.

  "Can we help you?" I asked.

  Maddox took his time looking around. "What are you doing?" he asked at last.

  "Sightseeing."

  "No one sightsees in Montgomery."

  "Taking a break." I faked a yawn and covered my mouth. "Must not drive tired." Lily yawned too. So hard, in fact, I thought she might dislocate her jaw.

  "What are you really doing?"

  "Hanging out with my homegirl? Taking the evening air? What's with the twenty questions?"

  "We got a report from a homeowner that a suspicious looking vehicle was parked out here a while and inside, two women were making out." Maddox grinned. "Imagine my surprise when I heard it was your car. I thought, why waste a uniform when I could check it out on my way home?"

  "We were not making out," Lily protested.

  "Definitely not," I agreed. I turned to my best friend. "Although we did hug at one point."

  "But there wasn't any groping," Lily pointed out. She leaned around me to look at Maddox. "Plus, I'm pregnant and it was definitely put there by a man. No turkey basters involved. I can draw you a diagram."

  "Please don't."

  "I just wanted to make the point that we couldn't be making out if I'm pregnant with a baby put there by a man. Though if I were going to make out with a woman, I'd totally make out with Lexi."

  I high-fived her. "Thanks, sweetie."

  "Anytime. Though, not, you know, anytime. Still straight and hot for your brother."

  "Me too, to the first bit. Vom to the second."

  "Glad we got all that cleared up," said Maddox. "Congratulations again on the natural pregnancy, Lily. I'll inform the homeowner you're having some car trouble and not casing the place. Just out of curiosity, which house are you casing?"

  "The white one," said Lily.

  "Lily!" I squeaked.

  "Sorry, it's the pressure! I cracked."

  "Why?" asked Maddox.

  "You're a scary cop," replied Lily.

  "No, Lily." Maddox sighed. "I meant why are you casing the white house? Not why did you crack. And why aren't you working on the other case? You know. The Big One," he emphasized. "Why am I bothering with the secrecy? You know what I'm talking about, don't you, Lily?"

  Lily nodded. "Best. Job. Ever."

  I wasn't sure I agreed, but it was more interesting than staking out what might be an empty house. I turned to Maddox, telling him, "I still am, but I had to take a night off from dating suspects. It's hard work, you know, being constantly hot and desirable. I'm doing a favor for someone. It's nothing illegal, I promise." I was fairly certain it was nothing illegal. That is, we'd only been here an hour, so it couldn't count as stalking yet, and we hadn't broken in, and no one had been hurt. I hoped my vague explanation would satisfy his curiosity.

 
"Is this a case for Solomon?" Maddox's eyes darkened, only briefly, at that.

  "Nope."

  "Call me if you need help."

  "You're on the list."

  Maddox nodded and stood, leaving me with another nice view of his midriff, where his shirt untucked from his pants. He smoothed the shirt back into place, patted the roof of the VW and strode away.

 

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