“Wow,” Jasper said when I explained the costs and how we could cut expenses by tweaking things and choosing different options that were similar in style. “If I just picked these things out on my own, it would cost me thousands more.”
“Most builders would probably love you,” I laughed. “But we’re flippers. We’re in this to make a profit and turn the house as quickly as possible. We have to make the places we renovate really appeal to as many people as possible, so we get a quick sale. The longer a property sits, the more we pay. That’s why we stick with the classics, whether we do contemporary or traditional style. Fad designs may look really sleek, but they have limited appeal for buyers. It sounds terrible, but it’s more practical to go generic, whether it’s flooring or wall color. We always choose one thing to make a property pop, and usually it’s something like a gourmet range in a deluxe kitchen, a fireplace that’s a focal point, or a fantastic deck in the backyard.”
“What are you planning for the bungalow?” Jasper wanted to know.
“Why don’t we drive over there, and I’ll walk you around the yard?”
“Sounds good.”
“Want to follow me?”
“I have a better idea,” he told me. “Why don’t you drive me back to my car after lunch?”
Chapter Five —
Be still my heart. If only he didn’t have a wife and kid.
“You mean take my Miata?”
“Why not? It’s a sunny day.” He opened the door for me as we left the showroom.
“Are you sure?” I gave him a mischievous grin. “Your hair might get roughed up.”
“Very telling, Suzanne.” He pursed his lips and pointed a finger at me, nodding slightly, his eyes narrowing. “You’ve defined yourself by your words. So, you think I’m vain.”
“I didn’t say that,” I backpedaled, thinking he was insulted by the comment. “What I meant was….”
“What you meant was you’re so laid back, you think a dress is something you put on once a year. What you meant was you’re more comfortable in blue jeans and a tee shirt than in a suit and silk blouse. And because I have to meet with clients who have expectations that I can handle their finances, you assume I’m a big, boring stiff who doesn’t know how to have a good time unless I have gel in my hair.”
My jaw dropped open as I saw a new side of Jasper, one I wasn’t expecting at all. He saw the look on my face and started laughing.
“Close your mouth, Suzanne. You might swallow a fly if you keep it open like that.”
“Huh,” I muttered, realizing I just got my clock cleaned and I didn’t even know it needed it. His comment about the blue jeans and tee shirt was a whole lot more accurate than I cared to admit.
“Face it. You’re a reverse snob, Dawkins. Anyone who dresses up is a heel. Anyone who dresses down is a hero. The scruffier, the better. You assume a guy like me doesn’t own a shirt without a collar and a little guy on a polo pony. I can’t possibly have a pair of jeans with frayed cuffs. I’m all image and no substance, right?”
“I…I….”
“Speechless? How refreshing. I thought you were going to shove that size twelve sandal in your mouth again.”
“Actually, I was going to apologize,” I replied, regaining my composure. “The sandal is a size eight, by the way. And as far as the frayed jeans are concerned, I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“Give me the keys.”
“Excuse me?”
“The keys. Hand them over. I’m going to prove to you that I can handle the wind in my hair.” Jasper leaned against the Miata. He ran a hand through his hair and turned to give me a long look at his profile.
“That’s really not necessary, Jasper. I was a jerk. I’m sorry,” I laughed nervously.
“Nope. No good. The keys. Or I don’t buy the bungalow.” His long fingers wiggled as he extended his expectant hand, waiting for me to put my key ring on his palm.
“Not to worry,” I smirked. “Your competition will.”
“Oh, good. You won’t mind Kyle copping a feel, then?”
“Fine!” He caught the keys I tossed him in mid-air, hopped behind the wheel without opening the door, and honked the horn. “Hurry up, Dawkins. You’re dawdling!”
“Just be careful,” I warned him. “I need some transmission work.”
He turned the key, listening to the hum of the engine, and then gently shifted into reverse. We turned left coming out of the parking lot, crossed Mulberry Street, went down two blocks, and hit the highway, where Jasper took the car up to sixty-five. He took exit five, rolled down the ramp, and turned right.
“It’s your timing belt,” Jasper announced. “Not the transmission.”
“How do you know that?”
He gave me a big grin, fluffed his hair again, and tapped me on the nose.
“I used to be a grease monkey. I can change your oil, radiator fluid — you name it. That’s how I paid for college and grad school. My Uncle Larry owns a chain of repair shops, and he always had a job for me.”
“Wow,” I grinned. “Maybe you do have a pair of frayed jeans after all.”
Six minutes later, we pulled up in front of the bungalow. Jasper dangled the keys in the air before dropping them into my open hand.
“Lead the way, Suzanne. What goes on here, at the front of the house?”
I took him around the property, explaining where the parking area would be located and how the planting beds would work. We found a wooden crate in the backyard and used it as a makeshift step to peer through the windows along the side of the house. I pointed out the bedrooms and shared the plans for the sun porch.
“June will love this,” Jasper decided. We sat on the back steps, looking out at the area where the brick patio would go. “It’s perfect for her. Did you know she’s an avid gardener? She grows some amazing tomatoes.”
“What kind of grandmother is she?” I asked, wading into the deep end, where there was murky water waiting for me.
“Great. She takes the kids all over the place. She’s very hands on. Matthew’s turning eight. She goes to all his soccer and hockey games. Gracie is six. She’s into gymnastics. Owen will be two in September. He’s into everything.”
“They sound like busy kids.”
“Well, my sister tries hard. It hasn’t been easy since Mark died.”
“Oh, how sad.” I knew he had an older sister, but I had never met her.
“I relocated here for the last six months of Mark’s life. I helped him set up his estate, move the money into trusts for Julie and the kids. We talked about what he wanted me to do with his insurance policy, how he wanted it invested for his family. Luckily, he had one. June came back and forth. Last time, when I took her to the airport to fly home to California, she told me she wants to find a place here. I think that’s a good idea, for her, as well as Julie and the grandkids. I want to make sure June will get something positive out of it.”
“What about your kids?” I wondered. “How did they feel about the move?”
“My kids?”
“I saw the car seat when you gave me a ride the other day,” I told him. He seemed confused momentarily, before he suddenly understood.
“Oh, I picked up Owen from the babysitter’s the other day. Julie had a meeting.”
I felt like a complete idiot. I’d have kicked myself if I could have reached my own behind.
“Does that mean you’re not married?”
“No,” he replied, looking away. “Not married.”
“But in a serious relationship?”
“We’re taking a break, trying to figure out what we’re going to do next. We seem to be headed in two different directions. Helping Julie gave me a reason to take a step back and reevaluate the situation.”
“That’s tough,” I told him.
“No ring on your finger,” he noted. I looked down at my hand and smiled. “Ever come close?”
“Closer than was wise. It turned out that I dodged a bullet. He wasn’
t the right guy for me.”
“Too bad. You’d probably make a good mom.”
“Me?”
“Sure. You have a good sense of humor, a great right hook, and you don’t take a lot of crap from people.”
“That’s what makes a good mother?”
“Absolutely.” He was watching me. “Don’t you want kids?”
“Depends. No point in having kids if I’m raising them by myself. I’m not a woman who wants to do it all herself.”
“Interesting.”
“What are you people doing here?” A gruff voice interrupted our conversation. Jasper and I both looked up at the disgruntled man standing in front of us, with a broom in his hand. “You’re trespassing!”
“No, we’re not,” I assured him. “We’ve agreed to buy the place.”
“You can’t. It’s Rainbow’s house.” He looked to be about fifty, with long, stringy grey hair, a scruffy moustache, and wearing dungaree overalls without a shirt. I felt like I was looking at Farmer Brown, the marijuana grower, and he seemed to be one toke over the line.
“How’s that?”
“Rainbow will be coming back,” he insisted. “You should leave.”
“You mean Susan Lefkowitz?” At least that was the name on the deed. Somehow I had pictured a little old lady as owner of the bungalow, since her family had formed a trust for the house. But if Susan hung out with this guy, maybe she was in need of family oversight.
“Her name is Rainbow now.”
“She’s not coming back. Her family is selling the house,” I said as kindly as I could.
“You can’t move in,” the man took a menacing step forward and I heard Jasper take a breath, ready to vault to his feet at the first sign of danger. “She’ll be back. This is her home.”
“Well,” I said as comfortingly as possible, “her family hasn’t been able to find her anywhere. They’re quite concerned, so if you know anything, you should get in touch with them. They’d probably appreciate talking to you. Do you live around here?”
“Next door.” He shrugged in the direction of the single story ranch tucked behind tall shrubs. “I look after the place for her.”
“That’s nice. You’re obviously a good neighbor. We’re going to start working here next week.”
“Can’t” he told us again. “This is Rainbow’s house.”
“Can,” I responded. “We bought it from her family. If you have a problem with that, you should talk to them.”
The glare he gave us seemed rather hostile. I made a point of keeping eye contact because I didn’t want him to think he was succeeding in scaring us off. Was it all just bluster? His voice was strong in conversation, but I got the sense his mind was addled. Maybe it was decades of drug use. Maybe he was always this way. He seemed fixated on the idea of Susan Lefkowitz as Rainbow. Could it be a New Age thing? I made a note to myself to let Ned know we might have a problem. Just as quickly as he came with little warning, he went the same way, turning unexpectedly without another word and striding off.
“That was awkward,” Jasper decided, as soon as Farmer Brown disappeared. “He seems pretty adamant that she’ll be back.”
“I wish I knew what his name was,” I said, more to myself than to Jasper. If Farmer Brown was going to be a troublemaker, we would have to contain the crisis. The last thing we wanted was the flip to flop, so to speak. The new owner shouldn’t have to deal with harassment from an over-zealous, over-protective neighbor with a tenuous grip on reality.
“Let me go talk to the guy.” Jasper was on his feet before I could protest. “We’ll have a little man-to-man.”
Who was I to discourage that, especially if it yielded results? The truth was I was concerned about Susan Lefkowitz. What if she was coming back? Did Farmer Brown know where she went? Why did she leave without telling her family and friends where she was going?
“Ask him what he knows about her disappearance,” I called after him. The more we knew about the situation, the better.
While he was gone, I decided to examine the foundation and overgrown lawn for clues about the water bill. The basement was very dry, which was a great thing, and there were no telltale stains inside, so the leak had to be outside of the house.
I was bent over a spot in the knee-high grass when I felt a hand on my bottom. For a second, shock waves froze me in place. What in God’s name was Jasper thinking? With an indignant sigh, I stood up, counting as I righted myself. When I got to ten, I turned.
“As much as I like you,” I started to say, but I stopped as I saw that smug, obnoxious gargoyle named Kyle.
“Aw, too bad. No witnesses. ‘He said, she said’.” He gave me a toxic grin. “Saw your car out front, Suzykins. Thought I’d stop by and let you give me the tour.”
“Go to hell, Kyle.”
“Not without you, Suzykins. It wouldn’t be much fun on my own.”
“It won’t be much fun with me,” I hollered, hoping Jasper would hear.
“I don’t know. Devil’s playground. Lots of possibilities. Where shall we start?”
“You really are a creep, aren’t you? First, you rape Jane, and then you blackmail her. How many other victims did you have? Is that how you got your wife to marry you?”
“You’re wrong about me and Jane,” Kyle snarled. I could see he was angry because his beady little eyes got tinier and tinier, until they almost disappeared. “You keep thinking she’s such an innocent. She wanted me. She begged me to marry her. That whole rape story was drummed up when I wouldn’t!”
Chapter Six –
“Right. Because you’re such a freaking catch, Kyle!”
“You think you know your best friend? Why do you think she moved? Because she was so damaged? Because she was so miserable over what I did to her? Or because her little game plan got chumped?”
“What kind of creep takes photos of an unconscious, drugged up woman?” I snapped back. “What does it take to have sex with a partner who can’t participate?”
“Is that what that bitch told you? That I drugged her? That I had sex with her while she was asleep?” Kyle was roaring at me now. I could see the vein at his left temple throbbing as his face went crimson. “She was the one who came onto me. She was the one who chased me.”
“Yeah, right. You’re Prince Charming. No woman can resist you!”
“I can prove it to you!” he screamed at me. “I have the evidence!”
I took a step back. Kyle seemed to be in the process of dangerously spiralling out of control, and I didn’t want to be within striking distance when he unraveled.
“Did you forget, Kyle,” I said defiantly, “about the photographs you took of that orgy? Not to mention the photos of the other men who took their turns with her? Kind of hard for a woman to participate in sex when she’s not aware of what’s going on.”
Kyle got a strange look on his face. He studied me for a long, silent moment, his breathing labored as his chest heaved. And then he sat down on the back step, slapping his knees. The tension seemed to leave his body and he shook his head in wonderment.
“She really did it to me. Janie really did it. Good God, she did it.” I wasn’t sure how to take the bitter chuckle that sputtered out of Kyle’s mouth. “That vile, deceitful bitch really did it to me. And it’s only taken me ten years to find out how badly I got screwed.”
“What goes around comes around,” I muttered. I wasn’t sure how to take the change in Kyle. He didn’t seem to be paying attention to me any longer. It was like he was lost in a dark, fog from long ago, wandering about in search of a memory he couldn’t grasp. I took advantage of the moment to make my escape.
Jasper was just leaving Farmer Brown’s yard when I came around the corner. He took one look at me and knew instantly that something was wrong.
“What’s the matter?”
“That bastard Kyle is here.”
“For heaven’s sake, is the man a complete idiot? I’ll go talk to him,” Jasper said. I shook my head. “I
can make him understand you’re not available.”
“No, let’s just go. I want to get as far away from that creep as I can. And I want to take a shower and get his stinking fingerprints off my fanny!”
“He touched you again? Son of a bitch!” Jasper didn’t even get into the silver streak.
Instead, he disappeared around the back of the house. I don’t know what I was expecting. Yelling. Maybe the sound of fisticuffs. There was nothing. For a horrible second, I wondered if Kyle had killed him. But a moment later, Jasper reappeared and strode determinedly to the passenger side of the Miata, opened the door, and climbed in beside me.
“Kyle and I have come to an understanding. He will not be bothering you again.” Jasper was still steaming. I thought I saw little puffs of moisture coming out of his lips.
“Oh?” I was alarmed at how tense he seemed, like he was all wound up and unable to release the over-tightened spring that drove his mechanism.
“Just drive, Suzanne,” was all he said.
I pulled away from the curb, still not sure what had transpired in the backyard. Jasper wasn’t talking. I took the side streets that ran parallel to Windsong Boulevard, heading towards the center of Glendale. Finally, I had little choice. I had to interrupt his silent reverie.
“Where are we going?” I asked. Jasper seemed to force himself to focus.
“Want to hit the Low Down?” His voice was throaty, almost as if he had been caught in an emotional reaction to something, maybe a past memory. As far as I knew, he and Kyle had never run in the same circles. But something was gnawing at Jasper. That much I could see in his eyes. He was a haunted man.
No Hiding Behind the Potted Palms! A Dance with Danger Mystery #7 Page 35