Donna sat at the reception desk, talking on her cell phone. "Why, it's no trouble at all. We'll get one of our best agents to show you the house. Tomorrow will be fine. Okay, Two Turner Boulevard at nine. We'll see you then." She disconnected.
Turner Boulevard was right around the corner from my own house, and Donna knew it. Since my chances of being chosen to show the house were pretty much slim to none, I didn't even bother to inquire.
She glowered at me, her eyes as sharp as clear-blue glass. "Well, well, what do we have here?"
I placed the check in front of her. "The Anderson/Bovie deal closed."
Donna laughed. "Why, Cindy, congratulations. You actually made a sale this month."
I opened my mouth to make a comment, then clamped my lips shut. Don't take her bait. Keep quiet and collect your money.
Donna reached for a key and unlocked one of the drawers in the desk. She withdrew a ledger and proceeded to fill out a check without a single word. She tore the check out and tossed it in my direction.
I studied the amount. It was for two thousand dollars. "This isn't right. The check was supposed to be for twenty-two hundred dollars."
She switched off the laptop and avoided my gaze. "Your client cost us an additional thousand dollars with his stupidity. It seems only fair you should take a hit."
Anger formed in a ball at the pit of my stomach. "But I already took a hit. I lost five hundred dollars of my commission because of his stunts, and you know that. What gives you the right to withhold more?"
Donna folded her arms in triumph. "I can do anything I want. I'm the manager, not you."
"I'm not leaving until you give me the other two hundred." My voice quivered slightly, but there was no way I would back down now. "I'll turn you into the Real Estate Association."
Annoyed, Donna threw up her hands. "Go ahead. Do you think they'd listen to you? No. You're a murderer. They don't give two figs about you. No one does, except maybe your buddy Jacques. Oh, and did I tell you he's my new golden goose? I can deal with his snarky attitude as long as he brings in the dough."
"That's all Tiffany was to you too," I said. "She actually thought you were her friend. You were always thick as thieves, going out to lunch or parties together, but you never really cared about her. My conscience is clear. At least I never pretended to like her."
A shadow crossed over Donna's face. "You need to leave."
"Wait. There is something else you need to know." I sucked in a breath. "It concerns Ken."
Her eyes bore into mine. "You're too late. He already told me."
This was a surprise. "He did?"
"Sure." Donna put the checkbook away. "Women make passes at him all the time. No big deal. What did surprise me was that you would do such a thing. I always thought you were so in love with George that you'd never even look at another man."
My body froze, registering disbelief. "Excuse me? That is not what happened. Your husband made a pass at me. As a matter of fact, he kissed me and refused to back off, so I—"
Donna held up a hand to stop me. "Enough of your lies, please." She clucked her tongue at me in disdain. "I don't know how George puts up with you."
"It's Greg."
"Whatever."
"Look, Donna, I'm only telling you this because I would want to know if the shoe was on the other foot. And there's more."
She gave me a bored look and leaned back in her chair. "Gee, I can't wait to hear."
My heart knocked against the wall of my chest. "I think he knew that was Tiffany's house and was trying to set me up for the murder."
Her irate gaze settled on my face, and I was aware I'd gone too far. "How dare you."
I stood my ground and returned her stare. "Your husband, Keith, is a liar."
She narrowed her eyes at me. "His name is Ken."
I shrugged. "Whatever."
Donna's nostrils flared as she continued to glare at me. There was complete silence in the room for a good thirty seconds. Then she opened a drawer, removed a file folder, and thrust a piece of paper in my face.
"What's this?"
"It's your release from this agency. As you're aware, when you joined three years ago, we both signed a contract stating that either party could terminate the relationship at any time. Well, I've decided to end it. Adios. Au revoir. Get the hell out. I never want to lay eyes on you again."
Beyond angry, tears threatened to sting my eyes, but I wouldn't give her the satisfaction of seeing me cry. I blinked several times and then slammed the paper back down on the desk so hard that she nearly jumped out of her seat. "Fine. Who needs this place anyhow? You're a terrible manager. I can go to any other agency and make twice as much as I do here."
"You think so?" Donna chuckled. "Everyone knows you're a murderer. No one will hire a pariah like you."
"We'll see about that."
Donna put her hand out. "I'll take the keys to the office while we're at it."
I started to reach into my purse, defeated, then stopped. "No."
"No?" Donna echoed me incredulously.
I placed my hands on my hips and stared back at her defiantly. "You'll have to change the locks or give me my other two hundred."
Her voice was as cold as a glacier. "Give me those keys now, bitch."
"Sorry, no can do." I hoped she couldn't notice how my knees were trembling.
Donna's face turned purple. Changing the locks on the office was expensive. There were three different doors and all had commercial locks. How she loved telling people that her office was locked up tighter than Fort Knox was now coming back to haunt her.
"Well, bye, Donna. Do take care." I started for the door.
"Wait a minute." She reached for the checkbook and scribbled off another check in record time, tossed it on the floor, and got to her feet. "I have some mail to sort in the conference room. You have exactly five minutes to clean out your office. When I come back, you'd better be gone."
After I picked up the check and read it to make sure the amount was correct, I removed the keys from my ring and threw them on her desk. "Happy to oblige."
I clenched my teeth and ran into my office, slamming the door behind me. I wasn't going to give her the pleasure of watching me. There was an empty box sitting on top of my desk, obviously meant to be used for my hasty departure. Donna no doubt had already been planning to dump me even before our argument. I only wished I could have beaten her to the punch.
Still smarting, I threw pictures and personal folders into the box. I grabbed my sweater and the little, house-shaped plaque on the wall that Greg had given me when I began my real estate career. The caption read, I'm sold on you. As I held the plaque in my hands, my lower lip started to quiver. I wrapped it in the sweater and gently laid it in the box before putting the cover on. I took one last look around the room where I'd spent so much time the past three years, then switched off the light and shut the door behind me. Maybe it was for the best.
Donna was locking up the reception desk and didn't even acknowledge my presence as I shuffled past with my box. I started for the door, then stopped and turned around. "Good-bye, Donna, it's certainly been a unique experience working for you."
She dismissed me with a wave of her hand, not even bothering to look up. "Rot in hell. And if I have anything to do with it, that's exactly where you'll wind up for Tiffany's murder."
I slammed the door, hoping to convey my anger. My legs were numb as I stumbled to my car. Five minutes later, I was in the drive-thru lane of my bank. I deposited the larger check into our joint savings account and asked for the smaller one back in cash. Since our mortgage payment was due next week, this was perfect timing.
As I drove home, I reminded myself of my appointment tomorrow with Sylvia at No Place Like Home Realty. If I signed with her agency now, things might work out perfectly. Hopefully, I'd also get the listing from my friend Nancy's parents on Monday. They were moving to Florida and anxious to sell. Perhaps everything would start to turn around for me then.<
br />
I turned onto our street to see a fire truck and a police car parked in front of my house with lights flashing. Sheer panic gripped me as I drove closer. I threw the car in park and jumped out, rushing toward the house.
A policeman met me in the driveway. "Are you Mrs. York?"
My heart stuttered in my chest. "Yes! My babies. Are they—?"
"We called your husband since we couldn't reach you," the policeman explained. "He'll be here shortly. Your boys are fine. They started a small kitchen fire. You could be in trouble for leaving two young kids alone, ma'am."
A small crowd of neighbors had gathered behind me.
I drew my eyebrows together. "I didn't leave them alone. My daughter, Darcy, is fifteen. She was watching them while I was at a real estate closing."
He shook his head. "There's no one else in the house, ma'am."
As if on cue, the twins marched out the front door, each with a Popsicle in hand.
"Hi, Mom," Stevie said.
Perplexed, I stared at them. "Stevie, Seth, where's your sister?"
Seth shrugged. "I don't know. She didn't come home on the bus with us."
A voice from behind me spoke up. "I think she might have stayed for cheerleading practice."
Startled, I whirled around and tried not to groan. Tyler.
I turned back to the policeman. "She was supposed to come home with the boys. I don't know what happened."
Stevie was concentrating hard on his Popsicle. "When we didn't see her, we took the key under the mat and let ourselves in. Seth was hungry, so we made toast. I guess he forgot it was on."
"I didn't forget it was on, dummy, you did!" Seth cried.
I couldn't believe my ears. "How could you forget the toaster was on? And you know you're not supposed to be using it when no one else is home."
"Lame brain left it too close to the curtains." Seth nudged Stevie with his elbow.
"I did not."
"You did too."
I grabbed each twin by an arm. "That's enough. I can't believe you guys would do something like that."
"But we were hungry, Mom," Seth whined, his mouth full of Popsicle.
Stevie proudly showed me his orange tongue. "Sorry, Mom."
The policeman stared at me intently until I released my hold on their arms. I forced a smile to my lips. "Um, what happened next?"
"There was a lot of smoke, then the alarm started going off," Seth said. He stooped to pick up Rusty.
"And then?" I asked, incredulous.
"I called 9-1-1, just like you taught us." Stevie grinned proudly. "And I timed them. It only took the firemen five minutes to get here."
As if on cue, a fireman walked out of the house at that moment and nodded toward me. "It's all out, ma'am. Part of your countertop burned and, of course, the curtains are history. It could have been a lot worse though." He gave each of the twins a high five. "Good job. That was quick thinking, guys."
"Thanks." Stevie and Seth chimed in unison.
I wiped at my perspiring forehead. "Thank you so much."
"No problem, ma'am." The fireman tipped his helmet as two other firemen exited the front door. They nodded toward me and the boys.
"You really shouldn't leave such young kids home alone," one admonished me.
"I didn't leave them alone. Well, not on purpose," I stammered.
Greg's car screeched to a stop on the side of the road. He ran up the driveway and pushed through the small crowd that had gathered around us. He grabbed the twins in his arms. "Are you guys all right?"
"We're okay, Dad," Stevie reassured him.
Greg looked at me in confusion. "Where the hell is Darcy?"
"Apparently, she stayed for cheerleading practice." My throat tightened. I couldn't believe our daughter had been so irresponsible. I was trying desperately not to turn on the waterworks in front of the policeman. "Greg, I told her to come home. She knew she had to babysit today."
"I know you did." Greg put an arm around me. "Officer, this has been a huge misunderstanding."
The policeman nodded. "It seems that way. I'm just glad these little guys weren't hurt."
"My daughter, Darcy, was supposed to be here. She'll be home shortly if you'd like to question her. She owes everyone an apology." Greg glanced at me. "That's the least she can do for all the trouble she's caused."
Darcy had never forgotten to babysit before. I had to assume there was only one reason for this stunt of hers. She was angry and had deliberately disobeyed me.
The policeman tipped his hat and shook hands with the boys, who smiled sweetly at him. They always knew when to turn on the charm. Such little darlings.
The fire truck pulled away with the police car following closely behind. Our neighbors seemed content that the disaster was over and dispersed to their homes.
The twins danced into the house with Greg and me following slowly behind. Greg shut the door, and I flopped onto the couch.
"Baby, you don't look so good. Are you going to faint again?"
"No, I'll be okay. I just need to rest for a second."
The twins took the puppy and headed downstairs while Greg paced back and forth in front of me. "I've had it with her, Cin. Look at everything we've got going on around here. And we can't even count on our daughter for any help."
"Greg," I began.
His lips pursed in a thin line. "No, that's it. She's grounded. No shopping, cheerleading practice, or formal dance this weekend."
I knew he was right, but that didn't make me feel any better. Darcy had been looking forward to this dance for a month, not to mention the two hundred dollars we'd already spent on the dress. I wondered if we could still return it to the store. "It'll break her heart."
Greg snorted. "That's too bad. Maybe now she'll learn everything in this world doesn't revolve around her."
I stretched out on the couch with my hand over my eyes and exhaled deeply while he went to the kitchen to survey the damage. Angry curse words flew through the air. Greg had put those kitchen counters in last year and spent many hours doing so. I remained quiet. There was no use arguing with him when he got like this, but I'd never seen him so angry with Darcy. She was his little girl, his princess. Sadly, I also knew it didn't matter what he said to her. Darcy would find a way to redirect her anger toward me as she always did these days.
I heard a car in the driveway and lifted the curtain to look outside. Our dependable daughter was waving good-bye to Heather and her mother.
Greg walked back into the living room. "Is that her?"
I nodded as my stomach rumbled again. I was dreading the confrontation but also knew it was inevitable.
The doorknob turned slowly, and Darcy appeared before our eyes. She had already changed from her cheerleading outfit back into jeans and a tank top. She glanced at me, sitting on the couch with my head in my hands, then at Greg who stood by the door with his arms folded, glaring at her.
"Hello." She tossed her hair defiantly to the side and headed for the staircase. The move wasn't lost on me. She was definitely annoyed about something.
Greg grabbed her by the arm. "Wait a minute, young lady. You have some explaining to do."
Darcy seemed shocked by his attitude. "About what?"
"You know exactly what. You were supposed to come home to watch your brothers this afternoon."
Darcy shrugged. "I don't remember that."
"Please don't lie," I said. "I asked you yesterday and reminded you again this morning. You knew."
She avoided my gaze. "I guess I forgot."
"I am so tired of your insolence," Greg growled. "Thanks to your irresponsibility, your brothers tried to set fire to the house today."
Her face turned whiter than paste. "Are they okay?"
Greg placed his hands on his hips. "Yeah, no thanks to you. The fire department was here, and the whole kitchen countertop is burned. Your brothers could have been killed because of your selfishness."
Darcy's eyes filled, and she immediately starte
d crying. I got to my feet and went over to comfort her.
"They're all right." I put my arm around her. "It could have been much worse."
Darcy shook my arm off. "Don't touch me."
Startled by her action, I turned to Greg, who looked as baffled as I did.
"Don't speak to your mother that way."
She ignored Greg and stared at me, eyes filled with venom. "Do you know why I didn't come home? Because I was pissed at you. All people do is laugh at me. They whisper when I come down the hall, and they point their fingers at me. I know what they're saying. 'Her mom's a murderer.' You're ruining my life."
My jaw almost hit the floor. I stood there, not knowing what to say.
Fortunately, Greg did. He walked over to Darcy and put his face literally inches away from hers. When she tried to back away, he followed. "You're in big trouble. And don't blame your mother. She's been through enough this week without having to deal with your selfish attitude."
Darcy was silent, studying the dark-blue carpet.
"You're grounded," Greg went on. "To school and back for the next week is the only place you'll be going. That's it. No cheerleading practice, no dates, no going over to friends' houses, and especially no dance this weekend."
"You can't do that," Darcy cried in alarm.
He raised his eyebrows at her. "I can, and I just did."
Darcy whirled around to face me. "I hate you!" She grabbed her book bag and ran up the stairs. Her bedroom door slammed seconds later.
I slumped onto the couch and managed to choke out a small laugh. "You ground her, but she hates me."
Greg sat down and put his arms around me. "Don't let it bother you. She's got to learn what she did was wrong." He kissed me on the forehead. "How'd the closing go? Did the country bumpkin show up?"
"Yes, eventually." I leaned my head on his shoulder. "By some miracle of God, we now have money in the bank, too."
Killer Transaction (Cindy York Mysteries Book 1) Page 14
