The House Across The Street

by Melanie Jones Brownrigg

  “But David lied about the first noise. It has to mean something,” she firmly pressed.

  “I think so too,” I agreed again. “But what does it mean?” I posed.

  “I still say it was Eugene Smith. He was a big man and it sounded heavy. I think he was in that garage and then they took him somewhere and dumped him.”

  “I think you’re right. But how do we prove it?”

  “Climb up in my attic and cross over to his. Go down and poke around.”

  My breath halted and so did my heart. “No, please tell me Mr. Dawson doesn’t have access to your and Mrs. Jenkins’ residences.”

  “He does,” she said flatly, causing my legs to wobble to the point I barely made it to her couch before slumping down on the well-worn, brown fabric.

  “No,” I muttered. “Why would the builder have left the attic open on all three units? Surely there’s a barrier.”

  “There’s not,” she assured me. “I had an air conditioning repair last summer and the repair man told me it was open. He suggested I should get it closed off. I never worried about it while the Franklins were living there. But now that Jarrod Dawson has moved in, I’m panicked as all get out about it.”

  “I’ll have Jackson come over and at least nail some boards on this side so he can’t come in your home.” I took a nervous breath. “I’ll get him to do the same for Mrs. Jenkins.”

  “Well not before you go in there, Rachel. You need to get in there and see what you can find.”

  “I can’t do that Mrs. Tuttle. What if he has a camera system and I’m caught on it? I can’t take that kind of risk.” I remembered asking him if he had a camera system when I was canvassing the neighborhood after Eugene Smith’s disappearance. He said he didn’t. But he could’ve been lying.

  “I’ll let you know when he leaves the house and you can come over and snoop around,” she said, completely ignoring me. “You can tell your cop friends to give you a pass.”

  “My cop friends?” I gave her an innocent look.

  “Oh, come on, Jackson’s not your cousin. All day yesterday you were wondering if he was okay and how his day was going. You’re quite obviously smitten with him. He mentioned applying for police work. My guess is he was trying to keep things as truthful as possible, because he’s already in police work. And it only makes sense for the other guy to be staying there to help watch the Foster house.” She glared at me. “For God’s sake, Rachel, I make it my business to know everything going on in this neighborhood. You’re no different.” She took in a deep breath. “And don’t think for a minute that you fooled me last night with that scarf around your neck. A couple of times you tugged at it and I saw the marks. I also saw Richard’s car over there last Sunday after we went to church. Do you think I can’t add two and two?”

  I just blinked at her. “Mrs. Jenkins knows what Richard did, but please don’t say anything to the other neighbors about him.”

  “Okay, I won’t. But if a man puts his hands on a woman, the woman better be getting rid of the man. I know you’ve filed for a divorce, but isn’t there something you can do to get Richard out of your life?”

  I shrugged. “I wish, but he won’t follow through with the divorce.”

  “Then you’d better be careful … because sooner or later it’ll be too late, and he’s going to kill you.”

  She wasn’t comforting at all. Closing my eyes, I tried gathering my strength. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “Well carry a gun at all times and try to keep that cop with you. You don’t need to be alone for a second. Give me that cop’s number and if he’s away and I see Richard over there, I’ll give him a call.”

  “Okay.” Reluctantly, I gave her Jackson and Rob’s numbers. While I hated giving the nosiest person in the neighborhood someone’s personal information, at the same time, I didn’t want to end up dead.

  “Thank you,” I told her as I left.

  “I’ll let you know when you can go snoop,” she reminded me, though I didn’t think I’d have the nerve to do it.

  ****

  “Where to start,” I said upon returning home and joining the men at the dining table. “First off, even Mrs. Tuttle has figured out you two are undercover cops. It makes it more likely that Mr. Dawson was testing you the other night to see if you followed Logan and David. When you did, he alerted David to abort anything at Mr. Cox’s house.”

  “Well, shit,” Jackson moaned.

  “Dammit,” Rob groaned. “I guess it explains why Foster and Hutchins haven’t ventured out since then.”

  “Also, she’s figured out Richard choked me. I gave her both of your phone numbers in case Richard shows up and neither of you are here.”

  “Well I like that idea,” Jackson said. “She’s better than the best security system money can buy. If Richard shows up, she’ll know it.”

  I nodded in agreement. “I went over to their houses to check on something that finally dawned on me. And just as I suspected, the attic access isn’t in the garage as represented by David Hutchins over the heater repair. It’s in the hallway. And, unbelievably the attic is open to each unit. Mrs. Tuttle wants me to go in and search Mr. Dawson’s place by gaining access through her side. She says if there’s any trouble that those two cops over here need to give me a pass.”

  At first Jackson chuckled, but he immediately straightened up and glared at me. “You’d better not even be considering going in there.”

  Rob pressed his lips together. “Not so fast. I think I’d like for her to get in there and look around.”

  “No way in hell,” Jackson argued, his thick brows bunched firmly together. “It’s far too dangerous.”

  “Think about it, Jackson. Mrs. Tuttle can let us know when he’s gone. I can keep an eye on the alley for his return and you can watch the front. Rachel can go in and search the place. Even if he comes back, I can distract him long enough for her to get out. I think it’s a brilliant plan.”

  “What if there are cameras?” I pointed out.

  “I have a detector. You can use it in each room and if there are any hidden cameras set up, I know how to delete the footage and loop it with a prior event to make it appear nothing happened.”

  “No,” Jackson said adamantly. “We’re not using Rachel. I’ll go in myself.”

  “No,” Rob countered. “If you found anything and we didn’t have a search warrant, we couldn’t use it in a court of law. But if a civilian notified us of something they discovered, then we could obtain a warrant to enter the premises for a proper, by-the-book search.” Rob glanced between the two of us. “It has to be Rachel.”

  “The Court might not like the idea of us sending in a civilian to gather evidence. What if she finds something and it ends up being thrown out at the time of trial? Rachel shouldn’t be trespassing, and certainly not when considering the possibility of getting herself killed. I don’t like the idea of her going in,” Jackson muttered, biting at his bottom lip. “Rachel, if you don’t want to do something so risky, then you don’t have to.”

  “I’ll do it,” I said in a choked voice. “We’ll wait for Mrs. Tuttle’s go ahead and take it from there.” Just thinking about it had my hands turning clammy and my heart picking up speed. I needed a diversion. “I need to get to work in the meantime.”

  Plopping down in my chair, I swiveled between a stack of documents and my computer. While inputting tax information, I tried hard to focus on anything other than unlawfully entering someone’s private residence. If caught, Mr. Dawson would gladly press charges against me … if he didn’t kill me first.

  “Rachel,” Jackson called to me, clearing his throat as if working up his nerve. “Um, I haven’t filed my tax return yet. I can take it to my regular guy, but I’d prefer you did it … if you have the time. I only have my W-2. It’s a simple return.”

  So, he was one of those procrastinators I hated. I had a big sign on my wall depicting, “Delay on your part does not constitute an emergency on my part.”

>   “Sure, if it’s only the one W-2,” I agreed. A fake smile covered my face, while I cussed him under my breath.

  “I’ll get it. It’s in my glovebox.” He jumped from his chair and flew out to retrieve it. From my window, I watched him throwing all kinds of crap around in his car, like it wasn’t in his glovebox and he couldn’t find it. I had time to finish a return by the time he came back inside.

  “Found it,” he said like he’d struck gold. He crossed to my desk and waved it in front of me, giving the impression I was supposed to do it right now.

  “Thank you,” I said, placing it in my stack of others. “I’ll get to it when I can.”

  “Oh, okay. Well thank you.” He sulked back to his seat and stared out the window.

  “Rachel, if you don’t mind. I would like to take you up on a nap on your couch,” Rob said. “And do you think you could do my tax return too? It’s only a W-2 also.”

  “Sure thing,” I agreed, the fake smile returning to my face. “And help yourself to the couch.”

  Since Jackson had appeared on my doorstep, my life had just been weird. But then I did something truly weird. Once I did both of their returns, I plugged Jackson’s home address into my phone, alongside his number I already had. Why would I do that?

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Rachel

  Taking a break, I went into the file/copy room and began clearing out the closet for Jackson’s clothing. It was completely full of boxes containing expensive purses, pricey jewelry, and other flashy gifts from Richard. While a successful image had always been important to Richard, I rarely wore any of the jewelry, preferring to wear the items handed down to me from my late grandmother. And, generally, I carried the same purse most of the time. Concerned about needing to sell the items to get by on, I had brought them with me when I’d left Richard. For now, I was simply going to stack the boxes at the end of the file cabinets.

  Jackson must’ve heard me hauling stuff around because he appeared in the doorway. Expecting him to offer a helping hand, it surprised me when instead he said, “Rach, don’t go to any trouble on my account. If Mrs. Tuttle has figured out Rob and I are undercover, more than likely Foster and Hutchins have too. Once our captain finds out about it, he’ll pull the plug and I’ll be leaving.”

  “Right,” I said with plenty of attitude. Jackson was going to leave … just like that. “Surely not until I’ve had a chance to go into Mr. Dawson’s house,” I brought up.

  “I don’t like the idea of you going in there. We’re probably not going to do that.”

  “Fine, then I’ll just put this stuff back.” For whatever reason I was irritated as hell and started shoving the boxes back in the closet with a high degree of forcefulness. “I guess it figures. This was only a job to you,” I added hatefully. One week ago, Jackson had, out of the blue, showed up on my doorstep. Why did it matter to me if he would soon be doing a disappearing act? It wasn’t like our time together had meant anything.

  “Well, it won’t be today. I’ll let you know,” he said, watching me cram the boxes back in with a disorganized manner and slam the door.

  “You do that,” I barked, pushing past him. “I have to go anyway, or I’ll be late for my lunch with Brenna and Catie.” Storming down the hall to my desk, I swung my coat on and grabbed up my purse. Throwing on the brakes and realizing I was acting immaturely, I paused for a moment. “I’ll bring you both back something to eat. What would you like?”

  After taking their orders, I left, significantly early. My sudden departure had surprised even me. There wasn’t anything going on between me and Jackson, yet I had thrown a temper tantrum like my boyfriend was breaking up with me. The look on Jackson’s face had been of pure shock. He must’ve wondered what got into me. Embarrassed by my loss of emotional control, I pretty much had run out the door.

  On the positive side, I would beat Brenna. In my mind, I played out making a big deal of her being late, no matter how early she arrived. Sure enough, checking the time, I simply waited in my car so as not to sit alone in the restaurant. When I noticed Brenna’s car turning from the traffic light at the end of the street, I made a mad dash for Juan’s and was sitting calmly at a table when she walked in. Since I already knew what I wanted, I left my menu to the side, insinuating I’d had plenty of time to peruse it before she showed up.

  “Oh, well, there you finally are,” I said in a callous tone.

  “You’re here already?” she squeaked, checking her watch to make sure she wasn’t late.

  “I’ve been waiting ages,” I rubbed in. “I thought you might’ve changed your mind about having lunch today.”

  She frowned and bit at her lip. “You’re messing with me … right?”

  I cracked up. “Of course, I am, you big goof.”

  She let out a relieved breath and pushed down in the chair opposite me. “Tell me all about Rob,” she immediately started in.

  “Hey, don’t be gossiping without me,” Catie announced, hurriedly heading our direction from a couple of tables away. “And I’m not late,” she barked, tossing a hard glare at Brenna. “But what did I miss?” she asked as she shrugged off her coat and draped it over the back of her chair.

  “I have a date,” Brenna bragged, “with Rob,” she finished.

  “Rob? What happened to Damien?” Catie gazed between us with a pouty look. “I missed a bunch of stuff. You guys have to catch me up.”

  For the first time in months, I was having fun with my girlfriends. We were laughing and carrying on like we used to. It was such a refreshing change from every lunch being a ploy to get me back with Richard.

  Then, like I conjured him up, Brenna started in by saying, “Rachel, I looked at your divorce file and really didn’t learn much of anything from it. There’s nothing there but a petition and a general answer. And there’s not anything alleging any kind of physical abuse, which I was afraid of finding.”

  “Did you find the other case?” I asked.

  “Yes, I did. I’m sorry about Richard having a malpractice suit filed against him.”

  “What!” Catie screeched. “What are you talking about?”

  “Brenna, as you’re aware from looking at the files, I’m under a gag order. Can you explain what you found to Catie?”

  “It was really nothing,” Brenna downplayed. “Elena Johnson, the surgical nurse Richard had the affair with, apparently wasn’t paying attention to the sponge count and one was left inside a man, who later died from complications.”

  “Oh my,” Catie gasped, holding a hand over her mouth.

  “The way I see it, Richard was simply part of the fallout. It wasn’t his fault the nurse wasn’t doing her job. He’s hired a topnotch attorney. I’m sure he’ll be able to point all the blame at the nurse.”

  “That’s good,” Catie considered, giving me a cautious look. Catie and I had already discussed that, if our lunches continued to focus on attempts to get me back with Richard, I was going to stop coming. Likewise, I had told Brenna that we were taking a break unless she dropped the subject … but here we were.

  Brenna glared at me. “You should be standing by Richard. He must be devastated over this and he needs your support. You should be ashamed. It’s like you’re kicking him while he’s down.”

  “Everything isn’t in the file. I know other stuff. But I can’t say what it is.”

  “Because of the gag order?” Catie questioned.

  “Yes,” I answered. I wasn’t going to keep doing this. I would get up and walk out on them. And I wouldn’t use getting back to the office because I had a client coming in as an excuse.

  Then again, things were different this time. I had proof, without saying a single word. There would be no violation of the gag orders. But at the same time, I wasn’t court-ordered to dress a certain way to conceal Richard’s behaviors. Richard had screwed up. He could no longer be the nice guy, using my friends to urge his wife to return home. The tables were about to turn.

  Slowly I removed my scar
f and just looked at them. “If either of you ever suggest my getting back with Richard again, so help me, I will never speak to you again.”

  Catie’s mouth flew open and her eyes went wide. “Oh my God, Rachel, what happened?”

  “This is how Richard asked me to come back to him … do you think I should?” I posed.

  “No! No!” Catie screamed, reaching across the table for my hand. “Oh, Rachel, I’m so sorry.”

  “How about you Brenna? Are you still on Team Richard?”

  Brenna seemed to be at a loss for words. It took her a few minutes to wipe the blank look from her face. “I’m sorry too. I’ll never promote Richard again. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

  I nodded. “I still can’t say anything about what’s going on. But trust me, there’s more.”

  “We trust you,” Catie emphasized, patting my hand, and then glaring at Brenna.

  “We do,” Brenna reiterated.

  The rest of the lunch was pleasant enough and my spirit felt lighter knowing I wouldn’t have to endure them pushing for Richard ever again.

  ****

  On the way back to the office, my mother called. “Hello dear. I just wanted to touch base and let you know we’ve left Yellowstone. It was absolutely beautiful.”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” I said sincerely. “Where are you off to now?”

  “California. Of course, we’ll take in Yosemite National Park, Redwood National Park, and the Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Parks. But there are so many other things we’ve never seen.” She went into a long list of items, including the Golden Gate Bridge, Universal Studios, Hearst Castle, and Alcatraz, along with several other attractions. “And you can bet your boots that I’m doing some shopping on Rodeo Drive.” She laughed and then added, “That is, if I can find anything I can afford.” She giggled. “We’re going through San Diego too. Dad wants to go to the USS Midway Museum, and I want to take in the San Diego Zoo. I wanted to tell you we were planning on having dinner with Larry and Sharon. Ask Logan if he’d like for us to pass anything along to his parents. And, too, I was wondering how Imogene was doing so we can let Larry know about his mother.”