by Rachel Lee
“I was always told not to do that.”
“Good advice. Paint on paper seldom looks good. It just seems to highlight the inconsistencies in the wallpapering. But you have the same problem with drywall, which is why you’ll see me texture these walls before I paint them, unless I decide to paper them. I’m just enough of a perfectionist not to want to see shadows on walls where the wallboard is a little bent, or if the mudding shows through. Want some coffee?”
Colleen called while the coffee brewed, begging permission to stay with Mary Jo until that evening. Beth insisted she would enjoy it as much as the girls.
“Thanks,” Del said finally, when she was sure it wouldn’t be an imposition. “I’ve been tearing Colleen’s room apart and moving her.”
Silence. Then, “Colleen said something about hearing noises.”
“Yeah. And last night I heard them, too. So you can tell her I’m going to get rid of the vermin if I have to tear out every wall in this house.”
Beth laughed. “I’ll do that. And if you want her to stay overnight, I can just drop by to get some clothes for her. The place must be a dusty mess.”
“That’s an understatement.”
“Okay, when John gets back from Carl’s ball game, I’ll run over. I can do everything except get her to school in the morning. And I don’t mind at all.”
There it was again, that feeling of being cared for. Del felt her throat tighten just a bit and wondered how she’d managed for so long to overlook such little acts of kindness. Maybe because recognizing them made her feel weak? And she couldn’t afford that. Ever.
When she closed her phone, the coffee was ready and she realized she was hungry. “Something to eat?” she asked Mike.
“Tell you what. I’ll run over to Maude’s and pick us up a heart attack. I think we’re working hard enough to survive steak sandwiches and fries.”
“That does sound good. But have some coffee first. If your throat is as coated with dust as mine, you need to drink something before it all turns to plaster again.”
He laughed but didn’t linger, downing the coffee quickly. Then, covered in dust except for his face, forearms and hands, which he’d wiped down with a damp dish towel, he set out, promising to return quickly.
And that left Del alone in the house again. Hell. At least the growl of the storm had receded into the distance, although she could still see lighter rain falling. After calling Sally to tell her she wouldn’t be needed today after all, she returned to work.
Taking a flashlight and a pry bar with her, she headed back to Colleen’s room. While she waited for Mike, she could take down some of that lath. If experience was any guide, age should have caused the wood to shrink enough to make pulling out nails relatively easy.
She didn’t want to use the lights in here now, either. Pulling all that plaster might have damaged wiring.
She started near the bottom, the place where she’d most likely find animal leavings if there were any. Three boards came off quickly, shedding more dust and making her sneeze and cough. “Keys” fell to the floor along with the boards, sending up small clouds. She should have worn her mask, but right now she was more concerned about finding something. Anything that would explain that darn noise.
She pulled one more board, finding it somewhat more difficult, then leaned in as far as she could, the flashlight on and sideways.
The gap between inner and outer walls was bigger than the norm. Whoever had built this house had used six-inch studs rather than the two-by-fours that were common in later construction. Another mystery. Mike was right. She ought to look into who had built this house, because they had made some interesting choices. The studs were also set farther apart, not the sixteen inches most common in modern building. Well, of course, with sturdier studs, you could make that tradeoff.
And she couldn’t see a darn thing that looked like rodent droppings or a rodent nest. If anything had ever lived in this wall, its leavings had long since turned to dust.
“Del?”
Startled by the unexpected voice, she jerked and banged her head. A moment later, eyes watering from pain, she sat on the floor looking up at her plumbing contractor, Edgar Dorset.
“Sorry,” he said. “I thought you heard me come in.”
She set the flashlight down and rubbed her head. “It’s okay. What’s up?”
“I couldn’t remember if you wanted me tomorrow. I’ve got a job in Laramie, but I can put it off till Tuesday.”
She looked up at the man, taking in his slightly plump figure, his “Sunday” clothes, his round face and balding head. She had wanted him tomorrow because she was concerned about getting Colleen’s bathroom whipped into shape. But now with the wall business… “It’s okay, Edgar. It can wait a few days. If a few days is all you need.”
“Oh, I can be here Tuesday.” He indicated the wall with a jerk of his head. “Something going on?”
“I think I’ve got vermin.”
“That’s no fun. I had a rat die in my wall three years ago.”
“I’m trying to avoid that.”
“I can sure understand why.” He squatted beside her and peered into the dark opening. “There’s plenty of room. Have you considered trying to smoke it out?”
“I don’t know. I mean this lath is so old it’s probably tinder.”
“Good point.” He settled back a bit and smiled. “I’ll think about it while I’m in Laramie. There’s got to be some way to deal with this short of tearing the house down.”
“You’d think.”
He chuckled and stood. “See you Tuesday then, Del. Eight sharp?”
“As always. Say, if you run into Jimmy—” Jimmy was her electrical contractor “—tell him I might need him soon. Ripping out these walls might have damaged some of the wiring.”
“I’ll maybe see him tonight. It might be Sunday, like my wife says, but we play poker anyway.”
“I don’t know why it would offend the Lord more on Sunday than any other day.”
His eyes twinkled. “That’s my feeling. Seems like he said it was a day of rest. That’s how I rest. Hannah don’t always agree with that.”
She could believe that. And she had wondered more than once if Hannah had been born with a prune face. But whatever her disapproval of Edgar’s poker, she loved the man to death. That much was clear.
“How soon do you need Jimmy?”
“Well, nothing seems to be shorted, so I think I can get by for a day or so just by not turning on lights in here. But I need to be sure.”
“Absolutely. You still thinking about tearing out that wall in the basement?”
“Eventually.” She looked at the hole she had just made in the lath and sighed. “Of course, if I can’t find the vermin here I may have to go at it sooner. That brick wall seems to be right beneath us.”
“True.” He rubbed his chin. “I’ll mention that to Jimmy, too. Unlikely that wall isn’t flush up against the basement wall, though, so I’d be surprised if you’d find anything behind it. But if you decide you need to pull it out, the two of us can help.” He winked. “Some things can always use an extra strong back.”
She returned his smile, but she wasn’t exactly wet behind the ears. Both Jimmy and Edgar could always use extra work, even if it was carting bricks out of the basement. The offer of help would come with a bill attached. Not that she would blame them for that. They all had families to support and bills to pay.
Edgar took his leave, but just as Del was about to pry loose some more lath, she heard Mike call her from the kitchen.
“Del? Lunch is here and it’s hot.”
The news caused a Pavlovian response. At once her stomach growled and her mouth started watering. Straightening, she automatically brushed her dusty hands against her jeans, then realized the jeans were even dustier. Duh. Just another sign of lack of sleep.
She washed up at the kitchen sink and joined Mike at the table where he’d set a couple of foam containers and two tall soft drinks wit
h straws. When she opened her container, the incredible smell of the steak sandwich and fries reached her nose and she drew it in with pleasure.
“Colleen would be so upset if she saw me eating this.”
“Why?”
“Because we have to watch what she eats. She’s…less active now, obviously.”
Mike’s gaze softened. “That has to be tough.”
“At her age? You better believe it. But she’s pretty good about it most of the time. Every now and then we break the rules. But mostly we have to eat healthy stuff.”
He looked down at his sandwich. “I don’t think the sandwich is all that unhealthy. But the fries…” He shook his head. “I’m always having to tell dog owners that if they want to share fries with their pooch, one fry is plenty. They’re not big enough, most of them, to justify human-size servings.”
Del grinned. “I don’t think I’ve heard it put that way before.”
“Neither have a lot of dog owners.” He smiled at her, then lifted his sandwich. “We all want to pamper our pets. I’m a sucker for it myself. Those big sad eyes, that wagging tail…hard to say no to. But for most dogs, if you’re going to break down, a taste is more than enough. Heck, you can even give your dog a piece of chocolate-chip cookie. But just a piece.”
“I thought chocolate was poison to them.”
“It can be, if they get enough of it, and what constitutes enough is based on their body size. What would kill a Chihuahua obviously wouldn’t kill a Great Dane.”
She bit into her own sandwich, savoring it. “Thanks so much for this. It’s wonderful.”
“You’re more than welcome. I’m not exactly being generous here. I’ve been thinking about one of these all morning. Did I see Edgar Dorset leaving when I pulled up?”
“Yeah. He was supposed to do some plumbing for me tomorrow but he got offered a job in Laramie and wondered if I could wait until Tuesday. Considering this whole process just took a sharp, unexpected turn, I can wait on the plumbing for a day. He was nice though. He said if I needed help with the brick wall in the basement, he and Jimmy would be glad to lend their backs.” She smiled. “Invoice attached, I’m sure.”
“I’m sure. Who’s Jimmy?”
“Jimmy Morton. He’s my electrician.”
Mike’s brow knit. “I don’t think I’ve met him.”
“Well, I don’t usually see him about much. He seems like a lonely man, actually, but then my only contact with him is when he’s working. I guess he and Edgar play poker together, so maybe I’m all wet.” And how normal and natural it seemed to be sitting here gossiping about other folks in the county. It had been a long time since she’d done that.
She rolled her shoulders to loosen muscles and reached for another fry. Oh, the sin! Colleen would surely kill her if she found out. She looked up to find Mike’s attention was focused on his meal, which gave her a few moments to study him.
And once again she felt the pull of attraction. He was a magnificently attractive man and she wondered if he even realized it. Probably not, as skittish as he was.
But it had been a long time since she’d noticed a man that way, and she decided not to fight it. Mike would evidently fight it enough for both of them if he happened to feel the same attraction.
But she found herself enjoying the way his muscles moved under his black—well, it had been black this morning, but now it was so full of plaster dust it looked more like a dark gray—T-shirt. And he was unquestionably handsome. Hadn’t she once heard someone say that the Cheyenne were beautiful people?
As soon as the thought crossed her mind, she pulled back from it. There was a judgment in that statement, regardless of who had said it and how it was meant. She looked down and bit her lip, realizing that Mike probably had ample reason to be wary, especially if thoughts like that could occur to her. Maybe there was some of that ugliness buried deep in her own mind.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
“Not a thing.” Not a thing except she had realized she’d picked up some mental lint she didn’t want, and nothing, of course, except that she was starting to become too entirely aware that he was a man and she was a woman. The kind of awareness she had lost in the aftermath of tragedy.
An awareness she didn’t need or want, at least not now. Her priorities had to lie in a different direction.
She hastened to eat another fry so he wouldn’t find cause to question her again.
Just focus on the important stuff, she told herself.
Like Colleen and the noises in her room. No time to be remembering she was a woman with needs and wants. Not for at least a few years.
But she could still enjoy the view. The thought made her smile secretly. That much was allowed.
Chapter 6
T he rain let up during the afternoon, so Mike helped her carry the chunks of plaster out to the huge commercial trash bin she kept in her garage. Whenever she filled it, she called the removal people to tow it away and leave her with a fresh one.
Removing the plaster proved even more time-consuming than knocking it off the walls in the first place. By the time they were done, it was late afternoon and more clouds were crowding in.
But Mike didn’t look in the least tired. He knocked dust off himself and asked, “What next?”
“Frankly, if I don’t find something in the walls, I don’t know.”
They went back into the house together, and Del started snapping on lights in the hallway, in the kitchen, even work lamps in the living room. The darkness of the day got to be a drag, and in some way made her edgy.
“Well,” Mike said once light flooded all the downstairs rooms except the one they had spent the day tearing apart, “we could try a campout.”
She stopped and looked at him. “A what?”
“A campout. You’ve got the walls torn out. All the activity might have frightened the vermin away temporarily. So we could sit in that darn room tonight and just listen.”
“I could also spray something in the walls to kill whatever it is and live with the odor.”
“Weeks or maybe longer depending on how big it is.”
“Damn.” She stared down at her toes. “Well, it must be big.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because every now and then I find things moved after I’ve been out a little while. And some of the stuff isn’t exactly lightweight.”
She raised her gaze slowly and found him totally arrested, staring off into space.
Finally he said, “Why didn’t you mention that before?”
“Because…well, it sounds nuts. It has to be nuts. I probably just don’t remember where I put stuff.”
“Maybe.”
She wished she hadn’t said anything. She didn’t like the way he stared past her, as if he didn’t want to meet her gaze.
But finally his dark eyes came back to her and he said quietly, “Have you considered the possibility that someone is trying to scare you?”
She gasped in shock. “Why would anyone…? Mike, that’s crazy. That’s paranoid!”
“Maybe so.” He shrugged one shoulder. “But given the sounds, and given stuff being moved, I wouldn’t be too quick to dismiss it.”
She wanted to argue with him. She wanted to believe that he was seeing this whole thing through some level of distrust because of the way he had been treated.
But she had heard the sounds. Colleen had been frightened by them more than once. And things had been out of place. Just enough, and just often enough, that she had started to scan every room when she entered it after being gone for a while, sort of like a personal mental health test. Did I remember correctly where I put it? She’d even started to pay closer attention every time she put something down.
“Damn,” she said, and took two steps so that she could sag onto the bottom step of the wide staircase. “Damn.”
“I’m sorry.” He sounded stiff. “I don’t mean to upset you. That was thoughtless.”
“Oh, stop it,” she sigh
ed. “Just stop it. Why would it be any crazier that someone might be trying to scare me than that I’m suddenly losing my ability to remember where I put things? I mean, the latter sounds like a bigger problem than the former.”
“I could see how you might think that.”
She shook her head. “But there’s absolutely no reason for anyone to want to scare me. Nobody else would want this house in its current condition.”
“Then I’m wrong.”
But she couldn’t quite agree. Losing her mind or being deliberately scared by someone. She preferred the latter, frankly. The thought that she was becoming forgetful had been bothering her. But if she went the other way, there was a question that had to be answered.
“Why did that thought occur to you?”
“I don’t know.” He spread his hands. “Random brain misfire? Psychic intuition? Maybe because I said something earlier about how tearing the walls out felt like a treasure hunt?”
She started to nod thoughtfully. “I guess that makes a kind of sense. I suppose someone might think there’s something of value hidden in here.”
“Oh, it’s ridiculous.” He turned, saw a wooden chair against a wall, and dragged it over, straddling it and folding his arms across the back so he was close and could look at her. He sighed. “It just popped out. In the first place, somebody would have to have a reason to think something of value is hidden here. Which would mean a former occupant, or relative of an occupant. And what would you say if someone came up to you and said, ‘I think Grandma left her life savings in a tin can under the floor?’”
Almost in spite of herself, Del grinned. “Frankly, I’d tell them that if I found Grandma’s savings, I’d give it to them.”
“Exactly. Most people would do precisely that. So it’s ridiculous to think someone would go to such great lengths to scare you out of the house. I mean, even if Grandma did leave her savings in here somewhere, it’s unlikely to amount to more than a few hundred dollars. If it hasn’t rotted away.”
“True.” But she couldn’t fail to note the way he seemed to be talking himself out of the idea more than her. Yet he was the one who had brought it up. But he was also the one who had said the house felt sad.