CHAPTER 7
Hank picked Tina up right on the dot of six. She felt rather sexy in a slinky, dark red dress, black platform shoes, carrying a matching bag. A ruby pendent and earrings given to her by an old boyfriend set off the dress, she thought, and she had pulled her medium-length hair back into a French twist.
He waited by the doorway from the living room where Uncle Bob had put him when he arrived and watched her come slowly down the curving front staircase. He wore gray dress slacks and a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up a quarter of the way, black loafers, and no tie. He took her breath away.
“Red in red,” he said when she came to stand in front of him. He bent down and kissed her softly on her lips.
She wobbled in her heels, and he steadied her before taking her arm and walking toward the front door. They said goodbye to Uncle Bob, Tina only remembering to do that when Hank did.
Outside, the air nipped at her face—it felt like it might snow. Because it was almost dark, she was glad to have Hank guiding her down the cracked walk to his silver Jaguar. The huge old tree trunk roots caused all the front walks on the street to have uneven sidewalks.
At La Forge, Hank ordered drinks, and they both relaxed against the plush booth cushions.
“Tell me everything about your day,” Hank said.
Tina took a sip of her daiquiri. She told him about Mrs. McEllen and her mother’s and uncle’s reactions to the day’s events.
“What did you do this afternoon? Go shopping?” he asked.
“No. I got on the computer and looked up how to approach cleaning up a hoarder’s house. Called Emily, my mentor when I was getting certified. She gave me a couple of people to contact about how best to do that type of job. I got to talk to one, a guy. Not many men are professional organizers, so it was interesting. He specializes in hoarders, even goes out of state to do it.”
“And Laura is delighted with the progress of your new profession.” He quirked an eyebrow at her and grinned.
“Well, I’m sure she will be.” Tina smiled. “But I haven’t told her yet. Uncle Bob offered to help.”
“He did?” Hank set his drink down, looking surprised.
“I think he’s kind of bored.”
“I imagine he is. Hope he’s better at it than at cooking.”
Tina grinned. “Yeah. He’d have to be, wouldn’t he?”
“I’d say so. Couldn’t be a much worse cook.” Hank cut up some of his steak, shaking his head. “So, how did this guy tell you to proceed with cleaning up the place?”
“Carefully. Very carefully. He said to wear clothes that covered us, gloves at all times. He said to not be surprised to find dead animals, rats, for example, even a cat or small dog.” Tina shuddered and took a drink of her daiquiri. “I’ll rent a dumpster and hire a teenager to haul stuff out as we go. That will save us both time and our backs. I don’t know how much help Jenny will be, but I’ll need her there to decide what to keep and what to toss.”
“Sounds daunting. How long do you think it will take?”
“I really have no idea. The guy couldn’t tell me since he hadn’t seen it. And neither have I. I don’t know if the attic and cellar are crammed full or not. I don’t know if there are any empty rooms, although I doubt there will be. I don’t know how quickly Jenny will make decisions about what to keep and get rid of. There will be boxes of stuff set aside for charity. If there’s enough, we’ll have to get those donated every day to make room.”
“And you’re gung ho to start.” Hank smiled and moved his arms out of the way so the waitress could take his empty plate. “You think it will be like a treasure hunt.”
“Well, won’t it be?”
“Not for everyone, red. Most of us wouldn’t even walk into the place unless we absolutely had to.”
“Including you?”
“Including me.”
“Such a wimp.” Tina laughed. “This mean you won’t come by to see how it’s going?”
“I’ll come to the front door.”
Tina studied him for a moment. She was both surprised and not surprised. She knew he was meticulously neat and clean. Well, so was she. She knew they were both curious, so why wasn’t he wondering what might be in all that mess? Ah, she knew. He didn’t think there would be anything interesting at all. What could an old lady be hiding that would interest a young man?
She, on the other hand, suspected there were secrets to unearth and treasures to find.
CHAPTER 8
After Hank left her at the front door, breathless from lingering kisses, Tina entered the house. She hadn’t bothered to ask him what he knew about Mrs. Blackwell’s murder. He wouldn’t tell her anything, and she would be annoyed by his secrecy.
After taking off her coat, she walked to the study. The room didn’t look much like it had when her father was the only one using it. Back then, he had a huge oak roll-top desk in the center of the room with a couple of leather club chairs facing it. A portable bar in front of one of the windows and a credenza behind the desk completed the furnishings. All gone. Bookshelves reaching the ceiling still lined all the walls, and two big windows set off a view of the side yard. Tina could see Mrs. Blackwell’s house, but turned her attention away from that sad structure. Resolutely, she sat down at her desk, one of three now. Both her mother and Uncle Bob had their own. Tina’s had a desktop computer, as did her mother’s. Her uncle only had a writing desk for composing letters by hand and making shopping lists.
After Tina booted up her computer, she became totally engrossed in catching up on the news, and then surfing around for more information about hoarding. She didn’t hear her mother enter the room until she coughed behind her.
Tina gave a start, then turned to face Laura, who was reading over her shoulder. “You’re going to get involved with that mess next door, aren’t you?” Laura practically stomped over to her own desk—hard to do on the lush Persian rug—and sat down heavily.
Tina frowned. “It interests me, and Jenny asked for my help.”
“Those are not good enough reasons to get involved.”
“How about the fact that no one is busting down our door to hire me? Not a nibble since my last job, which I finished two months ago.”
“Maybe a sign you should come up with something else. Or go back to being a clinical psychologist.”
“I can’t do that.” Tina felt her lips tighten into a firm line.
“Why not, Tina? Why can’t you tell me?” Her mother’s voice was almost a whisper.
Forcing herself to relax, Tina thought about it. If she told, it might get her mother off her back. But it made her feel like such a failure. Would her mother also think she failed?
“Remember what it was like when you found out I was keeping a secret from you?” Laura asked. “You need to trust me.”
“Trust you not to judge?”
Laura looked startled. “That’s what you’re afraid of?” She stared at Tina for a while. “Oh. Yes, I see. I do tend to judge, don’t I?”
“Tend to? You could be on the bench.”
Laura laughed. The tension broke, and Tina closed her eyes for a moment.
“Okay, I’ll tell you.” Let the chips fall where they may. “I was counseling a young man, a promising artist. He was depressed. I thought he was getting better, both from some medication his psychiatrist prescribed and my therapy. Then he didn’t show up for an appointment. He’d never missed one before. I called his apartment, and a police officer answered. When he found out who I was, he informed me my client had committed suicide.” Her throat still closed up when she thought about it. He’d been a beautiful man, still boyish with blond hair, blue eyes, and dimples. Dammit. Dimples. And talented. So talented.
Lost in her thoughts, she’d forgotten her mother until she spoke. “You blame yourself.”
“No. Not exactly. I wonder what I could have done, though, to prevent it. I keep thinking about what I could have said to him, how I could have done something, anyth
ing, differently. But I can’t change it.” She looked up at her mother, whose face had turned white. “And I could never go through that again. Because I still don’t have an answer to what I could have done differently. It could happen again.”
“Tina. You know it wasn’t your fault. You—”
“In my head, I know it wasn’t my fault. It was his choice. But in my heart—in my heart, I feel that there must have been something I could have done.” Tina pressed her hands against her chest. “What kind of counselor would I be, always afraid?”
Laura leaned back in her chair as if exhausted. “Yes. Yes, I see that now. You’re right. You can’t go back. But Tina, I don’t blame you.” She leaned forward again. “How could you think I wouldn’t understand?”
Tina closed her eyes. “I guess the whole thing has messed up my mental processing. I’m sorry.” Her voice caught. “I really didn’t think you’d see it my way.” She opened her eyes and saw the pained expression on her mother’s face. “Can we start over?”
“Of course.” The frown lines eased, and Laura attempted a smile. “We seem to be doing that rather often since you came home.”
“Well, I guess we’re even. You kept a secret, and so did I. Now,” she said briskly, “I assume you still don’t want me working next door.”
“I still don’t like it. But I no longer disapprove. I suppose it will be good for you. Keep you occupied.”
“Me and Uncle Bob. He offered to help.”
“What?” Her mother jumped out of her chair. Shaking her head, she muttered, “I can’t believe you two. Next thing you know, you’ll drag me into helping.” She walked away quickly, as if afraid that would actually happen.
Tina smiled and shook her head. No hug from her mother, no sentimental words. How New Englandly. Well, she’d take what she could get—her mother off her back about helping Jenny. A shiver slithered up her spine. Mrs. Blackwell’s murder had never been far from her mind. Now she wondered about the person who did it and if it might not be dangerous to help sort out all that stuff next door. Maybe there’d be a clue to the killer in there. Now the shiver worked its way down her back, and she shuddered.
CHAPTER 9
Three days later, Tina was beginning to get impatient about working next door. Midday, she saw a police officer come take down the yellow tape surrounding the Blackwell house. He went inside for a while. After he left, she called Jenny.
“I don’t know whether to be happy about that or not, Tina,” Jenny said. “Aunt Olivia’s lawyer is overseas, but he told Mother that she is co-executor and can proceed with the clean-up. His words. When he gets back, he’ll give us the details about the rest of the will.”
Tina heard someone asking a question in the background.
“Hold on a minute. My mother wants to know who’s calling.”
Tina could tell Jenny had covered the mouthpiece, and she waited impatiently for her to come back.
“Sorry about that. My mom’s anxious about everything that’s happened. The police have been out here to Quincy to question both of us. And it seems that since I found Aunt Olivia, I’m a good suspect.”
“But your clothes didn’t have spattering or anything to suggest you’d done it,” Tina protested.
“I know. But they’re thinking I could have done it earlier and cleaned up. At least, they suggested that. No proof, so for now, I’m okay.”
More talking in the background. Again, Tina could tell Jenny covered the mouthpiece.
“Sorry. As you can imagine, my mom’s a bit agitated. She’s gone now to make tea.”
“That’s okay.” Tina tried to picture what Jenny’s mother was like. Did she look like her sister Olivia? “Did the police give you the contact information for a biohazard team?”
“Yes. I have it right here. I’m going to call them after we hang up and get that started. I’ll let you know, and then we can get on it.”
“Sounds good. My uncle Bob has volunteered to help, and I’ll try to find a teenage boy to do the heavy lifting. You want me to see about renting a dumpster? I can, of course, provide boxes, then bill you for everything. I take half of the expected amount up front, and the rest when the job is over. Will that be a problem?”
“No. No, that’s fine. As I said, the lawyer told us Mom can access the funds to settle everything, including the clean-up and sale of the house.”
“So, you’re going to sell it?”
“Definitely. I doubt Mom will ever move out of our house here, and I spoke to my uncle and cousins. No one wants it, and it would be too stressful for Mom to deal with. You know, with the agoraphobia.”
“Yes, I understand.” Tina wondered what Mrs. Tinsdale would do with all that money. No traveling, obviously. She could shop on-line, but since she already had a house and presumably furnishings, how much money could she spend? She wouldn’t need a lot of clothes if she never went out.
“I’ll let you know when the biohazard team will be there,” Jenny said. “I found out Mrs. McEllen has a key, and she can let them in. I’ll come down near the time they expect to be finished.”
“Sounds like a plan to me.” Tina walked over to the window and stared at the Blackwell house. She imagined it newly painted, maybe a light blue, with the yard all fixed up. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?
CHAPTER 10
Two days later, Tina opened the front door for Jenny. It was one of those unexpectedly pleasant, rather warm winter days in Newport, and Jenny wore thick jeans and an old-looking gray sweater. With chukka boots and her hair pulled back from her face, she looked ready to work. Tina and Uncle Bob also wore jeans and sweaters. Tina was both anxious and somewhat nervous about starting. Uncle Bob motioned for Princess to stay. She looked totally baffled since she went everywhere with him. But he’d told Tina he didn’t want to expose her to anything bad in the house next door. Tina thought he was wise. It would be hard to put a mask on Princess’s long snout.
“The dumpster will be delivered around noontime,” Tina told Jenny as they walked next door. She carried a small cooler with bottled water, and her backpack contained gloves, facemasks, and other supplies. “And the neighborhood boy I found to help will be here after school every day until we’re finished.”
“Sounds as if we’re about ready.” Jenny unlocked the front door, then hesitated.
Tina didn’t blame her. She and Uncle Bob stood patiently, waiting. Jenny took a big breath and walked in. The smell hadn’t improved much after the biohazard clean-up. Tina thought it probably came from the kitchen, so they needed to tackle that room first.
She set the cooler on top of the lowest pile of boxes and took three masks out of her backpack. “These will help us breathe easier.” She handed one to Jenny and Uncle Bob, but left hers hanging around her neck so her uncle could read her lips. If it got too bad, she’d be able to put it on quickly. “First, let’s do a walk-through. I know it’s going to be pretty awful, but we’ll just tackle it piece by piece until it’s all done.” She tried to ignore the stench, but it was hard.
Actually, it was worse than she’d imagined. She’d only helped in one other cluttered home, and it had been at least fairly clean. Here, there was filth in almost every room. “Your aunt had cats? Where are they?” Tina asked. The smell was unmistakable, and she had to put on her mask.
“They both died about a month ago. Aunt Olivia told my mother when it happened.”
Tina lowered her mask to repeat what Jenny said for Uncle Bob.
“Where are they, then?” he asked.
Tina wondered too. She couldn’t imagine Mrs. Blackwell digging up the back yard to bury them.
Jenny was kind enough to remove her mask before she answered Uncle Bob. “She called someone to get them.”
“Too bad she didn’t call someone to clean up after them.” Uncle Bob looked as if he was trying to hold his breath. Tina wondered if he’d last out the day.
Cat feces were obvious in most corners of the hall. When they walked through the path betwe
en cardboard boxes piled to the ceiling, they saw only a few in the tower sitting room after Jenny switched on the overhead light. Tina thought the biohazard people were going to clean up everywhere, but she guessed they only did the room where Olivia Blackwell had been murdered. She’d check on the bedroom later. She doubted Jenny would want to go in there ever again. Maybe there’d been a mix-up when Jenny told the company what she wanted done, or maybe she didn’t know to have them do the rest. It was too late now.
The sitting room was crammed with furniture and cabinets filled with collectables jammed inside with no attempt to display them nicely. The heavy drapes were closed. Jenny put her mask back on and made her way through the clutter to the two large front windows. She pulled open the drapes, and tried to open a window. It was stuck.
“Let me do that.” Uncle Bob managed to open one window about four inches. The other one went up all the way. The cold air was a welcome relief, and the three of them gulped it for a minute before turning back to look at the room again.
Tina wanted to cry. Some pieces of furniture were valuable antiques. But the wood was scratched and the upholstery torn on every bit of it. “Your aunt just had two cats?” she asked Jenny, unable to believe only two could do that much damage.
“She used to have lots more. But when she stopped going out, she didn’t adopt any others and was finally down to those last two.”
Tina ran her hand over the top of a Morris chair, but stopped when she realized how dusty her glove had become. She noticed Uncle Bob looked rather green around the gills. She remembered their conversation about his almost marrying Mrs. Blackwell. She bet he was glad it hadn’t happened. His Navy sensibilities must be in an uproar.
“Let’s see if all the rooms are like this, and open some more windows.” Tina saw that the door to the adjoining room was totally blocked, so they went across the hall, single-file, and entered the home office. She counted four desks in this one, all crammed together against one wall. Uncle Bob made his way to the windows, drew the heavy drapes, and opened the windows with difficulty. Tina noticed that the room was opposite the office in her mother’s house across the yard. Boxes lined the walls. The center of the room contained various articles such as old, broken lamps, fake plants, small tables, and several decrepit desk chairs. She realized there would be some difficulty finding a place to put the stuff they weren’t going to throw out.
Buried Under Clutter (Tina Tales Mysteries Book 2) Page 3