“Show’s over, folks,” said Mert. “Back to work.
31
By three o’clock, we were staggering around from the effects of the heat and general exhaustion. Every muscle in my body screamed in protest.
Mert whistled us to the gathering spot.
Taking off our masks and helmets was such a treat. There wasn’t much of a breeze, but the maple leaves sheltered us from the sun. My hair was soaked with perspiration and glued to my head. Even Trudy suffered from an advanced case of hood-hair. Her ponytail was dripping wet with perspiration. Johnny’s forehead was dotted with sweat, and Mert couldn’t have been more tuckered out. Her shoulders slumped and her head drooped. We opened our Tyvek suits so we could cool down. If you ignored the white jumpers, we looked like a trio who’d entered a wet tee shirt contest…and lost.
“Let’s take a minute to recap where we are,” Mert said wearily.
Trudy had been tasked with hanging all Marla’s clothes in wardrobe boxes to be taken to a laundry facility. Every piece of fabric in the house stunk of cat pee. After consulting with Mert, who then called Ali, Trudy tossed all Marla’s shoes into boxes. The footwear would have to be burned because most of it had been used as litter boxes. After completing that particular chore, Trudy had worked steadily all afternoon to sort through a huge stack of jewelry boxes.
“I filled this bag with junk like plastic bangles,” said Trudy. “I know you’ll want to show Mrs. Timmons, but I did try to sort the obvious garbage from pieces that might have value.”
Johnny had been assigned the garage. Sagging cardboard boxes had been stacked high around Marla’s car, and each of these was stuffed to the brim with rags, tools, pieces of wood, and so on. All of that had to be sorted. Who knew what might be sitting at the bottom of a box? One by one, he’d removed them and gone through the contents. He was about a third of the way done.
Mert had emptied a sideboard, taking her time wrapping and boxing up glasses, dishes, bowls, and cutlery. “There was Spode china in there and cut glass, so I took extra care packing it. I cain’t tell if it’s worth anything, but it looked like nice dinnerware.”
I’d been assigned the task of boxing up the pots and pans, mixing bowls, and kitchen utensils. The kitchen was now empty.
“We’re making progress. Slow and steady,” Mert said.
A bronze Jeep pulled up to the curb in front of the house.
The man who climbed out was obviously Ali Timmons’ twin, Allen Lever. No question about it. With a change of hairstyle and a shave, he could have taken her place, except that he was smaller than his sister. But whereas Ali exuded self-righteous authority, Allen could have made a guest appearance as the nerd in an episode of The Office, thanks to his thick glasses, lace-up shoes, and the plastic pen protector in the top pocket of his polyester shirt. He stood with his hands on the hips of his polyester pants as he surveyed the Dumpster, recycling bins, and trash bags. With a shake of his head, he came closer to us, giving a small tug on his collar to let a little air in.
“Which of you is Mert Chambers?”
Mert stepped forward and introduced herself.
“I thought I’d poke around. See if Mom kept my old vinyl records.”
“I am sorry, sir, but I cain’t allow that.” For the second time that day, Mert explained her responsibility to Ali Timmons.
“I’ve got my own key to Mom’s house.”
“Your sister changed the locks,” Mert said quietly. “Did that first thing after your mom was taken to the hospital, and the police checked out the premises.”
“Shoot.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Ali thinks of everything, doesn’t she?”
None of us responded. What could we say?
Trudy, however, shifted her weight and gave her hair a toss in a totally “come hither” way. Considering how wet it was, the gesture seemed ridiculous. For the first time, I took a long hard look at her. Not only had she shrugged off the top of her Tyvek jumpsuit, but she’d obviously also decided to go braless today. Wooo-ee, and Allen Lever was getting an eye full.
“Mr. Lever, sir, I suggest you call your sister. If she gives me permission, you can have access,” Mert said.
“What are you doing with the stuff you find?” Tearing his eyes away from Trudy, Allen shoved one hand into his pants pocket and jingled change. “I mean, I assume you’re sifting through all this. There might be a few nuggets of gold in that trash.”
“This here’s called a truck deck.” Mert slapped the back of her truck. “Fits under my truck bed liner. See them locks? That’s how I’m protecting anything that looks like it might be of value.”
She went on to explain how she logged and took photos of anything that could possibly be high-dollar. These items were tucked inside the storage drawers that slid under the deck of her truck bed. Only Mert knew the combinations to the padlocks. She even offered to show him proof that she was insured, but Allen waved that away.
“Granddad owned a bunch of woodworking tools that I’d like to have,” said Allen, as he pulled his keys out of his pocket. He began tossing them in the air and catching them repeatedly. “My grandfather and a couple of his friends did sculptures out of wood. In fact, there might be a few of them still left in the garage. If there are, I want them.”
“I haven’t come across those yet. Are they clear in the back of the garage?” Johnny asked. “I’m only a third of the way along.”
“They could be,” Allen said.
“I’ll keep an eye out for them,” Johnny said.
You could tell that Allen Lever wanted to voice a protest, but after a short stare-down he finally nodded.
“How is your mother?” Mert asked.
Allen wiped a bead of perspiration from his forehead.
“Here.” Trudy trotted over and offered the man a bottle of water.
“Thanks.” He took the bottle. “It doesn’t look good. I guess all we can do is pray. She’s been off her nut for years. We cut off contact, trying to force her to get help. She told me she was seeing someone, a psychologist, but I’m not sure I believe that. I wasn’t supposed to be in contact with her—Ali said if we both backed off maybe she’d come around—but I still called her now and again. I’d come by once in a blue moon and take her to lunch. Bring her bags of cat food and kitty litter. Try to talk sense into her. I mean, Ali said we needed to take a stand, but….”
“She was still your mother,” Mert filled in for him.
So he was the initial “A” who’d brought Marla the cat food.
“You poor baby,” said Trudy, batting her lashes. “You must be heartbroken.”
I rolled my eyes at Johnny, and he fought a snicker.
“You know it, but Ali is my big sister — she’s the oldest by five minutes – she kept telling me to stay away.” He shoved his hands and the keys deep in his pockets. “Now this. Maybe if I hadn’t listened to Ali, I could have gotten through to Mom. At least she might have called me about the A/C going out. It’s a good thing someone found her before it was too late.”
“The person to thank is right there,” said Mert, pointing a finger in my direction.
“I’m Kiki Lowenstein.” I stepped forward. Allen stared at me as if trying to place my name. “Your mother frequented the scrapbook store where I work. She seemed like a nice person. I’m keeping her in my prayers.”
“Look, I’m grateful that you called an ambulance, but why’d you have to get the cops involved?”
I opened my mouth to explain that I hadn’t called the cops, that they came in response to my 911 call, but he wasn’t finished.
“You say you know Mom. Well, then you have to know that Mom wouldn’t hurt a fly. Literally. That’s how she got into this mess. She never met an animal she didn’t love. A few of those cats were wild and would just as soon attack you as look at you, but Mom couldn’t stand the idea of them being homeless. The idea of her killing someone and stuffing that woman in her freezer, well, that’s just crazy! Thanks to you, t
he cops think she’s a killer!”
He’d wound himself up. With each word, his face got redder and redder. He finished his water and tossed the empty bottle on the ground. The message was clear: we were supposed to pick up after him.
“Your brother-in-law stopped by earlier,” Mert said, in an attempt to change the subject. With a minimum of fuss, she picked up the empty plastic bottle.
“Yeah, great. Just great. What did good old Devon want?”
“Same as you.”
“Except he doesn’t have any right to any of this. I do. Especially my granddad’s tools.”
“I also explained to him that he needed to call Mrs. Timmons. If she gives me a release, I’ll follow her instructions. Just so you know, I’m being consistent.”
“Consistent but not fair! Part of this is mine,” Allen said as his face turned redder and redder. “My sister had no right to hire you without my consent. She can’t keep me off this property or away from Mom’s stuff.”
Mert sighed. “That’s something for you to take up with her.”
“Believe me, I will. I’m not going to beg Ali for anything. Do you hear me? Everything on this property is mine as much as hers. She had no right to hire you! None!”
Mert stuck to her message. “I understand, and I am sorry, but you’ll have to take it up with your sister.”
“Believe me, I will.”
He turned on his heel and stomped off toward his car. But when he reached the handle of his Jeep, he stopped and yelled, “When I come back, I plan to kick you all off her property. Including you, scrapbook girl. What’s your name? Lowenstein? Huh? Yeah, that’s it. I won’t forget you! None of this would have happened if you hadn’t gone and called the cops.”
32
Allen Lever jumped into his car and keyed the engine, but before he could put the Jeep in gear, we heard a shout.
“Allen! Allen, wait!”
Our heads swiveled toward the sound, as a man stepped out of the tall grasses at the rear of Marla’s yard. Picking his way carefully through the weeds, he moved toward us, but he didn’t give us a second glance. He was totally focused on Allen Lever.
“Allen, wait up!”
Rolling down his window and shielding his eyes with his hand, Allen Lever scanned the yard. Because he was facing the sun, he squinted. “Fred? That you?”
“In the flesh.” The interloper stalked right past us without acknowledging our presence. As he passed by, I noticed a hint of gray in his buzz-cut hair. Otherwise, I didn’t get a good look at Fred, because he made a beeline toward Allen Lever.
The two men exchanged a manly hug, more like a shoulder bump than a real embrace. As we watched they talked in low tones, obviously keeping their conversation a secret. The men couldn’t have been more different. The newcomer reminded me of a bantam rooster, overtly showy and crowing about his manhood. I’d guess he was in his late fifties. His red knit shirt was open at the neck so that a gold chain could sparkle in the sunlight. A pinky ring with a large stone winked from his little finger.
My fellow cleaners and I didn’t move. We all suspected that this Fred, or whatever his name was, would give Mert more grief about the cleaning process. Sure enough, the men finished talking, and Fred waited for Allen to pull away. Then he walked toward us with a stiff-legged gait.
“You have to forgive Allen,” said the newcomer as he watched Marla Lever’s son drive away. “I heard him raise his voice to you, but that’s not like him. He’s obviously distressed. He’s usually very calm under pressure. A great guy. Smart as a whip.”
“I’m Mert Chambers.” My friend extended her hand yet again.
“Fred Ernest,” he introduced himself and grabbed her hand. I could tell from the wince, he squeezed it hard. “It’s a real shame about Mrs. Lever, isn’t it? Who would have guessed? A cat hoarder and a murderer living in a nice neighborhood like this. Boggles the mind, doesn’t it?”
He raised his hand to adjust his collar. The motion sent off a wave of expensive men’s cologne.
Mert nodded. “The jury is still out on whether she had anything to do with the corpse in her freezer.”
“Looks pretty bad for poor Marla, doesn’t it? Beating someone to death with a baseball bat. That’s amazing.” Fred extended his hand to each of us in turn, asking our names, and passing out business cards. I was glad I didn’t wear rings anymore because his handshake would have been painful.
“You live next-door?” Mert glanced back the way that Fred had come through the weeds.
“For more than a decade and a half now. I’ve tried to be a good neighbor, honestly I have. After Marla’s husband walked out on her, I told her I’d do whatever I could to help out. I cleaned her driveway in the winter, offered to mow her lawn, and drove her to the store when her car quit working. I did my best to be a good role model for Allen, too. Took him to ball games. You know the drill. Guy stuff. Poor kid. Totally henpecked with a mom and a sister who was frankly overbearing. But as for Marla, Lord knows I encouraged her to clean the place up. Did everything I could. She’d get the place under control for about a month and wham! Back to this. Disgusting, isn’t it?”
“You put up with all her cats?” asked Trudy. She batted her lashes and tugged the scrunchy from her ponytail. When her hair was free, she shook it out, letting the damp locks drape over her shoulders.
Personally, I thought her behavior was a bit much. I didn’t think Fred was at all attractive, but I’m picky like that. Maybe too picky. I pushed aside thoughts of Detweiler.
“The cats didn’t bother me. Not really. I have too much on my plate. I own my own business, and I keep crazy hours. Phone calls all the time. Meetings with clients. Busy, busy, busy,” he said as he hoisted his pants.
“Wow, and this is your company?” asked Trudy, tapping the business card. Again she began with the hair flipping.
“Right. Computer installations. Huge deals. Megabucks.”
I covered my mouth rather than laugh out loud. I hate when people brag about money. It’s so unseemly. If you have it, why shout about it? Surely we’ll figure it out on our own.
“How long you think you’re going to be working here?” asked Fred.
“Until the job is done,” Mert said.
“Allen told me that one of you stumbled into this mess?”
“I did,” I said.
“Thank goodness you did. Probably saved Marla’s life. How’d that happen?”
“We were supposed to have a scrapbooking party here.”
He affected a thoughtful posture, tapping his cheek with his index finger. “That’s right. Marla mentioned it to me. As you can see, her house would not have been the ideal place for a get-together. Not at all.”
None of us responded.
“Okay.” He slapped his hands together. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. This is great because Marla’s mess hurts all of our property values. Especially mine. Everything in my house is top-of-the-line. Custom built. Spent a fortune on landscaping. You should see my exotic orchids.”
Uh, no thanks, I thought.
“I hope we’ll be through by the end of this week,” Mert said.
“If I can help you in any way, let me know.” With that, he started to walk away, but he turned to ask, “By the way, what’s the update on Marla’s condition? I forgot to ask Allen. Didn’t want to upset him. I could call Ali, of course.”
“We’ve been told Marla is in a bad way,” said Mert. “That’s all I know.”
“But do they expect her to come out of it?” The man sounded truly concerned. “With her wits about her?”
“I couldn’t say.” Mert shook her head sadly.
33
“I’ve almost got that full.” With a jerk of my head, I indicated to Mert that we’d need a second recycling container for newspapers. Four o’clock and the muscles in my back had already seized up. Did I know how to have a good time or what?
I grabbed a bottle of cold water and chased down two Advils. Planting my knuckle
s in my lower back, I did the best I could to give myself relief.
“Johnny?” Mert called to her brother. “Check out the garage and see if there’s anything in there we can use temporarily. Drag stuff out if you need to. We’ll need a path.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He wandered off. In a few minutes he was back. “You got to see this.”
We dutifully followed Johnny into the garage, although we couldn’t go very far. Marla’s car took up most of the space.
“This here car’s a cream puff,” said Johnny, in an admiring tone. I didn’t need a look-see, because I’d seen Marla’s car before. The gold Impala had a cream leather roof and matching interior. Unlike the rest of everything that Marla owned, the car was spotless. Johnny carefully opened a door and reached in the glove compartment. “All the service records are here. Looks like she took fantastic care of this beast. Low mileage, too.”
After giving the car a few more lustful glances, Johnny added, “But that ain’t all. You’ll have to walk sideways, but you can get through to the back now. I’ve cleared a path.”
I dutifully followed my friends deeper into the building.
“Allen was right. See these? Totems!” His arm swept wide and he stepped back. A bear, a sun, a bald eagle, and a pond lily stared out of a tree trunk. All had been carved crudely, as if the artist had started and been called away. Behind that totem stood other large pieces of uncut wood, looking like telephone poles, but more roughly hewn.
“Dusty as all get out,” said Mert, running a finger over the statue. “Did you find the tools?”
“Yeah.” Johnny pointed to another area of the garage, but my eyes were struggling to adjust. “Chainsaws, hacksaws, keyhole saws, chisels, chains of all sizes, a skid, and a wood chipper. Makes sense, don’t it? The old man musta cut down the trees himself. Dragged them here. Worked on them.”
“Look at that.” Trudy pushed past us.
After squinting, I saw it, a large pulley attached to a support beam. From the pulley dangled a short length of chain that split into two shorter lengths connected to a metal bar with hooks on each end.
Kiki Lowenstein Books 1-3 & Cara Mia Delgatto Books 1-3: The Perfect Series for Crafters, Pet Lovers, and Readers Who Like Upbeat Books! Page 58
