How Perfect You Are (Carlson College Mysteries Book 1)

by Isabel Fox

  From: morganc@carson.edu

  To: mastersa@carson.edu

  Any time! You did a good job writing it, so I think you’ll be pretty happy with your grade. Enjoy your break as well. I’ll be celebrating the fact that I’m not working the entire time for the first time in years :)

  I stuck my phone in the pocket of my jeans and gave the room a quick once over, looking for anything obvious I might have forgotten. Nothing leaped out, so I moved to my window and made sure it was securely locked. Then I went through the house to double check all of the other windows. Satisfied they were locked up tightly, I hefted my bag downstairs and curled up on the couch to wait for Amber and James to return. We had planned to leave around 6, so I had a few hours. I cracked open one of my favorite books, excited to have the time to read for leisure for once. I had only turned a few pages when my phone went off again.

  Hey Cassie, it’s Drew. So I was supposed to work Sunday but something’s come up and I’m not going to be able to come in. I know you said you were working over break but I couldn’t remember if you were already scheduled for Sunday or not. Any chance you could go in to help cover for me?

  I quickly sent my reply.

  Sorry, I would but I’m actually not working anymore. The Walkers gave me the weekend off so I’ll be out of town.

  There was no immediate reply, so I opened my book and returned to my reading. Almost twenty minutes went by before Drew replied again.

  That’s okay, just thought I’d ask. Fun plans?

  Just heading home with my roommate, nothing major. Hope you find someone to cover for you. Again, sorry!

  Once again, there was no immediate reply, so I wandered into the kitchen with my book to find something to eat. I poured myself a bowl of cereal and Willow a bowl of kibble.

  “I’ll miss you, you silly cat,” I cooed to her, running my hand lightly over the length of her exceptionally fluffy tail. A coworker of Amber’s was coming to feed her for us as Willow absolutely hated car rides. She would make truly awful yowling noises the entire time while clawing at her carrier at random intervals in an attempt to escape. This made her a less than ideal traveling companion.

  Amber had also pointed out that it would be good to have someone coming by to keep an eye on the house. Since our locks had been changed we’d given out copies of the keys to only our landlord, James, and Amber’s coworker. No hide-a-key in the yard or under the doormat for us. Hopefully this would mean we weren’t coming home to any surprises.

  I crunched through my cereal while Willow crunched her kibble. When I was finished I washed my bowl and reached out to set it on the drying rack. My still soapy fingers couldn’t keep a good grip on it, though, and the bowl slipped out of my grasp and fell to the floor with a thud and a shatter.

  Pieces of the bowl, small and large, exploded across the floor. Barefoot, I took a hesitant step back. Reaching for a thick dishcloth behind me, I tried to carefully sweep all the pieces up.

  While I was peering under the edge of the cabinets to see if I had missed any pieces there was a knock at the door. I stood up and made an awkward hop over the potential broken ceramic area. Looking towards the front door, I could see James in front of the window. I quickly unlocked the door.

  “Hi! You’re early,” I commented, stepping back to let him in.

  “My midterm didn’t take nearly as long as I had thought, though whether that’s a good or bad thing I’m not sure,” James said with a laugh.

  “I’m sure you did great,” I said, confident it was true. Though James wasn’t the type to mention it I knew from Amber that he was on track to finish his degree with highest honors. In addition, his paid position at the legal aid center was apparently highly coveted.

  “We’ll see,” James said dismissively. “Hey, is there any of that pasta from last night left over? I’m starved.” He headed in the direction of the kitchen.

  “I think so, but give me just a second. I dropped a bowl and I need to make sure I got all the pieces,” I explained. I quickly used the broom and dustpan to sweep up the shards of bowl and dumped them in a plastic grocery bag before tossing them in the trash can.

  “It’s such a shame. Amber and I have four good bowls left. I think when we moved in we had close to a dozen,” I said.

  “A dozen? Why? You guys don’t have that many friends,” James teased.

  “Oh, I know. But Eileen got really excited about my first place that wasn’t, you know, a dorm. She got me this really pretty dish set as a housewarming present. Unfortunately, she didn’t read any of the reviews. The dishes all look nice, but the haven’t held up at all. You can chip one by looking at it too hard, practically.”

  “Eileen sounds like a pretty cool lady. I’d like to meet her,” James said.

  “She is really cool. She’ll be home around Christmas, maybe you could meet her then.”

  “And is she your...sorry, never mind,” James broke off abruptly, looking sheepish.

  “No, it’s okay. Is she my what?” I asked, already sensing where this was going.

  “Eileen, is she your mom’s mother, or your dad’s?” James looked uncharacteristically awkward. I was used to people being somewhat uncomfortable asking about Eileen, though, worried there might be some tragic back-story that would upset me to have to explain.

  “My dad’s,” I replied, “and seriously, it’s okay. I don’t mind people asking. But, short version: Dad died of multiple sclerosis when I was really young. My mom couldn’t cope with raising me by herself and kind of had a midlife crisis. She now spends her time working as a magician’s assistant and occasional dancer in Las Vegas, because apparently that’s something she always wanted to do.”

  “Uh, wow. Do you ever talk to her?” James wanted to know.

  “Nah. She called every once in awhile when I was younger, and I did get a card from her when I graduated from high school. I think that was the last time I heard from her.”

  “Wow. That really sucks,” James shook his head sadly while eating cold pasta from the Tupperware.

  “Well, yeah. It does. But truly, Eileen was great to grow up with. And it’s been that way for so long that it seems pretty normal to me.”

  “I guess nobody’s family is perfect. We just make do with what we have,” James shrugged.

  “Well, not perfect, maybe, but your parents are pretty awesome,” I pointed out. “I know they bug Amber about majoring in art sometimes, but at the end of the day they’ve always sounded really supportive. Plus your mom always includes me on her random emails, which I appreciate.”

  “Yeah, they are pretty great. They work way too much, and I used to always wish they were around more, though. You know, when I was a kid. Now that I’m planning to practice law myself, though, I’m starting to realize that they did the best they could to balance family and careers. It’s not as easy as I once thought.”

  “What kind of law do you think you’re interested in?” I asked, hopping up and perching on the edge of the counter. James was leaning against the sink, and I was very aware that his arm was just inches from my knee.

  “Well, Dad does patent law, which is about as boring as law can be,” James said with a laugh. “I’m thinking I’ll head more in the direction of what Mom is doing these days, kind of a general law practice. Wills, real estate, trusts, that kind of thing. It’s not as exciting as being a DA, or a criminal defense attorney, or anything like that, but it also means I wouldn’t necessarily have to work ninety hours a week all the time. At least, that’s my hope.”

  “God, I don’t think I could handle hours like that,” I admitted. Just the thought of spending literally the majority of my waking hours with Susan was spine chilling.

  “You know,” James jumped in, “I don’t know that I’ve ever asked you what you plan to do, after you graduate, I mean. You’re an English major. Do you want to teach?”

  “No, no, no,” I said quickly, shaking my head. “I’ve considered it, but I think it’s going to be a hard pass for
me. The only age I would be remotely interested in teaching is high school, and I remember my own high school days far too well to get suckered into that. A lot of my classmates want to write, but I don’t know that that’s for me, either. I’ve written a few short stories for fun, but there’s not a lot of money in that. Not that money is everything, but I’ve got to eat. Journalism isn’t really my thing, either.”

  “Well, I don’t blame you about wanting to teach high school. I would imagine that you have to really have a calling for it,” James mused.

  “And I definitely don’t. No, honestly, I’ve kind of been thinking about talking to the Walkers, the ones that own the inn, about me working there full time. My friend Amanda is like an assistant manager there, and I’m hoping I could get a position like that too. I know the job well. I feel a twisted sense of duty to the place. I also think I’m only a few years away from winning Susan over. It seems like a shame to quit before that happens,” I laughed. James, however, was nodded enthusiastically.

  “I could see that. You’re so organized and on top of things. Friendly and professional. Seems like it would be a good fit for you,” he pointed out. I was torn between being flattered and being concerned that he had referred to me as professional. While not exactly an insult, it wasn’t the sort of compliment a girl hoped for from a guy with whom she was going on a date.

  “Well, thanks,” I finally said, hopping down off the counter. “I’m going to start throwing Amber’s stuff in a bag,” I added, glancing at the clock. “She’s late, and we probably don’t want to leave much later than we planned.”

  “Good idea,” James agreed. “I’ll go ahead and take your stuff out to the car, if you want.” He followed me into the living room where we both reached for my bag at the same time, our hands grazing. Blushing, I let go of the handle.

  “Thanks,” I said, hoping he didn’t notice my pink cheeks. James reached out and put a hand on my upper arm, giving it a friendly squeeze.

  “Any time,” he replied softly before turning and heading outside, leaving me standing dopily in the middle of the room.

  19

  By the time we made it to the Davis house it was nearly midnight. We were all going a little stir crazy and I was relieved to be able to get out and stretch my legs.

  “Oh, thank god,” Amber exclaimed as she threw open the passenger door and unfurled her long legs. “I was starting to think I might die in this car.”

  “Speak for yourself! I almost had a nervous breakdown trying to keep us from dying at the hands of idiotic truck drivers,” James retorted.

  It was true that the highway had been filled with an alarming number of people who more than likely should have never been granted driving privileges. One close call with an semi truck driver who was seemingly unaware of his surroundings had been particularly stressful. James had handled it like a pro, though I had noticed from my spot in the back seat that he had been gripping the wheel so tightly his knuckles had gone white.

  I slid out of the SUV as well, stretching my arms and legs luxuriously. Though it was late, the driveway was lit by evenly spaced lanterns running the length of it. The large, brick colonial house was also lit by distinguished looking sconces on either side of the massive oak door. A positively ancient looking maple tree towered in the front yard, which was bordered by neatly tended hedges.

  “I love this house,” I breathed, and Amber gave me a gentle shoulder knock.

  “Quit mooning and grab your stuff,” she instructed, already moving to the back of the SUV. She, James, and I all grabbed our things and headed towards the front door. We had only made it halfway up the walk when the door flung open and Mrs. Davis practically squealed with excitement.

  “John, they’re here!” she called over her shoulder. In one hand she held a massive wine glass filled almost to the brim with dark red wine. The other hand reached out to pull James, then Amber, into tight hugs. Amber leaned far away from the wine glass, the contents of which were sloshing precariously close to the rim.

  As soon as Amber had stepped back, Mrs. Davis turned to me. She somehow looked both pleased and sad at the same time.

  “Cassie, Cassie, Cassie,” she said, shaking her head. “You look unwell, my dear.”

  “Gee, that’s real nice of you, mom,” Amber snorted derisively.

  “Oh, I’m sorry!” Mrs. Davis said, realizing her blunder and throwing her arm around me. “I didn’t mean to say you look bad, Cassie. I just meant you look very tired.”

  “It’s okay. I am tired,” I confessed, shrugging. Even some careful concealer application hadn’t been enough to hide the dark circles under my eyes that day.

  “Well, of course you are! Amber’s told me all about your ordeal. I just can’t imagine how awful it must be. But you’re here now, and we’ll make sure you get some rest. Why don’t you kids come in, have a bite to eat?” Mrs. Davis ushered us inside through the marble foyer and into the living room. Mr. Davis was asleep in a chair near one of the floor to ceiling windows.

  “John! Wake up!” Mrs. Davis shouted over her shoulder as she disappeared down the hall.

  “Jeez, Mom’s kind of crazy tonight, isn’t she?” James chuckled.

  “She’s just excited. It’s been ages since we’ve both been home at the same time. Easter, I think?” Amber pointed out. She glanced over at the still sleeping Mr. Davis before dropping her bag unceremoniously to the floor.

  “Come on, I think I smell Chinese. I’m starved,” she said to me. We followed Mrs. Davis down the hallway and, sure enough, saw the massive kitchen island absolutely covered in what appeared to be every offering on a Chinese menu.

  “Wontons, pork fried rice, orange chicken, General Tso chicken, some kind of pork roll I think, and look! Fortune cookies!” Mrs. Davis pointed out gleefully. She was clearly a few glasses of wine in at that point. While I had always thought of her as friendly, I didn’t think I’d ever seen her quite this giddy. Amber and I exchanged smirks.

  Unsure where to start, I heaped a little of everything onto a plate before settling at one of the bar stools around the island. Amber did the same, though her plate indicated a strong preference for orange chicken.

  Mrs. Davis pressed a massive glass of wine into my hands as I sat down, and she leaned on the counter as Amber and I started to eat. She asked tons of questions about how the semester had gone so far, how work was, how Jenna and Brooklyn were, whether Amber had decided to change her major, and what our plans for the weekend were. She pointedly made an effort to not ask about my one person fan club, and for that I was grateful.

  Amber seemed slightly irritated by the questions, especially those pertaining to her major, but food and wine went a long way towards mellowing her out. By the time James came into the kitchen, the three of us were laughing at a story about a client of Mrs. Davis’s.

  “And then he asked if he could sue for custody of the vacuum cleaner,” Mrs. Davis went on, tears of laughter in her eyes. “He said he’d been the one to buy it and he should get to have it at least twice a week.”

  “I’m not even going to ask,” James threw his hands up and helped himself to some General Tso’s.

  “Yeah, are you sure this is the kind of law your interested in?” I asked him. “It sounds awfully...weird.”

  “Never a dull moment, I’ll tell you that much,” Mrs. Davis replied. She finished the rest of her wine in one long slug. “Kids, I’m off to bed. I clearly can’t keep up with this late night college lifestyle you all have been leading. I’ll see you all tomorrow evening.” Giving each of us a hug, she popped a final piece of orange chicken into her mouth and left.

  “Cassie, I put your stuff in the guest room, at the end of the hall upstairs,” James told me.

  “Okay, thanks,” I answered.

  “Amber, your stuff is out in the garage with Uncle Patrick,” James continued. Amber whacked him with a dishcloth.

  “Kidding! I’m kidding,” James held an arm in front of him to fend off the attack.

>   “Wait, do you actually have a crazy uncle in the garage? I thought that was a joke!” I asked.

  “Yeah, dad’s older brother. He used to be a banker, but he kind of went off the deep end. Now he lives in the apartment over the garage and spends his time smoking and making pop art out of beer cans,” Amber explained with a shrug. “We probably won’t see him at all while we’re here, he’s not exactly social. But he does exist.”

  “Oh. Okay. Interesting,” I said, not entirely sure how to respond.

  “So what are we doing tomorrow? Have anything in mind?” Amber topped off both our wine glasses.

  “Um, whatever. I’m cool with anything you want to do,” I said.

  “I really want to go see a movie, maybe that new one with what’s his name, that actor I like? It’s set in space?” Amber snapped her fingers while trying to remember.

  “Vortex?” I supplied.

  “Yeah! Let’s go see it. Afterwards we can get lunch and do some shopping. I want to go the art supply store in town, the one in Carlson has nothing lately,” Amber sighed dramatically. “You coming with us, big brother?”

  James looked up from his phone. “To the movie? Probably not. I’m supposed to catch up with some buddies from high school. I think we’re doing lunch tomorrow. Thanks, though.”

  I was disappointed James wouldn’t be joining us, and only the promise of dinner with him kept me from being too glum. I listened to Amber and James discussing people from their high school for awhile, my eyes growing heavier by the minute. I finally let out a long yawn.

  “Cassie, go to bed,” Amber instructed.

  “I’m okay,” I said, though I yawned again before I could stop myself.

  “Seriously, go. You’ll be no fun if you’re half asleep tomorrow,” Amber pointed out. Nodding in agreement, I bid Amber and James a good night and headed towards the guest room.

  The foyer and staircase were dark, with only a small bit of the light from the kitchen spilling down the hall. I climbed the stairs carefully, noting how much darker it seemed upstairs. The only light seemed to come from the small window at the end of the hall. The guest room, I remembered from previous visits, was just to the left of that window.