I plunked the shoebox down with a thud, crossed my legs, and leaned against the wall. "Your turn."
He rested his arms against the top of the oversized box. "What do you want to know?"
"Why a crime-scene cleaner? Why give up a job as a funeral home director?"
He shrugged. "It gets to you after a while. I couldn't do it anymore. I'd trained for all those years to do the job. Did it for two years. Then I woke up and realized how miserable I was. The job had robbed my joy. Some people can do that job and go on with their lives, like it doesn't affect them. Not me. So I sold my house, my car, and my plasma TV. Decided I wanted something simpler. Now I'm renting an apartment in Ocean View. Driving a beat-up Vanagon. Doing odd jobs on the side. Surfing. Skiing. And I'll keep doing that until the money runs out and I realize I have to grow up"
Hearing his story made Chad Davis seem much more human.
"And that's how two weirdos got to be crime-scene cleaners," I said.
"Amen and amen."
We both began to work silently again. After a few minutes, Chad looked up. "This is the guy whose funeral you're planning, isn't it?"
"Supposedly. I haven't done very much planning lately. Plus, none of his family wants anything to do with him."
"I wonder what happened:'
"Yeah, me too"
Chad plucked a letter from the box. "Maybe this has something to do with it"
"What's it say?" I leaned forward.
As Chad opened the letter, the paper crinkled in protest. His eyes scanned the words before he cleared his throat and began reading. "I can't believe you actually married that woman, Dad. I tried to warn you that she was no good, but you didn't listen. Now, I don't want anything to do with you. As far as I'm concerned you made your choice: her over me"
Chad lowered the letter and our gazes met.
"They had a rift because his father got married?" I asked. If my father got remarried, I'd be jumping for joy. Finally, he'd have someone else to take care of him.
"Maybe the woman was out for his money."
I looked around the house, which was nothing to brag about. "Doubt it. I pointed at the box. "Are there more letters?"
Chad dug around inside before emerging with a handful of envelopes. "Some that have been returned, addressed to his son"
I leaned forward, itching to get my fingers on those papers. "Can we open them?"
"Who's here to stop us?"
I eyeballed them when guilt hit me. "It somehow feels wrong"
"His son left all of the man's stuff to you, did he not?"
I remembered our conversation. "In a manner of speaking."
Chad ripped open an envelope. "Then there's nothing illegal"
"How about on a moral level?"
He paused. "We don't have to read them if you don't want to"
I grabbed another letter. "No, I really want to"
Chad began reading aloud the letter he invaded. "I've thought about what you said. You're right. I shouldn't be with Susan. You're more important to me. Please come back home"
"When's it postmarked?"
He flipped the envelope over. "Ten years ago"
I didn't expect the weight that pressed on my chest. "Sad"
"Very."
We cleaned the rest of the house in silence.
"SO, DID I pass your test?" Chad wound the vacuum cleaner cord around the cylinder designed to hold it in place.
I collected various cleaning supplies and placed them in the container I used to cart them around. "I suppose I'll allow you to come to my next job with me."
Chad paused from his winding. "You'll allow me?"
I, on the other hand, didn't miss a beat as I gathered things to leave. "That's correct. I'll allow it"
His hands went to his hips. "Maybe I don't want to"
"Okay, fine. Then don't"
"Maybe I do want to"
I stopped working long enough to give him a dirty look. "Make up your mind, snail! You are half inside your house and halfway out!"
"What?" His voice rose in pitch as if I were a total mystery to him.
"It's my favorite haiku"
"0 ... okay" He continued to put the vacuum cleaner together.
"So anyway, I have to go clean up a house that an SUV drove through. They're supposed to be releasing the scene"-I glanced at my watch-"in eleven minutes"
"What can you even clean up? Isn't it going to just be bricks and wood?"
"Two people were killed. I doubt the family will want to live there again, if the place doesn't end up being condemned. But I'm going to assess the damage, see if I can contract some work out for patching the hole where a bay window used to be. Then I'll get rid of some furniture, have the carpet cleaned, put out an AirScrub or two"
"Of course"
"So, what do you say?" I really wanted him to come with me. Being with Chad was much better than being alone with my thoughts.
"I'm in"
"Great, we can drop your car at your apartment, and then you can ride with me:" I remembered his Vanagon. "It will look more professional than both of us driving separately."
As I closed the door to Mr. Hermit's house, I realized I would miss this place. I felt like I'd gotten to know the man during my days cleaning here. Sadness pressed in on me as I remembered the way the man had died alone, with no one there to mourn his death. I'd stuck the rest of the letters into my pocket when Chad wasn't looking. I had to know if there was more information. Who was the woman? What had happened to make the son dislike her so much? What had happened to end their marriage?
I called the landlord on the way out to let him know I'd finished. He said he'd stick the check in the mail. I told him I'd stop by tomorrow to pick it up. I couldn't rely on other people's timetables for payment.
I glanced at the clock in the van. It was almost three. I had to go to this job and still stop by to visit Parker again. My heart panged at the thought of him. Parker and I had been through a lot together. I mean, sure, he got on my nerves. And I think I embarrassed him. And we had little in common other than investigating-him on an official level, and mine on a not-soofficial level.
And I'd never looked at him like Charlie did.
The weight on my chest began to crumble. I even laughed. Out loud. Which caused Chad to give me a strange look.
Why was I mourning over this new realization? Parker and I weren't meant to be together. Charlie had helped me to realize that. I knew I could finally close this chapter in my life.
If I'd really been in love with Parker, would I have left his bedside? No. I'd have stayed with him all day. I would have cried all night when the hospital made me leave.
"Should I be driving?" Chad asked.
"Why do you ask?"
"Maybe some of those fumes are getting to you. You know, you have to be careful working with chemicals . .
"No, I'm fine. I'm great actually."
Chad and I stayed at the hit-and-run house for four hours. I would have been there until the wee hours of the morning had Chad not been with me. He was helpful. Very helpful. His muscles came in handy. Plus, he had a great manner with the family, easing them and speaking in comforting tones. The father and daughter hadn't been there. An aunt was taking care of cleaning up the mess while the immediate family mourned.
And this is why I'd never touch alcohol.
My father had succumbed to its evil lure early on in my life. And I'd seen way too many other stupid things that people did as a result of alcohol.
A drunk driver had run off the road and crashed into this family's house while they were watching Saturday morning cartoons together. I squeezed the image out of my mind as I drove back.
I had to go visit Parker.
The clock told me it was almost eight.
I bet visiting hours ended at nine, if not earlier. I sucked in a breath.
"Everything okay?" Chad asked.
"I need to go to the hospital"
"Are you hurt?"
"No" I
paused, contemplating what to say next. "Parker was shot last night. I need to go visit him before visiting hours end."
"Parker? Isn't he your boyfriend?" Chad straightened and stared at me.
"Yeah, I guess you could say that" Not for long, though.
"Why do you seem so blase about it?"
"I seem blase?" I pointed to myself for effect. Did I really seem like I didn't care? Last night, I felt like I might break in two.
"You're not going to make it in time if you stop to get my van"
I bit my lip. "I know."
"I'll go with you. But I'll wait in the waiting room, of course. You can drop me off afterward."
"Really?"
"Sure. I don't have any plans"
"Thanks, Chad:"
"No problem. That's what friends are for"
Charlie sat beside Parker when I walked into his hospital room. She stood to leave when I arrived, but I put my hand on her shoulder and gently pushed her back down into the plastic seat beside Parker's bed.
Her face looked full of questions.
"Stay. Please," I insisted.
She looked postured to spring. "Are you sure?"
"Positive." I sat on the other side of Parker and took his hand. He smiled weakly, not the million-dollar smile I'm used to seeing. "How are you?"
"I'm okay. Ready to get back to work" He glanced at Charlie, and the two exchanged a look.
"The doctor said you'll be staying home for at least a couple of weeks" I patted his hand and wondered how this gorgeous man had ever taken notice of me. "Then you'll have desk duty for a while to make sure you've fully recovered"
"That's going to be a beast" He groaned and pushed his head into the pillow behind him.
Charlie waved a finger at him. "You have to take care of yourself, or you're not going to be healthy enough to do your job. I don't want to lose you ... as a partner"
I watched the two of them interact, stunned by how perfect they were for each other. Why had I ever thought Parker and I were right for each other? Or had I just been reeling over being dumped by Riley for his fiancee?
Or maybe I was-I hated to even think it-lonely and desperate. Maybe that's why I felt so deeply for Mr. Hermit. Because I could relate to him.
I didn't want to live my life alone.
Impulsively, I asked, "Do you both want to come to my place for Thanksgiving dinner?"
Parker and Charlie both jerked their heads toward me and stared as if I'd just offered the two law enforcement officers a puff from a crack pipe.
Parker squeezed my hand, as if concerned about my mental well-being. "Gabby, you don't cook."
I shrugged. "Minor detail. So what do you say? Do you have plans, Charlie?"
She threw a worried glance at Parker before connecting with my gaze. "No, my family all lives up in New York. I won't be able to make it home:"
I looked at Parker. "And you?"
"Gabby, are you sure you're not biting off more than you can chew?" Great. Even when my boyfriend is close to death, he can still muster the energy to doubt me.
"Yeah, I've thought this through:" Okay, not really. But I'd thought it through about as much as I needed.
Parker and Charlie looked at each other. They looked a little scared. Finally, they both shrugged and nodded.
"I'll be there;' Parker said.
"Me too;' Charlie said.
I grinned. "Come together."
Parker's eyebrows collided together on his forehead. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, I want the two of you to show up together. As a couple:'
"Gabby-"
"We're not-"
I held up my hands. "I know, I know. You're not together:' I let go of Parker's hand. "But you should be. The two of you are perfect together. I don't know why I didn't see it before:"
"Gabby-" Parker tried to speak again.
I kissed his forehead. "I have to go. But I know she'll take good care of you:"
I nodded to Charlie on my way out. My step felt lighter as I walked away.
"HOW'D IT go?" Chad asked as we exited the hospital.
I swung my arms to the side, snapped my fingers, and clapped. It was a Chad move I'd copied. It looked so lighthearted when he did it that I couldn't resist trying it myself. "Great."
"Great?"
"Yeah. We broke up" I smiled at the stars shining on us outside. Granted, there were only a few stars. The rest were blocked because of smog and city lights. But the few that were brave enough to shine through were appreciated.
"You like broke up, broke up?" He ran a hand through his already messy hair.
"Yep" I'm free! Free as a bird. Free as a man wrongly accused being released from jail. Free as a-
"Shouldn't you be sad?"
I shrugged. "No, I was the one who called things off"
"You broke up with a man who was just shot in the chest?" Chad's voice rose. "That's harsh"
"No, not harsh. I did it out of love" I hit the clicker on my key ring and heard my van unlock a few feet away.
"You're weird. Do you know that?"
"People have mentioned it a time or two. By the way, what are you doing for Thanksgiving? I'm having some people over. Would you like to join us?"
He continued to eye me suspiciously until I disappeared out of sight and climbed into my van.
"I guess," he called from the opposite side.
"Great. I'll add you to the guest list"
I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel as I backed out of the parking space. My industrial-strength vacuum cleaner shifted in the back, and I made a mental note to secure the device when I got home. I couldn't have equipment flying around in the back of my van, especially when I considered where that equipment had been.
"I was thinking about something while at the hospital" Chad's voice drew me out of my state of delirium.
"Oh?"
"What do you think about going into business together?"
I practically slammed on the brakes. Thankfully, we were still in the parking lot. I eased off the brake and crept through the lot. "Say again?"
"We work well together. I can do the stuff that you're not that great at"
"There's stuff I'm not great at?"
"You know, lifting heavy stuff"
Okay, I guess I could concede that. "Continue"
"We could take more jobs, make more money. Split it fifty-fifty"
"Fifty-fifty?"
"Sixty-forty?"
"That's better"
"Think about it. I know you don't like working alone."
I didn't like working alone, but how did he know that? Had I mentioned it earlier?
"You want to be partners? Or would you be my employee?"
"If I were partner, then I would share the load"
Someone to share the load with. Now that was a tempting offer.
I dropped Chad off at his place, which was, of course, right on the beach. He asked if I wanted to hang out for a while but I declined. I both loathed and felt fascinated by the man, which basically equaled the same thing as Mentos mixed with Diet Dr. Pepper-fun, explosive, and a very bad idea. Besides, Parker and I had just broken up. I needed to clear my head.
I watched Chad climb the wooden stairs to his oceanside abode. He unlocked his door and waved before disappearing inside. I wondered what the inside of his apartment looked like. I pictured a surfboard in the corner and various beach pictures decorating the walls. For some reason, I smiled. Against my better judgment.
I hummed "Don't Worry, Be Happy" as I pulled away. Chad was a "don't worry, be happy" kind of guy.
Of course, my dad had been that kind of guy also. They weren't the marrying type.
Not that I wanted to get married anytime soon. And definitely not to Chad Davis.
I wasn't the type of girl who dreamed about a big princess wedding. No, I was the type who dreamed about going to Vegas ... where Elvis could officiate. Of course, I would never look at Elvis the same way again, so that dream had to die.
<
br /> I leaned back in my seat and turned onto the highway. I couldn't wait to get home and unwind and listen to the new U2 CD I'd just purchased.
"Listen, and listen closely," someone whispered.
I bristled as I felt someone's breath tickle my cheek.
THE MAN'S breath felt warm and sticky and ... smelt like he'd just eaten a tub of popcorn. "I've got a gun, and I'm not afraid to use it."
Panic alarms wailed and whined in my head as I felt a barrel pressed into my side. The weapon of choice might have been a magic marker, but it could be a gun, and that was all I needed to know.
`Are you listening?" The voice was a harsh whisper, gruff.
I gripped the steering wheel so hard that my knuckles bulged like a snowcapped mountain range. "Yes"
"Leave the dead Elvis alone, got it?" The man's voice-and I was 99 percent sure the intruder was a man-sounded shaky. Great, I had a nervous criminal in my van. I just hoped he didn't accidentally pull the trigger if I hit a pothole. My eyes scanned the road briefly.
The gun poked harder. "Got it?"
"Got it" I glanced into my rearview mirror. Maybe I could get a look at the intruder, a clue to who the murderer was. Which could be useful ... if the man didn't kill me first.
"Don't do that!" The barrel pressed harder.
My rib cage cried for a time out. "Do what?"
"Keep your eyes on the road"
I licked my lips and stared at the taillights and traffic light ahead of me. "Okay" What street was I on? I needed to remember details, just in case I lived to tell the police about this. Great, no street signs. U2 would be proud that I was wandering where the streets have no name.
Suspicious Minds (Squeaky Clean Series, Book 2) Page 14
