To my amazement, she answered her cell phone.
“It’s Charlotte. Are you free?” I said.
“Finished my shift at the nursing home.”
“I have a little job for you.”
Lilith is putting herself through college by working a variety of jobs, some odder than others. She solved her rent problem when she moved in with our friend Rose Skipowski. Now Rose has live-in care with Lilith, and Lilith has a whole floor to herself and all the cookies she could ever eat. Jack’s last foster dog, Schopenhauer, has found a permanent home with one disabled dog lover and one lively young dog walker. Win-win.
“Whatcha got?”
“It will take a bit to explain it.” Not strictly speaking true. I could have summarized the whole thing efficiently in two dozen words. But it was getting late. I was getting hungry. Plus I enjoyed Lilith’s company and I knew she was broke. “How about trying Wet Paint? I’ve been wanting to go there.”
“Are you kidding? I can’t afford that.”
“It’s my treat. Part of the job.”
“Don’t feel sorry for me. I can pay my own way, if it’s Mickey D’s or Betty’s even.”
“I make it a policy not to feel sorry for starving students who are working three part-time jobs. Since I want to get a little information and advice from you, I should be willing to pay for dinner. No?”
“Information?”
“When we get there.”
Lilith Carisse usually makes an impact in public. It used to be because she had purple hair, but now that she has turquoise and black hair in stubby ponytails, it is more the nose ring and the face piercings. Or perhaps the tattoos. I don’t care. It’s what’s inside that counts. And behind that metal and those tattoos, Lilith is kind and honest with a marshmallow center.
At Betty’s Lilith draws stares the way a porch light draws moths. In Wet Paint she didn’t raise an eyebrow.
“So, Lilith,” I said when we took stainless and leather chairs in the corner, near a glowing red wall, “how would you like to get paid to play with stuffed animals for a couple of days?”
“Sounds good. I’m trying to build my tuition fund. I’ve been offered an extra shift for a couple of weeks in the cafeteria of the nursing home. They find it hard to get people to work on the weekend. And Jack said he could use some more help at the bike shop. But this sounds a lot more fun. Are you flexible about the hours?”
“Sure. Here’s the situation. My client, Emmy Lou, has an incredible number of stuffed animals. We’re talking thousands. They’re taking over her house. They’ve captured the bed, and if she’s not careful, they’ll move downstairs and maybe even follow her to her office.”
“Like science fiction.”
“She wants them organized.”
“I’ll bet she does.”
A whippet-thin server arrived at our table with the hand-drawn menus. He grinned at Lilith.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey.”
Apparently they knew each other.
“Specials are on the front,” he said, handing us each an oversize menu.
For a fleeting moment I thought Lilith was blushing. I shook my head. Such a thing was not possible. Flaming cheeks did not go well with turquoise hair.
“Something from the bar?” he asked.
Once he left to get Lilith a glass of water and me something called a martini primavera, I said, “So I guess sideburns are coming back.”
“Hmm,” she said, studying the menu.
“Interesting look with the fauxhawk,” I said.
“He’s in one of my classes,” she murmured.
“That’s a coincidence.”
I was impressed by her expression of exquisite boredom. “Between jobs and school, I meet a lot of people in Woodbridge.”
I figured that was the end of that, so I got back on topic. “The problem is she’s pretty emotional about it. She wants to deal with them today and she might not tomorrow. So I have to act fast. That’s where you come in. The usual sifting, sorting, packing, and disposing.”
“You said emotional. What happens if I turn down these other jobs and then she weasels out?”
“I’m meeting her tomorrow with a plan and a contract. We’ll have a cancellation clause in there so you’ll get paid for two days anyway.”
Lilith nodded. She obviously approved of that tactic. “Charlotte, you drive such a hard bargain.”
“I know. I’m a beast.”
“Count me in. This is too good to miss. Let me know where and when.”
I gave Lilith the address on Bell Street and waited until she wrote it down.
“Assuming it’s a go, I’d like to get started Monday afternoon when Emmy Lou’s at the office. That work for you?”
“Even if it didn’t, I can’t wait to get a look at thousands of plush toys. You know what, it sounds kind of freaky.”
I grinned. “It’s peculiar but sweet, except for the striped snake. Sorry to disappoint. I bet you’d prefer freaky.”
She grinned back at me. “You know me.”
“If freaky’s your thing, then you might want to get a look at her next-door neighbor and his friend. They’re part of the reason I want to get on this right away.”
“Hold on,” Lilith said. “These guys are freaky how? You-show-me-your-AK-47-and-I’ll-show-you-mine freaky?”
I shook my head. “A pair of overgrown misfits who seem to be a bit obsessed with my client, that’s all. She might be a bit afraid of them but also unwilling to admit it. In my opinion it’s a form of stalking. The neighbors are worried.” I thought about Patti and her comments about Kevin. “But not all of them.”
“Call me crazy, but isn’t that the point where you call the police?”
“I did mention it to Pepper Monahan. She said she can’t do anything without a formal complaint.”
A sneer crept over Lilith’s face. “That’s cops for you. Hassle people minding their own business if they’re poor or on the street, but they don’t mind waiting until they kill someone if they live in a decent neighborhood.”
One of these days, I hoped I would learn about Lilith’s former life. But I knew better than to push. “Pepper cares about things like that.”
“If you say so.”
“I want you on the job so that we can do this over a couple of days and my client won’t be there alone. We’ll have time to figure out whether there is a real problem.”
“Rose’s daughter is actually visiting from California this week, so I don’t have to worry about her. So I could even stay overnight if that would make a difference.”
“Thank you. I’ll let you know if that’s what we need. To tell the truth, these guys are sort of pathetic and goofy. I’m not completely convinced they’re dangerous. I’d like to be reassured. I’m worried about it on one hand, but on the other they seem incapable of doing any real harm. I mean, they scare easily.”
She chuckled. “How do you know that?”
I snapped open the oversize menu. “Let’s order and I’ll tell you later. But first: new idea. I’d like Emmy Lou to meet you and learn what you’ll be doing. I think it will help her stay committed to the project. Can you show up around three tomorrow to meet her?”
“I’ll be like the old ball and chain?”
“Exactly. You’re perfect for it. It’s a metal theme.”
Business out of the way, we got serious about that menu. When our server returned, Lilith ordered the grilled vegetarian medley and I chose the seared scallops with a citrus salad.
“Excellent choice,” he said to her.
“So,” Lilith said, once he’d zoomed off to the kitchen, “what’s the information you need?”
I filled her in on the details of Kevin and Tony and their weird behavior and even my stupid action the night before. Lilith had spent some time as a street kid before she managed to pull herself together. She didn’t talk much about those experiences, but she survived because she’d become a good judge of people.
“What do you think?” I asked. “Do these guys sound dangerous to you?”
“Hard to tell. Sounds like developmental issues. Maybe one of them has a thing for Emmy Lou.”
“She is a beautiful woman, but she must be nearly twenty years older than they are.”
“Don’t count it out.”
As we chatted and caught up on what we’d each been doing lately, our eyes were drawn to a lovely young woman with luxurious long dark hair and a slinky red dress. She crossed the restaurant floor as if she owned it and the rest of Woodbridge. She opened a door along the side of the room and vanished inside. I figured every male in Wet Paint sighed with disappointment. Except for our server, who had eyes only for Lilith.
Our food arrived quickly and perfectly. As it did, the light went on by the piano.
“I hope you like jazz,” I said.
I turned as a commotion erupted across the room. The girl in the red dress stormed back in. A short bald man in a rumpled Hugo Boss suit raced after her and grabbed her arm. She pulled away from him and kept going. He followed her through the front door and out onto the street. The girl kept walking with her arms folded over her chest, shaking her head, long hair swinging behind her. Whatever he was arguing about, she wasn’t happy. She shook her head and continued up the hill. He kept pace until they turned the corner and they both vanished from view.
I knocked over my water glass. “Holy crap. That’s Dwayne.”
Lilith used her napkin to start mopping. “Who’s Dwayne?”
“He’s Emmy Lou Rheinbeck’s wonderful loving husband.” I couldn’t believe it. If I’d actually read his business card instead of leaving it on Emmy Lou’s coffee table, I might not have chosen his restaurant for my get-together with Lilith.
Lilith said, “Oops. Your client? So she may be beautiful, but I’m betting that girl he’s chasing is not even twenty-one.”
Never leave anything lying on your stairs. You know why not.
7
Sometimes nothing but a bubble bath will do. I love them. Truffle and Sweet Marie are always fascinated. I ran the tub and poured in a double helping of coconut-mango-scented bubble bath and settled in for a long soak. But instead of relaxing, I found myself reliving the scene with Dwayne pursuing the girl in the red dress. Maybe it hadn’t been what it looked like.
Let’s just say, my mother had run through four husbands and a lot of also-rans and usually if my spider senses tingle, I’m right.
But what would that mean for Emmy Lou?
After half an hour, I had managed to unkink and stepped out. I wrapped myself in my favorite big, soft bath sheet and prepared to finish off the perfect Saturday night.
“That’s it, we’re turning in,” I told the dogs. The blast of the phone near midnight came as a shock. Another shock as an angry voice hit my ear.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Hello, Pepper,” I said. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
“I’m talking about you harassing people.”
“What?”
“You heard me, Charlotte Adams.”
“Who am I supposed to have harassed?”
“The same people you told me to investigate. You had me digging around to see if there was anything in the system about them, and now I hear you’re threatening them with violence. You’d better not get me caught in any of your crap. Or you’ll have a lot more than messy closets to worry about.”
“But I never threatened them with…” The scene on Bell Street played in my head. Kevin had been frightened. I’d been pleased about that, even though I felt bad after.
“What? You’ve gone quiet. You did, didn’t you?”
“No. Not really. I chastised them. Told them to leave Emmy Lou alone.”
“The complaint said yelling, threatening, and foul language. Acting crazy.”
“Does that sound like me?” My heart was racing now. What happened when someone made a complaint against you?
“The crazy part does.”
“Listen to the language. Kevin and Tony didn’t use those words.”
“It doesn’t matter who called it in. You can’t go around threatening people.”
“Don’t I have the right to know who’s saying these things about me?”
“You have the right to mind your own business and to leave other people alone. Remember that in future.”
Pepper likes to be the one who slams down the phone. But first she said, “They might seek a restraining order against you. One more bit of vigilante hooliganism and you’ll be hauled before a judge.
I said, “But…”
There wasn’t enough coconut-mango bubble bath in the world to counter the effects of a call from Pepper.
But who had made the complaint? And why had they picked Pepper to call?
I was feeling my lack of sleep Sunday afternoon as I spun along Long March Road, heading for Bell Street and my appointment with Emmy Lou. I was still fuming over who had made that complaint when my cell phone rang. The number was blocked, but I took the call in case Emmy Lou was attempting to cancel.
A man’s deep voice said, “Charlotte Adams?”
“Yes.”
“This is the Woodbridge Emergency Services.” The voice was calm.
I gasped. “It’s not true. I wasn’t harassing them. I don’t care if someone—”
“Take a deep breath, ma’am.”
When did I hit “ma’am”? I’m only thirty. “I did not threaten those boys.”
“Not sure what that’s about, ma’am. But we have a report of a fire at your home.” Chills ran down my spine as he said my address. “Second floor?”
“Yes.”
“The trucks are on their way.”
“The dogs! Please make sure my dogs are okay.” But the phone line was dead.
I made a U-turn and spun back toward my place. Jack was home. He would let the firefighters know about Truffle and Sweet Marie. I hit speed dial, but Jack’s cell phone went straight to message. What if Jack had been overcome by smoke? What if almost everyone and everything I cared about was dead?
The Miata may be cute, but it’s also very fast; I put the petal to the metal and broke a few laws getting back home.
I squealed into the driveway.
No fire trucks.
No smoking ruins.
No tiny charred bodies.
The beautiful old two-story Victorian with the white gingerbread that Jack had grown up in and that his wonderful parents had left to their only son was the same way I’d left it. Jack was in the driveway, vacuuming out the Mini Minor. Something to do with the Great Dane.
I sat in the Miata and shook with relief. Jack ambled in my direction, grinning amiably.
“What’s up? Meeting canceled?” he said. “That’s great because we can hang out. Have some fun. Better late than never. Sorry about last night.”
I got out of the car and gave him a bear hug and got the front of his blue and orange Hawaiian shirt wet with a few accidental tears. In turn, he patted my head.
“I thought you were dead. I thought the dogs were toast. I thought the house was burned down.”
Jack said, “Huh?”
You’d think that someone so close to getting a PhD would be more articulate in highly emotional moments. The bear hugging and head patting went on for a while, until Jack said, “What made you think there was a fire?”
I filled him in on the phone call. Of course, before the words were out of my mouth I realized how dumb that was. Woodbridge Emergency Services would not have my cell phone number. And even if they had it, it was highly unlikely they would call people in their cars and tell them their houses were burning.
I stumbled upstairs, my knees weak, and staggered into my apartment. Truffle and Sweet Marie were in the middle of their second or possibly third afternoon nap and were less excited about seeing me than I was about seeing them.
“I’ve been had,” I said.
“I guess so,”
Jack said. “You should probably have a bit of ice cream to settle you down after the shock.”
I said, gathering up the dogs, “It was a very upsetting few minutes.”
“Weird kind of practical joke. Who would do something like that?”
“Oh, I have a pretty good idea.” A vision of Kevin and Tony making faces in Emmy Lou’s window flashed in my mind.
“Who?”
“Two people I can’t even speak to, because I’ve been accused of harassing them. And the police, in the person of Pepper, told me to back off and leave them alone.”
Jack stared at me. “Are you making this up? Possibly to get ice cream?”
“No, I am not making this up for any reason. And the ice cream is mine, in my freezer, paid for with my cash might I add. I don’t need to make up traumatic experiences to get it. I can eat it out of the container if I want to.”
“That sounds good. I’ll join you.”
“Actually, let’s save it until I’m back from my meeting.”
“I’ll be here.”
I left a message for Emmy Lou explaining that I’d been delayed because of an emergency. I chewed my lower lip as I drove toward Bell Street. Why wasn’t Emmy Lou answering? Had she decided to blow off the meeting? I tried to reach Lilith too, but, of course, she would have been waiting outside Emmy Lou’s house, wondering where the hell I was. I figured her cell phone had been turned off, or being Lilith and often broke, maybe she’d run out of minutes.
Kevin and Tony, I imagined, would have been somewhere nearby laughing their hooded heads off. Although in the back of my mind, I wondered how they could have pulled that one over on me.
Even as I turned the corner to Bell Street, I could see the commotion. Emmy Lou Rheinbeck was standing in the middle of the street, clutching an armload of stuffed toys. She looked like a large deranged child. Today her sleek red bob was a tangled mess. Lilith had her arms around her, holding her back from…what? Patti Magliaro was loping across the street toward them, her flowered peasant skirt swirling and her long grey braid flapping behind her. Princess, the cat, struggled against the leash. A man in his late sixties stood staring across the street at the fracas.
The Cluttered Corpse Page 7