The House Across The Street

by Melanie Jones Brownrigg

  I am so hurt right now. And I don’t think I like Brenna even one little bit.

  From all the way down the hall, I hear Rachel’s intake of breath, as if she’s trying to quash her annoyance. Taking another quick glance, I see a scowl creasing Rachel’s forehead and she has a hand on one hip, like she’s about to lay into Brenna.

  “You know, Brenna, you’re not such a good judge of men. First off, Richard isn’t like how he used to be. He’s changed and we’re no longer compatible. Secondly, how long has your longest relationship ever lasted? Given that, what gives you the right to dissuade me from being with whoever I want to be with … or whoever I don’t want to be with? You need to mind your own business when it comes to which man that I choose to spend my time with.”

  You go girl! My heart swells out of my chest, my ears hearing she wants to spend time with me. I knew I’d win her over. It was just a matter of wearing her down.

  “Richard thinks you’ve lost your mind. I’m beginning to believe you have. If you were thinking rationally, you’d know a wealthy, successful heart surgeon is a much better catch. You have him wrapped around your little finger and you’re willing to just walk away. Toss your whole marriage into the garbage and all because of what … because Richard cheated on you once with a surgical nurse who threw herself at him. He’s so remorseful about having betrayed you. Why can’t you forgive him?”

  “Brenna, for months, I’ve been trying to get you to stop promoting Richard. I’m so sick and tired of you being his cheerleader. I really can’t take it anymore. Maybe we should take a break from each other.”

  I watch as Brenna slumps against Rachel’s desk, a stunned look on her face. “You can’t be serious right now? We’ve been friends since high school.”

  “Then lay off of me getting back with Richard, or we’re done,” Rachel says as an ultimatum.

  “I will … if you’ll tell me it’s not just because Richard cheated on you. Is there anything else? Please Rachel, I really need to understand.”

  From my hiding spot, I see Rachel biting her bottom lip.

  “It’s more than the affair. But there are two gag orders in place … that’s why I’ve never said anything to you, or Catie. I could go to jail for contempt of court if I open my mouth. Brenna, as an attorney, surely you can understand the bind I’m in. You’re just going to have to trust me. Richard isn’t who I want to be with anymore.”

  “Two gag orders. One in your divorce case, right?” I see the wheels spinning in Brenna’s head as she reasons the possibilities out.

  “Yes,” Rachel confirms.

  “It’s public record, Rachel. Shall I look for the second gag order in a criminal court, or a civil court?”

  The attorney in Brenna has just worked it through that she can go to the courthouse to look up any lawsuits to which Richard Anderson is a party. It will let her know what’s going on with Richard. A cog moves in my own head, realizing I am going to do the same thing.

  “Civil for now,” Rachel replies. “If the civil doesn’t go well, there will be a criminal case filed as well.”

  “My God,” Brenna gasps. “Rachel, I’m sorry I doubted you. Please forgive me. I am truly apologizing from the bottom of my heart. Please tell me we’re okay.”

  “We’re okay,” Rachel says softly. “But you can’t mention anything to Richard about the gag orders. Please, Brenna, I will be in a lot of trouble if he finds out.” Rachel gulps. “Just please believe me … it’s over between me and Richard.”

  “Fine, I won’t say anything to anyone,” Brenna promises.

  About this time, the doorbell rings again. This time, I know it will be Rob. It’s his day off and he is going to help me watch the Foster house. Today, if Foster and Hutchins split up, we will each follow one of the two. I hurry across Rachel’s bedroom and into the back room and pull on my pants and a shirt while I hear Rachel answering the door.

  “Rob,” she says with a surprised inflection because she doesn’t know of the plan since she was asleep when we formulated it.

  I hurry down the hall. Out of politeness, I nod at Brenna. “Hello, it’s nice to see you again,” I lie, because I am not the Geico man, or a Neanderthal. Maybe I will trim my mustache though. I will think about shaving my Brillo pad. I am even nice enough to introduce my friend to Miss Judgmental. “This is my friend, Rob Brown. Rob, this is Rachel’s friend, Brenna.” They shake hands and Brenna’s eyes go all googly. Dear God, she has the hots for Rob.

  “Oh, it’s such a pleasure to meet you,” she gushes, her eyes lingering on Rob’s left hand, naked of a wedding ring. Rob notices and puts on his own enamored look, suggesting he likes what he sees too.

  Part of me wants to shoo them apart since Brenna had nothing good to say about me. On the other hand, it might be interesting if Rachel and I became a couple and our two good friends paired up as well. I could hang around with my buddy, while Rachel gossiped with her girlfriend. I decide this might help me get Rachel, so I encourage the two of them. “Rob’s divorced. Only married two short years when he was much younger. No children.” I swivel my gaze to Brenna. “Brenna’s an attorney and she’s not married either,” I briefly provide, because I don’t know much else about her.

  “Rob, how did you and Jackson meet?” Brenna starts in and they seem to want to know all about each other.

  Since they look as if their conversation is going to be involved, I momentarily grab Rob’s attention. “I’m going to take a quick shower.” Then I gaze at Rachel and explain why Rob is here, simply by saying, “Rob’s going to help me with my project.” It’s enough for her to understand, especially since both Foster and Hutchins left independently of each other last night.

  “That’s good,” she agrees right away. “While you’re in the shower, I’ll cook us all some breakfast.” She turns to the others and invites them. “Would you guys join us in an omelet and some bacon?”

  I think Brenna would probably have left since she doesn’t like watching me eat, but with Rob here, she quickly agrees. “I’d love to. Rachel let me help you.”

  The two women head for the kitchen and I twist my attention to Rob. “I’ll be out in a minute.” Then I hurry off to cleanse my caveman hair. Long ago I moved my clothes in from my car to the back room. After grabbing a change, I head to the bathroom.

  Once I’ve taken my five-minute scrub, I carefully climb out of Rachel’s slipper-styled tub and dry off. Using my brush, I comb out my long locks and leave them to dry naturally. But after Brenna has voiced her opinion of me, I can’t help peering in the mirror and taking a closer look at myself. Dang, my face is gnarly. Honestly, I haven’t spent any time grooming myself in a long, long time. Admittedly, I do look atrocious. Picturing Veronica, I remember how differently I had recently viewed her. For the first time, she looked as if she’d let herself go. Her stringy hair was in dire need of a coloring back to the attractive coppery red. She hadn’t plucked her bushy eyebrows and overall, she looked rough. I recall thinking Rachel had become my new standard. But how can I expect her to see me any differently than how I saw Veronica? I too have stringy hair and my face could use a good manicure. Rooting around in Rachel’s medicine cabinet, I note she is on the pill, which is good to know. Prowling through a makeup case, I find a pair of small scissors. Using them, I trim my mustache well above my upper lip and shorten the strands. It takes me forever since I haven’t put forth the effort in, well, never. Once I am satisfied with the result, I grab handfuls of my beard and whack at it. For now, it is just an effort. Before a proper job can be performed, I will need some hedge trimmers. At this point, I have been in here too long and can hear Rachel taking plates out of the cupboard and know my breakfast awaits me. One more glance in the mirror and I warn myself to get this facial hair under control and maybe I will even cut my locks. I will clean myself up. But for right now, as least food will pass into my mouth without any hairy obstacles upsetting Brenna.

  Once I have dressed, I make my way down the hall and into th
e kitchen. Rob and Brenna have already taken their plates to the dining table and Rachel is preparing ours. She is so sweet to do this. At first, she doesn’t realize that I am watching her, but then I think I moan. She spins around to look my direction. She does a double take and her mouth gaps open, noticing right away I have done some trimming.

  “Jackson,” she mutters softly, and it makes me think she likes the new and improved look.

  “Raaachuuu…” I stop myself, remembering Brenna’s critique of how I say Rachel’s name. “Raaach … Raaa … Rach,” I say, stopping at an abbreviated version.

  Her mouth closes and her face drops. She crosses the room and stands right in front of me and whispers, “You heard … didn’t you?”

  I nod, embarrassed not only because I was eavesdropping, but also because of what Brenna said about me. “Yeah,” I manage.

  “Don’t pay any attention to Brenna,” she whispers. “She finds fault with every man. It’s why she’s never found anyone she stays in a relationship with. You say my name perfectly fine. Besides, Texans have a drawl. It’s who we are. Brenna moved from Michigan in high school. She never picked up our twang.” She pauses for a moment and eyeballs my face. “But your trimmed facial hair is a definite improvement.”

  “Thank you.” My words are sincere, from the deepest part of my gut. A compliment from Rachel means everything to me and, truly, she is the one I want to impress … not Brenna.

  Rachel backs away and hands me my plate. I follow her to the table where we have a wonderful breakfast together. Brenna is doing her best to let Rob know she is interested. Rob is doing his best to let Brenna know he is interested. Rachel and I are sitting side by side, enjoying our meal and interjecting stories about our friends, serving only to humiliate them. But it is all in good fun and we are having an enjoyable time.

  Brenna leaves shortly after she has procured a date with Rob. He even walks her to her car. While they are outside, I go over the plans with Rachel. Rachel tells me she is taking Mrs. Jenkins and Mrs. Tuttle to church.

  A few minutes later, Rob comes back inside, and we bring out the equipment and peer across the street. A short time later, Rachel passes through on her way to church. “I’ll see you guys later.”

  “Okay, goodbye,” Rob says.

  “Bye, Rachel. Thank you again for breakfast.”

  I watch as she drives her SUV across the street and then goes in to help Mrs. Jenkins to her car. Mrs. Tuttle meets them as they come out and she takes hold of Mrs. Jenkins on the other side. A few moments later they are gone. When I can no longer see her car, I feel emptiness in my heart.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Rachel

  When I left the house, I took in the warm sunshine. It was going to be a beautiful day with temps in the upper sixties. It was such a nice break from the freezing cold weather of last week. Backing my car across the street to the front of Mrs. Jenkin’s house to allow her the shortest walk possible, I then went inside to get her.

  “I’m ready,” she called out from the other side of the door after I knocked. “Just let me get my purse.”

  Mrs. Jenkins got around moderately well, but I liked giving her a helping hand whenever I could. Waiting for her to lock her door, I then wrapped an arm through hers as we descended the sidewalk.

  “Good morning,” Mrs. Tuttle called out as she approached and gave Mrs. Jenkins a hand on the other side.

  We both greeted her in return and then piled into my car. When I arrived at the church, I pulled to the front and helped Mrs. Jenkins out of the car, leaving Mrs. Tuttle to assist her a few steps to the inside. After parking, I joined them, sitting about midway on one of the pews.

  After being seated for about ten minutes, Mrs. Tuttle shook my shoulder. “Look who just walked in.” She jerked her head across the nave at a couple taking a seat a few benches in front of us.

  My eyes followed her gesture. “Oh my,” I muttered, seeing Logan Foster assisting Imogene Foster, his grandmother, to a seat. “Because of tax season, I haven’t been to see her in a couple of weeks. It looks like she’s improving.”

  “It certainly does,” Mrs. Jenkins agreed, craning her neck to see for herself.

  “Do you think the Heaven’s will part and God will pat Logan on the back for his good deed of the day?” Mrs. Tuttle pondered. “Or is a lightning bolt more likely to strike?” She gazed up expectantly at the ceiling.

  “It’s about time he stepped up to the plate, considering he’s used Imogene for so many years,” Mrs. Jenkins tutted.

  All my thoughts were internalized, wondering if Logan had his grandmother’s best interest at heart, or if he was waiting to drop her down a set of stairs. I turned around and looked behind me, wondering if Jackson or Rob had followed them inside.

  A few moments later, Jackson took a seat beside me. “Good morning, Mrs. Jenkins, Mrs. Tuttle,” he addressed crowding in beside me and whispering, “Can you believe this?”

  “No,” I muttered. “But it’s nice of you to join us.”

  He chuckled, whispering, “I’m in jeans because this is the last place that I would’ve expected to follow Foster.”

  “You’re fine,” I assured him.

  “Jackson, have you heard back from your job interview?” Mrs. Tuttle inquired. Mrs. Jenkins shot me a knowing look since I’d told her Jackson was staying with me on a temporary assignment. And while I had been vague, I almost suspected she’d figured out he was working undercover.

  “Not yet, Mrs. Tuttle, but I’m keeping my fingers crossed.”

  “Well say a prayer too. You’re in God’s house … he’s more likely to hear you.”

  As the sermon began, Jackson stretched his arm across the back of the pew such that it was around my shoulders. Not wanting to publicly admonish him, I wondered if I liked it. I thought I did, but couldn’t figure out why.

  After a closing prayer, Jackson helped Mrs. Jenkins down the aisle while I went to fetch the car. Since we were seated farther back, our exit was before Logan and Mrs. Foster’s. I had just pulled to the front when they came out, but because I was blocking the exit there wasn’t time to visit with them. Jackson quickly assisted Mrs. Jenkins with her entry and then walked me around to my side.

  “I’ve got to watch them,” he emphasized. “I’ll see you later.”

  “Take care,” I said as he headed for his car. Unpredictably, when I could no longer see him, I felt emptiness in my heart. What was wrong with me?

  “How nice of Jackson to join us,” Mrs. Jenkins said as I inched the car through the crowd of people either walking across the parking lot to their vehicles or already pulling out to leave.

  “It was,” I agreed, knowing his attendance only had to do with following Logan Foster.

  “I hope he gets that job,” Mrs. Tuttle commented.

  “Me too,” Mrs. Jenkins added, giving me a wink.

  On the way back, we stopped off at the grocery store. Both ladies needed supplies and I had used up the bacon and eggs and needed to get some food for the upcoming week. In the back of my head, I wondered if my meal plans needed to include Rob … and maybe even Brenna. To be on the safe side, I threw in several dinner options. It took forever but finally I was carefully stacking our groceries into separated piles in my cargo area.

  “Let’s go through the taco place,” Mrs. Jenkins suggested on our way home.

  “I could go for a taco,” Mrs. Tuttle agreed.

  While we waited in a long line of cars at the drive-thru, I texted Jackson to see if he and Rob wanted tacos, which they did, giving me a quick explanation that Jackson would come and get them.

  By the time I helped Mrs. Jenkins inside and squared her groceries away, Mrs. Tuttle had hers already situated.

  “I have to go,” I told Mrs. Jenkins, still needing to unload my own groceries.

  “Thank you for everything, Rachel,” she said with a grateful smile on her face.

  I had barely hauled the groceries in and put them away when Jackson came by to
retrieve his and Rob’s tacos.

  “What’s going on?” I asked in a curious voice.

  “Shortly after I followed Foster, Hutchins left the house. Rob tailed him to a residence three blocks over, to where he’s repairing a fence. I followed Foster to the nursing home, where he picked up his grandmother and took her to church. After church, he took her back to the nursing home and then he met up with Hutchins to help with the fence. We’re watching from a few houses down.”

  “Who’s house?” I inquired.

  “Mr. Wilbur Cox. He lives over on Virginia Street.”

  “Yes, of course. He’s one of my clients. I talked to him last week when I delivered his tax return. I wish he’d mentioned needing his fence repaired. I would’ve steered him away from Logan and David.” I paused, my thoughts turning dark. “You don’t think they’re planning on killing Mr. Cox, do you?”

  “That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” he said, his voice laced with concern. “Hopefully if we can keep up with both Foster and Hutchins, there won’t be any more murders.”

  “What about Rob’s regular undercover job?”

  “We’re trying to get him reassigned to this task. This is the second day in a row the two targets have split up. And with this warmer weather, they’re more likely to be out and about. I can’t watch both men at the same time.”

  “He’s not planning on staying here too … is he?” I asked. Good Lord, I didn’t want both men living in my home. For one thing, this was only a one-bedroom, one-bath house. I had Jackson sleeping on the couch and didn’t want Rob on the floor somewhere.

  “No, we’re going to pull shifts. I’ll always be here and Rob lives close by. If Foster or Hutchins leave, he’ll come and watch the house if it comes to it. At any rate, we’ll work it out somehow.” He grinned. “Don’t worry. I know you’re a one-man woman … and I’m it.”