“Your sister is a police officer. She can take care of herself.” He looked her straight in the eye—his way of making sure she paid attention. “When Jessie draws it’s with an automatic, not a red grading pen.”
Andi knew there was no point in arguing. First, he was right. Jessie was better equipped to take care of herself. Second, Andi would always be considered the baby of the family. She was lucky he still didn’t remind her to look both ways before crossing the street.
He set down his mug, snatched the newspaper from the table, and headed down the hall.
“Life’s not fair. Get used to it,” Jessie teased while returning to the dining room table with a mug of coffee. The doorbell interrupted their conversation. “I’ll get it. You never know when an armed kindergartener might follow you home to raid the place.”
“Very funny,” Andi answered. “If that’s the mailman at the door, don’t shoot first and ask questions later, Dirty Harriet.”
Andi noticed her red pen at the end of the dining room table, next to her grade book. Looking at it reminded her that everyone in her family thought she couldn’t defend herself because she was only a teacher. She snatched it up with one quick move and shoved it into the pocket of her gray shorts.
A broken fan’s loud, obnoxious whine told her their father had found the bathroom.
Hoping the fan would prove to be a small fix, Andi sipped her coffee. A gruff male voice at the door caught her by surprise. Turning in her chair, she watched Jessie step aside to allow their visitor inside.
The man looked a lot like Andi’s school principal—a balding, short, older gentleman. His chestnut toupee sat askew on top of his natural gray hair. He also had the same tight, pinched expression her father wore whenever his hemorrhoids flared up.
A younger, taller man entered the foyer behind the older one. Recognition sparked deep within her. With his sandy-brown hair and welcoming smile, he resembled . . . Andi’s heart stopped. No. It couldn’t be. Yet she knew it was Luke Ryder. Her mind swirled in a dozen different directions.
Why is he here, in my home, after all these years? I haven’t seen him since my freshman year of college.
Their eyes met. His smile faded and his strong jaw tightened. “Andi . . .” Her name hung in the air like a mistake no one wanted to acknowledge. “It’s been a long time.”
“Luke . . .”
How long had it been since that night? Eight years? No. Nine.
Nine years since he said he couldn’t marry her and marched out of her dorm room.
Jessie’s gaze traveled between the two of them. “You know each other?”
Long work hours back then had kept Jessie from meeting Luke the half a dozen times he’d been at their family home for Sunday dinner. Since he had never officially proposed, the family knew only that Andi had once been serious about him. They had no clue how serious. She had been afraid that telling everyone about their plans before he proposed would bring bad luck. Looking back on things, she realized she might have had better luck carrying a black cat, stepping on cracks, and throwing mirrors while walking under a ladder.
She managed to pull her gaze away from his dark-brown eyes. “We knew each other in college. Luke, this is my sister, Jessie. She lives with me.”
A hesitant smile tugged at his lips before he shook Jessie’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m the property manager for Euphoria Lane Condominiums.” He turned to the older man. “This is Harry Fletcher, the HOA vice president.”
“President,” Harry interjected in a coarse, nasal tone. “I am now president of the homeowners’ association.” He acted as if he were the king of a rich, oil-producing country instead of a gated community made up of two hundred condominiums.
Luke studied an envelope on the clipboard he carried. “Andi, I heard you found Bernice yesterday.”
“Bernice?” Andi forced herself to focus on the conversation.
“The dead woman,” her sister clarified while eyeing the older man suspiciously. “Have we met before?”
“No.” Harry’s answer came too fast and too loud.
“I’m sure I’ve seen you somewhere before.” Jessie tapped her lips with her pointer finger as she studied the man.
“You have me mistaken for someone else,” he snapped.
Jessie grinned with obvious satisfaction when she remembered. She turned to Andi and twirled her hair the way she did whenever she wore her waitress uniform. Her undercover persona involved playing pretty and dumb.
Andi’s gaze traveled between Jessie and Harry. Understanding made its way into her consciousness, past the shock of seeing Luke again. The new board president was clearly a customer at the sleazy diner. A wave of trepidation rolled over her like a premonition.
Not sure what to think, Andi turned back to the man she had once loved. Emotional memories hit her full force. Feeling overwhelmed by the events of her first two days in her new home, Andi aimed for calm and collected. She gestured toward the living room.
“Would you like to sit down?”
“We won’t be taking up much of your time,” Luke said as he surveyed the condo. “Unpacking is always a huge job.”
She tried to see the room as he would. More than a dozen cardboard boxes lined the walls, their lids standing open, half gutted of their contents. Newspaper used for packing littered the carpet and tile. Piles of books and dishes took up room on counters and tabletops. She felt self-conscious and wished she were more organized. Her motto had always been, “Everything has a place—and one day I’ll put it there.”
This man, with his impeccable hair, tailored tan chinos, and long-sleeved black shirt, had always looked like he just stepped out of the pages of GQ. She always looked like she stepped off the cover of MAD Magazine.
I would have to see him again, after all these years, wearing a pink, oversize, “I-Love-Chocolate” T-shirt.
Embarrassed, Andi crossed her arms over her chest.
“You the welcome wagon?” Jessie tilted her head as if to get a better look at Luke. “Where’s the casserole?”
He glanced down at his clipboard again, but not before his expression gave away his discomfort. “No food today, ladies. Only my assurance Euphoria is a safe community. Since you were the one who found Bernice, I thought I should tell you nothing like this has ever happened here before. There’s no need to be alarmed by her unfortunate—”
“Stop pussyfooting around!” The older man snatched the envelope off the clipboard and shoved it at her. “We came over to give you this.”
Luke glared at him. “I wanted to handle this my way.”
Harry scoffed and turned on Andi. “We have rules here, Miss Stevenson. We maintain the value of our homes by adhering to those rules.”
She ripped open the envelope as Jessie peered over her shoulder. In large letters, the words WARNING and PARKING VIOLATION jumped out at her. She could feel her face redden.
This can’t be.
“Why are you doing this to me?”
Luke jerked back. “It’s not personal. It’s my job.”
Andi sighed. “That is a private street out front. There’s no traffic. You honestly expected us to park a moving van a building away and haul everything over? No one does that.”
“It’s only a warning . . .” Luke insisted.
“A warning I shouldn’t be receiving, Mr. Ryder. I was told this Bernice woman might have been killed because of her unrelenting enforcement of the rules. She made enemies. I’m sure the rest of the board doesn’t want to follow in her footsteps.”
Luke creased his brow. “Did you hear a threat made against the board?”
“Not exactly,” she admitted. “If I had, I would have called the authorities. You know that.”
This time Harry’s gaze traveled between them. “Just how well do you two know each other?”
“Boys . . .” Jessie cooed. She looped her arm around Harry’s. “Why don’t we sit down and relax while you tell us how we can make this thing go away?”
“Let’s not!” Harry yanked his arm out of her reach as if she had a contagious disease. He glared at her. “Only respectable people are allowed to live in Euphoria.”
Oh, great! He thinks my sister is a drug-dealing hooker because she’s playing undercover waitress at the diner.
Jessie glared back at him.
Andi had never seen a standoff before, but she knew she was witnessing one now. Harry obviously wanted them out of his community, but Jessie wasn’t going to budge an inch.
Andi stepped between them before Jessie could morph into her lady mud wrestler persona and knock Harry into the next condo.
“Did you know the neighbors referred to Bernice as the Wicked Witch?” Andi asked in her calmest teacher voice. “I’m sure you don’t want to be disliked the same way she was.”
“I don’t care what anyone thinks. The rules are the rules.” Harry’s voice took on a sinister tone. “The witch may be dead, but the wizard isn’t. Obey the rules, missy, or you’ll wish you never landed here.”
She suspected it wouldn’t matter if she followed the rules or not for as long as Jessie lived with her. Andi tightened her fists until her nails bit into her palms. Summoning her courage, she strode to the door and swung it open with flourish. The wooden panel brushed against her hip, causing her pen to fall from the pocket of her shorts and clatter against the tile floor. Bright-red ink flowed from the tube like an ominous warning.
At that moment, she once again heard the loud whine of the broken bathroom fan. “Andi!” Her father called out. “Got any matches? It’s murder in here.”
TWO
Luke pushed open the glass door to the public library located two miles down the street from the Euphoria Condominiums. The large number of disgruntled neighbors attending the monthly meetings made it impossible to gather in the neighborhood clubhouse.
A bright, painted jungle covered the library walls as far as Luke could see. Smirking monkeys swung from one tree to the next over slithering pythons while skulking tigers foraged for prey in the dense underbrush. The mural always reminded him to mentally prepare for the verbal attacks he would endure during the Euphoria Condominiums homeowners’ meetings. Angry homeowners, as well as the HOA board, liked to blame him whenever they didn’t get what they wanted. A sudden sense of relief flowed over him when he realized Bernice wouldn’t be yelling at him that night. And that made him feel guilty. He never wanted to benefit in any way from the death of another.
Luke marched through the lobby. He wished the library would invest in a metal detector. Over a dozen years ago, a man had shot five people at a homeowners’ association meeting not more than ten miles from where he stood. One woman died. Now Bernice. He knew he had to get the board to back down from its agenda of sending out one violation letter after another before another life was claimed.
He located the corridor leading to the meeting rooms and instantly recognized the man sipping water from the fountain. “Harry, we need to talk. I’m sure you’ve heard that the police believe Bernice was murdered because of her work on the board. You might want to rethink your stance on violation letters.”
“No one is going to shove me and a dollhouse off a balcony,” Harry scoffed.
Luke rubbed the back of his neck. Not once had Harry ever made his job easier. “Just hear me out. It’s time for a change. The board doesn’t have to be seen as bad guys. You don’t have to walk the community daily, looking for violations. It’s my job as your property manager to send out violation letters after my weekly visits. Board meetings should become a place where neighbors go for help. Now they see you as the enemy.”
“Now you hear me out,” Harry said, pointing his finger like a parent scolding a child. “I am not going to let those whiney neighbors run amok. Bernice’s murder does not change anything. The rules are the rules, and I’m here to enforce them.”
“Harry, it would be in your best interest to consider lightening up until the murderer is caught.”
“It would be in your best interest to remember we are your company’s biggest account. If you want to take over for the owner when he retires next year, you’d better make me happy,” Harry sneered. “You didn’t think I knew, did you? Mr. Greer told me all about his plans for you on his last visit to the property.”
“My first concern is for the safety of this community—yours included.”
“Yeah, right. Keep telling yourself that. One call from me and your fast-track career will shift into reverse.” Harry marched off, insuring he had the last word.
Luke knew he shouldn’t let the bad-tempered man get to him, but he couldn’t help but feel annoyed. Harry, and Bernice before him, got under everyone’s skin. That was why the Euphoria account had landed on his desk. Five other managers had refused to work with their board. By staying on, Luke had proved he would be the right man to take over when the company’s owner retired. He needed the promotion and the money that would come with it too much to quit now.
He shifted his briefcase into his other hand and turned to find Andi approaching. Her expression turned wary when she spotted him. He always knew there was a chance he might run into her again. He just never dreamed it would be under these circumstances.
He watched as she stepped closer. She hadn’t changed much over the years. Her silky auburn hair still reflected the light. And she still had a flawless, heart-shaped face. It was the smile that was missing. She used to beam whenever she saw him. Not tonight. Her grimace could not be confused with a smile by any stretch of the imagination.
“It’s nice to see you again, Andi.” He meant every word. For years after their breakup, he wondered what had happened to her. Was she teaching? Was she happy? Did she miss me?
He had missed her more than he had been willing to admit to anyone, but he didn’t regret his decision. Leaving her had been the right choice, no matter how much it hurt.
“Nice isn’t the word that just popped into my mind,” she stated with both hands planted on her rounded hips. “I still can’t believe you wrote me those horrible violation letters.”
“You mean letter. I wrote one letter.”
“I received two. I found another one tucked into the screen door this morning, but then you already knew that.”
“No, I didn’t.” Harry must have given her one without his knowledge. Whenever the man followed his own agenda, he would personally send out violation letters and then send Luke a copy for the files.
“Apparently, my father was supposed to move his car out of guest parking and into the driveway when my sister left for work yesterday. Why should he have to park in the driveway? He is a guest. Isn’t that what guest parking is for?” Her temper grew with each word.
Luke rubbed his temple, regretting the situation. She had no idea what a mistake she had made by moving to Euphoria. “I understand you’re angry, and I truly wish there was more I could do to help, but our company does not make the rules. We mainly handle the finances and paperwork for Euphoria.”
“I would think your time would be better spent convincing the board that it is unreasonable to expect residents to play musical cars every time someone leaves their condo.”
“As a matter of fact, I did have that discussion with them. As you can see, my advice was ignored.” A hint of irritation invaded his tone. He shifted his briefcase again. The weight of both its contents and their conversation had become a burden he wanted to leave behind. It wasn’t his fault Euphoria was anything but euphoric. “Andi, I can only give you the same advice I give other homeowners: if you don’t like the rules, do something to change them.”
“I might just do that.” Her brow furrowed with thoughts he wished he could read.
* * *
Andi watched Luke walk away with long, purposeful strides.
The back view is still almost as good as the front. Too bad. If he had gained three hundred pounds and lost a handful of teeth, maybe then my heart would stop pounding like a jackhammer every time he enters a room.
“Hi there!” The nurse from the murder scene said as she hurried over. She must have come straight from work. Today’s scrubs sported a powder-blue puppy print. “Find any more dead bodies?” Her warm, dimpled smile lightened the mood.
“I’m avoiding dumpsters.”
“I don’t blame you.” The new neighbor smiled and extended her hand. “I never got a chance to welcome you to Euphoria Lane. I’m Meg.” Her pastel pink nails matched her lipstick, and her short blonde curls bounced against her shoulders with each move. Either she drank caffeine nonstop, or she was one of those naturally peppy people who brightened your life or drove you crazy. “I’ve lived here for three years, thirty violation letters, and hundreds of dollars in fines. I’ve put in a lot of overtime to pay those off.”
Andi’s jaw dropped. “Thirty? Have you been breaking rules to prove a point?”
“I don’t break them on purpose, but there are so many restrictions it’s hard to get through the week without breaking at least one rule, especially with a teenage son. Have you seen the twenty-nine pool rules? You can’t play music loud enough for anyone else to hear. I guess you’re supposed to swim with an iPod.”
“You don’t look old enough to have a teenager.” She had to get the nurse’s beauty secret. I hope it doesn’t involve placenta.
“You and I are going to be great friends.” Meg said, squeezing Andi’s arm to prove her point. “Chad turned eighteen last fall. You met him when Bernice croaked. He’s the good-looking kid with the Mohawk.”
“The one walking the wall near the dumpster?”
Meg nodded in response, then her bubbly face grew serious. “I’m glad the witch is dead,” she whispered. “That woman had the nerve to film my son and his friends at the pool.”
“She filmed them?” Andi scowled. “Is that even legal?”
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