The Good Neighbors

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The Good Neighbors Page 8

by Kiersten Modglin


  Bryant nodded, reaching out to shake their hands. “Thanks, Officers. We really appreciate you coming out to check.” With that, the two men left, saying a final goodbye as they made it out the door. Bryant turned to Harper, heaving a dramatic sigh. “Well, that’s one way to come home, eh?”

  She shook her head, unable to rid herself of the uneasy feeling. “Yeah. I could’ve sworn I shut the door though.”

  He hugged her. “Don’t beat yourself up over it. At least we’re both safe and nothing’s missing.”

  She wrapped her arms around him, tucking her face into his chest and letting the tears of adrenaline fall. She’d been so worried, and now that the officers were gone, she finally allowed herself to feel it all. She lifted her head up, prepared to kiss her husband, and gasped.

  “What is it?” he asked, turning around to see what had caught her eye.

  “What the hell is that?” she demanded.

  There, hanging off the kitchen chair was a red, lacy bra. If she had to guess, it was about two cup sizes larger than her own.

  “I have no idea,” Bryant said, though his voice had lost its power. “It’s not yours?”

  She walked over to the chair, staring at the bra. “You know it’s not,” she said hastily. “Why would this be here?”

  “I have no idea,” he said, swallowing hard. “It wasn’t here when we left.”

  “So someone was here.” She reached for her phone. “We need to call the police again.”

  He shook his head, seeming unsure. “I don’t know. I mean, if we call them back…there’s still not anyone here. What, we’re just going to give them this bra? Tell them it was hanging on the chair and wasn’t yours? I don’t want to waste their time anymore.”

  “You heard them. This is their job,” she insisted.

  “DNA testing bras?”

  “Bras that are in houses they don’t belong in, yes. Why are you acting like I’m the crazy one here?”

  He rubbed his forehead. “Look, if you want to call them, we can. All I’m saying is…when we tell them nothing’s missing—still—but we think someone broke in and dropped off a bra, they’re going to think we’re insane.”

  She sighed, realizing how crazy it sounded. “You’re right.”

  “We’ll just throw it away and forget about it, okay? Nothing’s missing. No one’s here. It’s probably just a misunderstanding.”

  “A misunderstanding?”

  “Maybe Tori came over to do laundry and left it.”

  “Why would Tori be in our house doing laundry?” she demanded. “Besides, how do you even know it’s hers?” It stung. She wouldn’t deny that. The fact that he’d assume the bra that wouldn’t fit his wife would be Tori’s.

  “I’m just guessing,” he said stiffly. “Look, we’re freaking out about nothing.”

  She shook her head. Was he right? It didn’t feel like nothing. Someone had obviously been in her house. But, was it Tori? If she’d come over, Harper wouldn’t mind, but why wouldn’t she have shut the door? More than that, why would she have left her bra? She could go over and ask, she guessed, but that seemed weird.

  Finally, she let out a sigh. There was no logical reason for any of it, and yet, she was realizing it was something she’d have to let go. At least for now. She grabbed a large Ziploc bag from the drawer, picking up the bra with her fingertips and easing it into the bag before shoving it into a junk drawer and going to scrub her hands. It felt dirty, somehow, but she didn’t want to throw it out in case it was Tori’s. She’d have to find a way to ask her.

  She turned around. “You okay?” she asked. Her husband stood in the doorway, his eyes still as wide as when he’d pulled into the drive.

  “Yeah,” he said, blinking himself out of a trance. “It’s just been a weird night.”

  She nodded as a cold chill ran over her. “Weird doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

  Twenty-Three

  Harper

  The next evening, Harper collapsed on the couch after work next to Bryant, propping her feet up on the coffee table. The old couch was so worn, it had a permanent place for her in the cushion, but they’d had it since they’d gotten their first place, and she couldn’t bear to part with the many memories made on it: cramming for finals, pigging out after a hard day, hours of binge watching so many of their favorite shows, and so much more.

  Bryant rested his head on hers, flipping through the channels aimlessly. “Did you see the new trailer for The Walking Dead?” he asked.

  She laughed. “I saw where you shared it on Facebook this morning. So dang cool. I can’t believe—” She stopped as a sharp rap at the door interrupted her. “Who is that?” she asked, sitting up.

  The couple stood from the couch, and Bryant approached the door apprehensively. He looked through the beveled glass. “What the hell?” As he pulled open the door, Harper got a look at the person standing before them: a pizza delivery boy with a tower of pizza boxes in his outstretched arms. “Uh, what’s this?” Bryant asked.

  “Your pizzas,” the boy answered, letting out a sigh as if to emphasize the fact that they were heavy. “This is eight fourteen, right?” He stepped back to look at the house number.

  “Yeah, it is,” Bryant said, shaking his head while still not taking the boxes. “But we didn’t order any pizza.”

  “Well, it says you did,” he said. “It’s already paid for.”

  Bryant shook his head again. “I don’t understand.”

  “Look, my boss isn’t gonna let me leave unless you take the pizza.”

  “What kind are they?” Bryant asked, as if that mattered.

  Finally, the boy sat the pizzas on the ground. “I’m sorry, but there you go.” He looked at the receipt on top of the box, comparing it once again with the house number. “I don’t know who ordered them, but this is your address. Have a nice night. guys. I’ve got other deliveries.” With that, he turned around, disappearing down the porch steps and back to the beat-up blue car in the driveway.

  Bryant turned to look at Harper. “What the hell?” he repeated.

  “I don’t know,” she said, trying to rub away the goosebumps that had appeared on her arms. “I guess bring them in.”

  “Seven pizzas?” he said, his voice filled with surprise. “What on earth are we going to do with seven pizzas? I don’t even think we could eat seven pizzas in a week.”

  “Not before we get tired of it,” Harper said, lifting a few boxes off the top of the stack. “Maybe you could take some of it to your classes tomorrow.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, maybe. Who would’ve sent it, though?”

  “Maybe it’s one of those ‘pay it forward’ things,” she responded.

  “Well, someone majorly paid it forward, then. I hope it’s not delivered to the wrong house. They’ll be coming back and making us pay for it or something.”

  “I can’t see how they could do that,” Harper argued. “And it does have our address on it.” She pointed to the receipt. “Strange.” She opened the lid, letting out a gasp. “Well, that’s weird. Mine has the pepperonis in the shape of a ‘T’ on it. Does yours have letters? Maybe it spells your name or something.”

  He lifted one lid, then another. “Yeah, letters. I have a…H, R, and…hmm,” he opened his last box, “and A. What are the rest of yours?”

  “I have a C, E, and another E, plus my T. What does it mean?” Harper asked, staring at the letters in confusion. “Surely it means something.”

  The couple stared at the letters, their heads bouncing from one side to the other as they studied the letters. Finally, Harper had solved it. “Cheater?” she asked. “It spells cheater.”

  Bryant frowned. “That can’t be the only thing it spells.”

  “Why would someone send us pizza with toppings spelling ‘cheater’?” she asked, a sick feeling washing over her.

  Bryant’s face lit up suddenly, and he held up a finger. “I know who sent it.”

  “Who?” she demanded.

 
“A student in my class. I gave him detention today for cheating on his test. This must be some kind of practical joke.”

  “Well, it isn’t very funny,” Harper said with a hand on her hip. “It’s wasteful.”

  “I know,” Bryant agreed. “I’ll bring it to class tomorrow, like you said. In the meantime, looks like we’re both off the hook for dinner tonight.” He grabbed a slice, popping it into his mouth. “Come on, Schitt’s Creek is getting ready to start.”

  She nodded, grabbing a piece and following suit. She’d give in and follow his lead, though she didn’t completely buy his story. Something strange was going on, and each day, things just seemed to get weirder. She was determined to find out the truth, whether her husband wanted to or not.

  Twenty-Four

  Bryant

  The next day, after Harper had left for work, Bryant headed straight for Tori’s office. He was a mess. He had to confront her about the bra in his home. Her bra. The same bra she’d been wearing the day they’d had sex, and then about the pizzas last night. Even though he’d somewhat convinced Harper she was the one to leave the door unlatched, he knew it was him. But he’d told her he was sure if it was him, he’d shut it well. He wouldn’t take the blame. It was locked when they’d left, he assured her. It had to be. Which meant Tori had to have picked the locks. Unless, he’d somehow forgotten to lock the back door. Unless they were somehow responsible for the mugging. They’d have the key, then. But that was crazy. All of this was absolutely preposterous. So many possibilities swam through his mind…none of them making any real sense. He had to put an end to it. And now.

  He pulled into her parking lot, marching in the door with gusto. “Can I help you?” A petite, red headed receptionist greeted him from behind thick glasses.

  “I need to see Tori.”

  “Doctor Fuller is with a patient right now. Do you have an appointment?”

  “No,” he said firmly. “But I need to see her. It’ll just take a second. Can you tell her it’s an emergency?”

  The receptionist looked uncomfortable but eventually stood up and walked down a long hall. After a moment, she reappeared. “She’ll be right out.”

  He walked toward the chairs, but didn’t sit. He was too nervous. He paced around, waiting to see her, planning what he’d say when he did.

  “Bryant?” Her honey-like voice called to him from across the room, and he spun around. Her lips parted slightly, her eyes locked on his, and she tilted her head up just a bit, looking confused. “What are you doing here?”

  “We need to talk,” he said, walking past her and to the office. She didn’t stop him, following closely behind and shutting the door after they’d entered. She didn’t speak at first, her eyes sizing him up as her arms folded across her chest.

  She spoke with a slight smirk on her face. “What can I do for you?”

  “Cut the shit, Tori. I know what you’re doing, and it ends now.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You’re mad because I called it off, and now you’re stalking me.”

  She scoffed, holding her hands up in front of her chest. “Wait, hold on, stalking you? Are you kidding me? No, baby, I’m not stalking you.”

  “Don’t call me ‘baby.’ Don’t call me anything. I told you I wanted you to stay away from me, and then you go and break into my house. What kind of sick person are you? You left your bra for my wife to find? Are you trying to get us caught? Is that it? You want her to know? ’Cause if that’s your plan, I’d rather you just tell her now than continue toying with me.”

  “You want her to know about us?”

  He sucked in a breath, pressing his lips together. “No, of course not. But I can’t live like this, either.”

  “Bryant, I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Well, if you don’t, then how do you explain your red bra at my house?”

  “Is that where it is? I’ve been looking for it, but I have no idea how it’d get there.”

  “You’re lying,” he insisted. “You’re playing games. Fucking with my head because I hurt you. I’m sorry, okay? I never meant to—”

  “Let me stop you right there,” she said, stepping forward. In her heels, she was just as tall as him, her blue-green eyes lining up with his brown ones perfectly. “You didn’t hurt me. Am I pissed? Yeah, a little bit. I don’t do rejection. I never have. What you did…cheating on your wife and then trying to make me feel bad about it—”

  “You cheated on your husband, too—”

  “I wasn’t finished,” she screeched. “What you did was wrong, but I’ve moved on. I’m happy. I can have anyone I want. I can do anything I want.” She took a step even closer, her warm breath on his face. “So, you choosing to walk away…well, you just beat me to it. Honestly, I would’ve gotten bored with you, anyway. But let me tell you what’s not going to happen…you coming to my office. Never again, hear me? Never. You don’t wanna see me? Fine. Two can play that game, Bryant. But if you wanna do this, you’ll start a war. Stay the hell out of my office and out of my life, or I promise you, you’ll be sorry. Now,” she said, lowering her gaze to his lips so quickly he was sure she was going to go in for a kiss, “get out.”

  Twenty-Five

  Harper

  On her way out to her car that evening, Tori found her in the parking lot. “Harper!” she called, waving a quick hand over her head before she saw her.

  “Hey,” Harper said. “Everything okay?” She was honestly shocked to see her. It had been weeks since the last time she tracked her down at work.

  “Yeah, everything’s fine. Actually, I felt like I should apologize to you.”

  “Apologize for what?” she asked.

  “For the bra. Bryant mentioned you guys found it at your house. Truth is, I’d come over to see if you knew anything about sewing. The strap is starting to wear down, and it’s my favorite. I’m useless with a needle and thread on anything except skin, but I thought you might be able to help. Anyway, I didn’t mean to leave it there. When I came over, your door was open, and I laid it down to go check and see if you guys were home or okay or whatever. I guess I got startled and left it there. I’m really sorry again. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “Oh, it’s okay,” Harper said. “Honestly. But…did you say the door was open when you arrived? When was that?”

  “Um, Saturday night, I guess it would’ve been.”

  “Did you shut it back when you left?”

  “Well, of course. I didn’t have a way to lock it, because I don’t have a key and we don’t have your numbers, but we kept an eye on it. I just assumed it didn’t latch correctly. Those doors can be tricky,” she said, her eyes narrowing.

  “Yeah, I guess so. It was back open when we came home.”

  “What?” Tori gasped, covering her mouth. “I know it was shut when I left. Do you think someone broke in?”

  “If they did, they didn’t take anything,” Harper said. “You never saw anyone come by?”

  “Never,” Tori vowed. “That’s terrifying.”

  “Have you guys ever had any trouble at your place?”

  “Nope,” Tori said, “but we have a security system, just in case. Never had any issues, though. The wind did get kind of bad Sunday, so maybe that was it.”

  “Maybe,” Harper agreed. “Anyway, you didn’t have to come all the way out here just to tell me that.”

  She smiled. “I didn’t want you to be mad at me. And, confession, that wasn’t the only reason.” She pressed her lips together firmly, her eyes darting back and forth between Harper’s. “I wanted to make sure we were okay, after the other day.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Look, it didn’t mean anything to me, but I know you’re pretty inexperienced. The kiss wasn’t a…I wasn’t coming on to you. It was just harmless fun.”

  “Oh,” Harper waved her hand, trying to play much cooler than she felt, “of course. No, did yo
u think that bothered me? I know it was no big deal.”

  “Okay, good,” Tori said, resting her hand on Harper’s shoulder. “Good. I’d hate to think you’ve been avoiding me.”

  “Not at all. Things have just been crazy, you know?”

  “Definitely,” she said, drawing out the word. She offered her a pouty smile. “Anyway, I’ve got to run. We’ll catch up soon, okay? What do you think, drinks on Friday?”

  “Uh, sure.”

  “Perf,” she said, leaning down and kissing both her cheeks as if they were stars. “I’ll catch you soon.”

  Harper nodded, waving at her, though her back was already turned. When she climbed into the car, she dialed Bryant’s number, waiting to hear his voice over the speaker before she pulled out. “Hey,” she greeted him. “Did you go talk to Tori today?”

  “What?” he asked, sounding distant. He must’ve had her on speakerphone.

  “Tori. She came by my work. She was apologizing for leaving her bra at the house.”

  “She was?” He was back to the speaker then, his voice much louder.

  “Yeah, didn’t she tell you?”

  He cleared his throat. “Well, I mean, yeah, but I didn’t know she was coming to see you.”

  “She just wanted to say sorry. Apparently she’d wanted me to fix a loose thread on it.”

  “What?” he asked. “Why?”

  “I guess it’s her favorite bra, and she’s useless with sewing clothes. Even though she sews skin for a living, so that seems kind of odd.”

  “She doesn’t really seem like the ‘repair what’s broken’ type. I just assumed she’d get something new.”

  “Some people are sentimental about their stuff,” she said. “Anyway, she invited me to dinner Friday night. Do you want to come? I could see about you and Jason joining us.” She didn’t tell him she was only inviting him to make herself feel more comfortable. The thought of being alone again with Tori terrified her, but she felt compelled to say yes. Maybe being in the South was making her a nicer person, or maybe she just wanted to figure out what things Jason was seeing that she wasn’t.

 

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