Bill cleared his throat. “Is he alive?”
“The old man got lung cancer and died three years after I threatened him. His relatives helped keep the household going. They didn’t want anyone from outside involved in family affairs. They controlled the welfare money. We lived better than before but were still poor. My only friend was my uncle Eric. He couldn’t do much because he was disabled. We talked. He was smart, and he cared. Oh, God, I miss him.”
Vicki’s voice quavered. “He said I must, absolutely must, go to college.” Tears ran down both cheeks, and she went inside.
She came back out with a small tissue box, more composed.
Bill picked up her wine glass and handed it to her. “So you did. Go to college, I mean.”
She smiled her thanks and took a sip. “I had to break out of my life. College aid, loans, and part-time jobs got me through. Rachel wouldn’t move with me. She still lives on welfare. I’m afraid her drug use has increased. At least she hasn’t gotten pregnant. I send her small amounts of money. Don’t dare send more. What I do send is probably going for drugs.”
She sniffled and removed a tissue from her purse. “I try to go by once or twice a year to see for myself how she’s doing. Everything with her is tricky. She sold a new TV once to get money for drugs. I’m overdue for a visit.”
Red blotches covered Vicki’s face. She wiped tears away with the backs of her fingers. “Bill, I don’t know what to do. This is my sister, the only blood relative I have left. Lord, I wasn’t going to talk about this.”
“I’m so sorry. I can tell this is tearing you apart.” Bill reached over and touched her cheek. “I wish I could help. With our money, we can send her to the best rehab.”
“I’m so glad you said we. You said with our money. As long as everything is we, I can ask for nothing more.” A quiet groan escaped her. “Rachel would have to be forced. I talked to an attorney about committing her, but that’s not possible. She doesn’t meet the legal definition.”
Two sandhill cranes lumbered across the grass in front of them, looking for a handout. Bill shooed them away, which took some doing. They were either stupid or spoiled. He cleared his throat. “Tell me about conjuring.”
“There’s not much to it. Wilderness skills, reading omens, healing—all that stuff is common folk knowledge in the backwoods. Some people have it more than others. I don’t give it much thought anymore.”
“But you were talking about telekinesis. I mean, can you influence physical objects?”
Vicki pressed her lips together. “Bill, that was all when I was a kid. I don’t even know if that stuff is real or imaginary.”
Bill nodded. “Okay, I hear you. Changing the subject—I understand you don’t want to stay in this rig any longer than we must. Even though I don’t mind living in it, I feel we should ditch it in case someone is looking for us in an RV.
“From what I’ve learned,” he continued, “the little town right up the road, Lake Creed, is not a bad place to live for a while. There are a few cool hangouts, and in the next town, there are more. I’m not saying we should plan on being here forever. But this is a good area to keep a low profile until we decide what the master plan is.”
“You’re putting lipstick on a pig,” Vicki said. “You don’t know the small-town life. Not a fit for either of us. Let’s find a better place to live, not merely a place to pass the time. It’s not like we’re short of money. I want to have a master plan, not talk about one.”
“Of course. There are lakes all around here, and I’ll bet we can find a rental home you’ll like, right on the water. We might buy a boat, do a little sunset cruising. If we want to get another RV later, we’ll find something newer and better.”
Vicki finished her wine and set the glass down. “Okay, I’ll go along with hunkering down here for a year, but that’s all.
“No more RV for us. By the end of that year, we’ll have a place picked out in a real city and be ready to go there. Agreed?”
Bill stood and stretched. “C’mon, let’s take a drive and start looking.”
“I have a better idea. Why don’t you come inside with me? We’re overdue.” Bill shrugged. “C’mon. If I can’t light your fire, your wood is wet. Afterward, I’ll go to the pool and work on my tan while you scout the area.”
“While I’m scouting, I’ll look for an SUV. Okay?”
“We’re still going inside?” Vicki smiled her crooked smile.
“Of course.”
Bill found a pearl-colored SUV at a used car dealer. On the way back, he felt lightheaded, so he pulled in to McDonald’s. He wanted to sit with a cup of coffee and clear his head. As he got out of the car, his cell phone dropped, and he bent to pick it up.
He must have straightened too quickly. A shutter clicked on his vision, like a reflex camera. He felt dizzy, and a whooshing sound filled his ears. An image of his mother came into his mind, saying, “My boy. What’s become of you?”
He felt his lips silently forming the word Mom.
Standing in line, Bill didn’t remember walking in. The place was jammed with clusters of teenagers. Coffee in hand, he turned to a room with no empty tables. A man sitting by himself gestured for Bill to come over.
“Please sit.” The man wore a beige straw hat with a brown band and a collarless gray shirt made of crinkly fabric. His liquid, unreadable dark eyes glowed in a mocha-colored face with a dusty finish. A scruffy salt-and-pepper goatee decorated his chin. He was very thin.
Bill started to thank him, and the man raised a finger to his lips. Then he pointed at the bench opposite, and Bill sat.
“I’m Bill.”
“They call me Gupta,” the man said softly.
A faint odor enveloped Bill, garlic and some other sweet, aromatic spice. Gupta or not, this man had a genuine southern accent.
Gupta said, “That’s a nice SUV. Is it new?”
“Looks new, doesn’t it? It’s three years old. I got it used, but it only has twenty-four thousand miles on it.”
“Please excuse me. I need to make short call.” The man left, phone to his ear, and stepped out of sight. Curious, Bill stood and moved so he could see where Gupta went. He didn’t find him at first, but then he saw movement by his car. Gupta’s slender form rose from a crouch, and he walked toward the restaurant. He smiled in Bill’s direction.
Gupta strolled through the door, back to the table, and sat. Bill said, “What were you doing?”
“When I finished my call, I walked by your car. The front tires seemed low. After looking more closely, I believe they are. You should get them checked.” Gupta pointed toward the SUV. “Outside, after you parked, were you thinking about the past? Your mother, perhaps?”
Bill tensed, ready to rise. “Mr. Gupta, tell me what this is about.”
Gupta gestured to stay seated. “Please, my apologies. I guess you could say I am too forward. This is not modest to say, but the fact is I am exceedingly observant. I put things together in ways people find surprising. For example, I could lip-read you when you were outside, saying, ‘Mom.’ Your face and body spoke of depression and anxiety.”
Bill leaned back. “Bullshit. I’m not depressed, and I have no reason to panic.”
“Really? I’m not right all the time, but I got a strong feeling on this one.”
Bill sneered, “Is this about money? Are you about to hit me up?”
“There is no reason to worry. As far as I’m concerned, private things are private. I have no need for money. I’m okay if you aren’t keen to talk.”
Bill drank the last of his coffee and crushed the cup in his hand.
Gupta raised his palm. “Perhaps we will meet again. Please, don’t let me keep you.”
Bill’s throat tightened, his eyes welling with tears. He croaked, “Whatever.” Gazing at this calm man with the shy smile felt like looking at infini
ty. He had a strong feeling he should know this guy; there was something familiar about him. Shaking his head, Bill walked to the door, dropping his crumpled cup in the trash.
When he got back to the RV, he inspected his front tires. They did have a soft appearance when the wheels were turned. He straightened them, and they didn’t look so bad. Still, he’d get them checked. He bent and inspected the inside of the wheel well, running his fingers around the edge. Having found nothing unusual, he shrugged and drove away.
Chapter 15
Two weeks later, the pearl-colored SUV pulled into the circular drive of a gray stucco one-story house. Bill and Vicki stepped down from the vehicle and admired the well-manicured, professionally landscaped lawn. Vicki said, “The house is gorgeous. And what a beautiful lake view.”
Bill removed a key from his pocket and opened the door. Vicki entered first. They stepped into a wide foyer featuring a crystal chandelier. She sighed and spread her arms, palms out. “This is pretty impressive. I could even like it here for a year. Just a year, though. Let’s walk through the rest of it.”
They proceeded past the dining room to the kitchen on the left, then to an enormous family room with leather sofas and chairs and a large-screen TV on the wall. Sliding glass doors led to a covered patio facing the pool. The deep blue lake extended beyond, its far shore visible in the distance. Eighteen-inch ceramic tiles, laid diagonally, made the home seem bigger. Opposite the kitchen was the bedroom wing with a master suite plus two other bedrooms, each having its own bath. All the showers were walk-in. Vicki murmured, “This is mighty fine.”
“The best way to find what we wanted was through a Realtor,” Bill said. “There are so many places to choose from, and an outsider has a hard time telling bad from good. I gave her a check and told her we’d rent it, subject to your approval. She had another appointment, so she gave me the key. This place wasn’t listed.”
Bill gestured out the sliding glass doors. “The west side of the lake is best because the back of the house with the patio faces the sunrise. Also, the hot afternoon sun isn’t baking the living area in the back of the house. The glare off the water from a late-afternoon sun can be hard on the eyes too.”
“You sound like a Realtor.”
“I’m telling you what she said.” Bill slid a back door open and beckoned as he stepped out. “We’d pay a half a month’s rent for the rest of the month, plus security deposit, and sign a twelve-and-a-half-month lease.”
Vicki stood in the doorway. “Oh, Bill, this is perfect. The pool. The lake—what’s it called?”
“Lake Creed, same as the town. How about we take a slow drive through town and then go to the grocery store?”
Vicki stepped out, put her fingertips to Bill’s face, and kissed him.
As they left, Bill locked the front door. They stood by the SUV, taking it all in.
Over Vicki’s shoulder, out of the corner of his eye, Bill caught a movement in the side window of the two-story house to the left. Without moving his head, he focused as best he could. Two thick fingers held a curtain back a few inches. Whoever was peeking out stood far enough from the window to be unseen in the darkened room. The curtain quickly dropped into place.
Vicki said, “What was that person?”
Bill touched her shoulder. “Curious neighbor. Don’t look. They may still be spying.” He turned his face away from the window. “In an abundance of caution, we won’t bring the motorhome or the Honda over here. We’ll take them to Tampa and wholesale them to separate dealers.”
As they rode, Vicki laced her fingers and pushed her hands forward, palms out, stretching. “Excellent plan, bubba. Let’s go sign the lease and start moving.”
Dr. Elmer Leonardis stepped from his side window to the front of his house and edged the curtain back as the SUV drove away. What kind of people drive a big, fat SUV? Urban? Showy? Not the kind you want next to you. Thoughts tumbled through his mind, then scattered like startled squirrels, only to return chasing one another around and around. What were these people up to? They didn’t fit in this neighborhood.
Renting a fully furnished home was a tipoff. Leonardis had been irked when the Dorseys decided to lease rather than sell the house. In his experience, rentals brought the wrong kind of people, no matter what the price tag. Florida was full of conmen and fraudsters. Some hid in broad daylight, enabled by lax laws and enforcement, and some were flagrant criminals. He would need to figure out what the deal was with his new neighbors.
Leonardis decided a good, hard workout would quiet his mind and help organize his thinking. Afterward, he’d eat a light breakfast of oatmeal and fruit.
In his fifties, he moved and looked like a much younger man, at least if you didn’t see his face. His five-foot-eight frame was muscled and trim. After his shower, he sprayed a generous amount of men’s cologne on his neck and massaged it in with his fingers. He tucked his black superfine cotton T-shirt into matching pleated pants, enjoying the smooth hand of the fabric as he trailed his fingertips across his chest. This is what he wore on the days he worked from home, teaching online classes in criminal justice for two educational institutions. When he taught classes on campus, he wore a dark blue tropical wool suit with padded shoulders, a white pinpoint oxford shirt, and a Ferragamo or Hermès tie.
A retired police detective with a law degree and a PhD in criminology, Leonardis took pride in the two books he had published, at his own expense. Almost all the books he sold went to his students; a few were purchased by family members; none were sold to other law enforcement professionals. He always introduced himself as “Dr. Elmer Leonardis” and answered his cell phone, “Dr. Leonardis.” He knew he was an overachiever. So what? Many great men were, including several presidents.
“Make the best of what you got,” his father had often said. Ironic, since his father had never been able to hold a job and often gambled away the food money. Yet the old man’s advice had served him well.
He regarded his face in the hall mirror, contemplating his bald head and pulling back the loose skin on his face. He wondered if he should check out plastic surgery for the puffy half circles under his eyes. The doc could also do something about the hint of jowl and turkey neck he could see in a certain light.
Bill and Vicki left the realty office, having signed rental papers. Bill said, “Let’s move everything to the house now. Tomorrow I’ll need you to take me back to the RV park. I’m going to drive the motorhome to Tampa with the Honda in tow. I’ll call if I make a deal to sell them both, and you can drive over while I’m doing the paperwork.”
She nodded. “Just let me know.”
The next morning, Elmer Leonardis stood at his side window, watching and listening. The previous afternoon, his new neighbors had made four trips with the SUV, unloading clothing, boxes, and a few small appliances.
As they approached the vehicle, Leonardis noted it had a decal from Quality Auto Sales and bore a temporary tag. The woman’s voice carried through his open window, saying she would drop the man off at a place called Highlands Haven and go to the grocery store.
Leonardis waited a few minutes after they drove out of sight. Bottle of wine in hand, he walked across his backyard, into the covered porch facing his new neighbors’ pool. He knocked and called out before setting the wine on a table in the shade and removing a key from his pocket. The Dorseys must have forgotten he had this or didn’t care. He opened the sliding door, stepped in, and again called, “Anybody home?” After a moment, he left the door open and walked through the house. Everything in the kitchen appeared to be as the Dorseys had left it, except for a toaster oven and blender sitting on the counter. The living area bore only one sign of the new occupants, a copy of the Tampa Tribune on the kitchen table.
Back to the master bedroom. The walk-in closet door was open, so he stepped in. On the man’s side hung a dozen knit shirts, a couple floral prints, and two pairs of pants hangin
g next to two button-down shirts with Brooks Brothers labels. He fingered the knit shirts and brushed the fabric of one across his cheek. Quality fabric but a little coarse for his taste. The woman’s side was stuffed with well-tailored pantsuits, along with frilly tops in bright colors. On the floor were at least two dozen pairs of dressy shoes and two pairs of athletic shoes.
Behind a suitcase next to the shoes, he spied a backpack. He didn’t remember them bringing this in. Tempted to check it out, he caressed his cheek with his fingertips. No, he wasn’t going to disturb anything today. He nudged the backpack with a fist, and something shifted inside. Could be books or magazines. Interesting. Leonardis decided to make a detailed reconnaissance later when he’d have a better idea of how long they’d be away, not on this spur-of-the-moment visit.
He exited, wiping the door handles inside and out with a handkerchief and relocking the door. He picked up the bottle of wine and again rapped on the door frame with his knuckles, shouting, “Anybody home? Anybody home?” Head lowered, he gazed left and right, trying to determine whether he was being watched, and carried the bottle across the grass to his own back door.
Chapter 16
A week later, Bill and Vicki drove north to Bard Green. Oktoberfest was coming soon, and they wanted to check out the town before the event.
They passed a sign indicating ten more miles to go. Vicki said, “This better be good. Lake Creed is dead, and I’m watching too much TV. There’s nothing to do around here, unless you want to go to a bar with a crappy local band or walk through the art gallery for the umpteenth time. There are plenty of places to buy a gun, have your golf cart fixed, or eat fast food. I swear, Lake Creed is so proud of their wimpy summer festival.”
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