Another Hour to Kill

by Anita Higman

  We all turned our attention back to the alligator, whose mouth had opened in a scary, ready to eat mode. The little cat seemed oblivious to the danger very near it.

  “Shoo, kitty. Shoo,” Dedra yelled.

  The cat paid no attention to her as it crept over to the alligator’s tail and then batted at it as if it were a toy.

  The gator’s eyes blazed with anger.

  I held my breath, knowing the giant beast wasn’t about to put up with such audacious behavior from such a small animal. Then with little warning, the alligator swung around, its chompers clamping down just an inch from the cat.

  Dedra screamed.

  “Mercy!” Magnolia’s hand slapped her chest.

  As the jaws of the reptile appeared to be in a lock-down mode, the kitty scampered away out of danger.

  Magnolia and Dedra let out whoops of relief.

  I thought of what might have happened to Dedra had she gotten too close to those sharp teeth. I shivered.

  Max slipped his arm around me and squeezed.

  “Well, if you’ve got everything under control. . .” Dedra looked at her watch. “Ozzie is coming over in a few minutes. Mind if I take off?”

  I waved her on. “No, that’s fine.”

  We all said our goodbyes as Dedra bolted toward her house.

  After ten more minutes of waiting, Magnolia looked at her watch. “I’ve got to get back to the house. Those pies are gonna burn in the oven if I don’t see to them. Do you two mind waiting for the warden?”

  “No problem,” Max said.

  I waved her on. “I’ll be the one they’ll need to talk to anyway, since he’s on my lawn.”

  “True.” Magnolia narrowed her eyes. “Now don’t either one of you try doing anything daring or sympathetic. That gator will eat you while you’re still having cozy feelings about him.”

  “No heroics.” I held up my hands. “I can assure you of that.”

  Max just smiled.

  “All right,” Magnolia said, looking us over for hints of defiance. “By the way.” She suddenly broke out in grins. “One of those pies I’m baking is for our new neighbor, Vlad Tepes. Have you met him, Bailey?”

  “No, I haven’t.” It appeared everyone had met the man but me. And that name again—so vaguely familiar?

  “Oh, he’s such a generous man,” Magnolia said. “I just happened to mention the need at our women’s shelter, so he donated three thousand dollars. Can you imagine? And I barely know him. What a sweet man. Sure hope nothing bad happens to him in that house.” She pursed her lips and lowered her head.

  Magnolia was obviously remembering the day we’d found his stepbrother’s body. After a moment of silence, she brightened again. “Oh, but the women in this neighborhood will have to watch themselves. That Vlad is a young and handsome rogue. He looks like he should be carved out of marble and standing in a museum. Mm, mm, mm.”

  “Thanks for sharing,” Max said.

  “Oh, now, you don’t have anything to worry about.” Magnolia shook her head, smiling. “But he is a handsome rascal.” She was still carrying on about Vlad as she sashayed across the street.

  Once Magnolia had made it back to her lawn, Max stared at me. “Well, I guess it’s just you and me.”

  “Do you mind waiting with me?” I chuckled. “In the middle of the street?” I hoped Max didn’t have pies in the oven too.

  “Are you kidding?” He motioned toward the gator. “There’s no way I’m leaving you out here with that thing.”

  “Good.” I didn’t want to be alone with Godzilla. I raised my chin. “By the way, if I get too close to the alligator, do you think you could throw me over your shoulder too?”

  “I think that could be arranged.” His voice took on tones sultry enough for a romance novel.

  Guess my experiment with flirtation worked. As if right on cue, a gust blew a few wisps of my hair up in the air and across my cheek.

  Max moved the strands away from my face. “I’ll also keep an eye on that scoundrel who’ll be living next door to you.”

  I chuckled. “I wish you didn’t have to show houses tonight.”

  “Me too. But when this last house sells, that’s it, Bailey.”

  “Are you sure about quitting?” I studied Max’s expression, looking for even a hint of regret. “I was a terrible Realtor. But you’re actually good at it. People like you.” I looked up into his handsome face and smiled. Max definitely brought out the best in me.

  He cocked his head. “You’re not having second thoughts about us refurbishing old homes together, are you?”

  I latched onto his arms. “Never. After we’re married, I can’t think of anything I’d rather do more. Well. . .” Heat rushed through my face, and Max chuckled.

  I grinned and then glanced over at the gator, just to make certain he wasn’t sneaking up on us or getting away. He looked mesmerized by the swirling air or the sun or something. Who could know the mind of an alligator? But whatever it was, he stayed perfectly still.

  In the midst of our little melodrama, Max pulled me into a hug. Just as he was about to plant a kiss on my lips, I heard a distinct clearing of the throat. I eased away and looked downward. A girl on a scooter stared up at us, looking like she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

  Max turned to the girl. “Hi there.”

  “Hallow.” The girl tipped her wide brim straw hat at us and pointed to the gator. “I see you have a crocodilio.” She laughed. “That’s what I call them. Alligators are pretty common down here. It won’t be too mean unless it’s a female with young nearby. Or if she’s hungry. But she’s probably just trying to find her way home.”

  I tried to control my blinking at the self-assurance of this girl. She had a long braid of dark gold hair draped over her dress, a Star of David around her neck, and truly, the most piercing hazel eyes I’d ever seen. “I like your necklace,” I said.

  “Thanks.” She fingered the pewter emblem. “I’m a Messianic Jew, and my name’s Joby Goldstein.”

  Max reached out his hand to her. “It’s good to meet you, Joby.”

  After a thorough round of introductions, silence fell among us as we three watched the alligator watch the three of us.

  Joby set her scooter down on the pavement and said, “Must be murder.”

  “What did you say?” I wondered how she could have read my mind since I was once again thinking of B.J. Ware.

  “I said it must be murder. You know, to have an alligator keeping you out here. You sure can’t go back inside. If the alligator eats somebody, you’ll get sued.”

  Who is this kid?

  “The Parks and Wildlife people are coming to move the alligator,” Max said.

  “That’s good.” Joby tossed her braid over her shoulder. “Houston has had a lot of weird animal activity lately.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Max said. “Like what?” He seemed interested as well as amused.

  “At school, I read on the Internet that vampire bats have been seen in this area.” Joby’s eyes became round and pale like twin moons under her hat. That’s sooo creepy, isn’t it?” She splashed her foot in a water puddle.

  “You’re right.” I nodded at Joby. “It is creepy.”

  “Is that your house?” She pointed at Volstead Manor as she puffed out her cheeks.

  “Yep, that’s it.”

  “Your home’s got those pointy windows. Gothic.” Joby put her hands on her hips. “I read about them on the Internet. And that tall thing at the top. Reminds me of a tower on a castle where the damsel stays. You know, the one who’s always in distress. Ohhh.” She pressed the back of her hand over her forehead in mock tragedy.

  Max and I chuckled.

  Joby continued to stare at Volstead Manor. “You know, you could rent your house out at Halloween and make a load of cash.” She looked at me. “So, do you get creeped out at night all by yourself?”

  “Well, I used to.” What a cute kid. But she sure has a lot of questions.

&nb
sp; “Bailey is one indomitable woman,” Max said.

  Joby pursed her lips. “I don’t really know what that means.”

  He smiled at Joby. “It means Bailey can take on just about anything.”

  I stared in wonder at the sight of my fiancé while he turned his attention back to our green-eyed lizard.

  Joby adjusted her hat. “Even though it’s all Goth and everything, I could see myself living in your house, Miss Walker.”

  “Where do you live?” I asked Joby, redirecting the conversation from something that was beginning to feel uncomfortable.

  Joby’s shoulders wilted. “I don’t have a real home. Right now I’m staying with my foster keepers down the street. But they’re just feeding me and making sure I don’t kill myself.”

  Max’s eyes filled with concern.

  I wanted to place my hand on her shoulder, but she didn’t look too approachable at the moment. I knew so little about kids, especially ones who’d been neglected, I hardly knew what to say. Or do. “I’m so sorry. I wish—”

  “A lot of people feel real sorry for me, but it never changes anything.” Her words and smile appeared awfully discerning and melancholy for so young a face. She suddenly pointed to B.J.’s house. “I had a dream about this place a few months ago.”

  “Really?” Some part of me was relieved she’d moved onto another topic, and yet another part of me was troubled for this girl.

  Max looked away from the now dozing alligator and gave Joby his full attention. “So, what was your dream about?”

  Joby frowned. “I dreamed that the man who lived there. . .would die.”

  6 – A Perfect Pearl of Blood

  I tried to calm the boom-banging of my heart. Did I miss something? “Joby, what did you say?”

  She looked up at me. “I dreamed the man who lived in that house would die. And then he did.”

  Her matter-of-fact manner made me shiver. My hand went to my throat. “Why do you think you’d dream something like that?”

  Joby paused, chewing on her bottom lip, and then said, “I think ’cause Mr. B.J. didn’t like kids.”

  Max squatted down next to Joby. “Do you mind explaining that a little?”

  “Well, I knocked on his door the day he moved in. I thought maybe he’d have some kids for me to play with. I didn’t do anything, and suddenly he yelled at me. He told me to get off his porch or he’d yank on my braid until I screamed.”

  “Oh, really.” Max rose. “I hope you’re not embellishing the truth.”

  “I don’t know what embellishing means, but that’s what happened.” Joby’s expression darkened. “But you don’t have to worry. I won’t let anybody hurt me.”

  I couldn’t help but wonder who’d threatened Joby in the past for her reaction to be so passionate.

  Max rubbed his chin and looked at me.

  I shook my head, not knowing what to think. Was she exaggerating? I had no idea. I decided to let it go for the moment.

  I looked back over at the sleeping giant on my lawn. I wondered if he’d died. No, that would be too easy. The lids over his protruding eyes flew open as if he could read my mind. Suddenly the beast moved a few inches, so I knew he’d only pretended to be asleep. He was waiting for us not to be paying attention. We all backed up. The gator did nothing more, so my muscles relaxed again. I could only hope the Parks and Wildlife people would come quickly.

  “Do you want to know something else?” Joby asked me.

  “Sure,” I blurted without thought. Another look in her mercurial eyes made me think better of my response.

  “I’ve been shopping for a mother for a long time now.” She fingered her necklace.

  “Oh?” I held my breath, suddenly feeling fascinated and scared all at the same time.

  A slow grin eased across Max’s face.

  Joby walked over to me. She paused, took hold of my hand, and squeezed. “And you know what I think?”

  “What?” I said, trying to control the quiver in my voice.

  Joby offered a rather loaded pause and then said, “I think you’ll do just fine.”

  One hour later two game wardens from Texas Parks and Wildlife had caught, loaded, and driven off in their pickup truck with my private green ogre. After I watched the sunset with Max, I shut my heavy door and let out an impressive groan, which ricocheted off my empty walls.

  My Gothic dwelling welcomed me. All was still bare, except for folding chairs, tables, a big soft chair in the kitchen, and a few items people had given me so I could manage until I had time to search for the right furnishings. In spite of the emptiness, I was proud to call it home.

  I stared down at the binoculars around my neck. We’d been so distracted I’d forgotten to return them to Magnolia. Easing down onto a hard folding chair in my living room, the unforgiving metal seemed to grind into my tired bones.

  I looked over at the fireplace. The stone gargoyles, which held up the mantle, and which always looked like they had unresolved flatulence issues, simply glared at me. I drummed my fingers on my leg. They must wonder too, if the terror I’d known only weeks ago when I’d arrived, had begun again.

  My gaze rose to the top of the fireplace as the grisly events rushed back to my mind’s eye—the impaled butterfly and the bizarrely choreographed fire ants, all arranged to frighten me into putting my home up for sale. I shook my head and glanced back at the bottom of the staircase in the entry. And would I ever be able to forget the sight of my welcoming present—that dead rat inside a box at the foot of the stairs?

  I shivered as my stomach went sour. All was well, my mind promised. The guilty have been caught. They’re gone. They are totally gone, my chant soothed. I’m safe. All is well. “Maybe I could repeat that to myself about a thousand times,” I said to the gargoyles. Their beady eyes held no pity.

  I tossed my mail on the sorry excuse I had for a coffee table and noticed a flyer on top of the pile, which advertised the ideal bat house. Just what I need—to invite more wild game into my home.

  Then there was that Joby girl who showed up. What a unique specimen. Why did kids get so attached to me anyway? I didn’t even know if I was fond of kids. Maybe it was like dogs attacking when they smelled panic on a human. I was certain kids could smell the fear on me. And then to have Joby want me to be her mom! My goodness, that was pretty random. But beyond my feelings of awkwardness around Joby, I wondered if she’d be all right. Did her foster parents treat her well?

  Thunder rumbled around the house, escalating to a window-rattling boom. Then a crisp knock came from my front door, making me do one of those internal cringes. Who knocks anymore, especially after the installation of my Westminster Abbey doorbell? Certainly not my neighbors. Must be somebody new, somebody selling something—or worse. I strode over to the peephole.

  The person on the other side was a stranger, but certainly a very handsome one. Since Magnolia had mentioned my new next-door neighbor’s spectacular looks, I assumed the stranger was Vlad. I opened the door, but only a crack since I didn’t know if I was going to invite him in.

  “Good evening,” the man said in an Alfred Hitchcock manner.

  Oh, my. “Hi.”

  “I hope I’m not intruding.” The man splayed his fingers over his chest. “I came over from next door to introduce myself.” His voice sauntered out of his mouth, smooth and confident, and with a hint of a British accent.

  Was this guy for real? “No. You’re not intruding. I was just busy. . .sitting.” Boy, he must think I’m boring. Well, come to think of it, I am boring. I opened the door a bit more.

  “I’ve found lounging can be so refreshing.” Vlad sniffed.

  “Yes, especially if you’re sitting down.” Okay, that had to be the dumbest thing that has ever come out of my mouth.

  Instead of laughing at me, Vlad lifted his finger to his cheek, which wasn’t tanned from the sun like Max’s. In fact, I wondered if my neighbor carried a parasol since his skin seemed so pale. When he smiled, only one side of his l
ips went up, giving him a simper. That must have been the look that smote Magnolia. Well, that and his three thousand dollar donation to the women’s shelter.

  I just kept nodding for some reason. My quick survey revealed that my neighbor appeared too airbrushed for his own good with his full lips, five-o-clock shadow, and long glossy hair—silkier than mine I might add. And it curled so naturally—the same natural way that would have taken me hours with a curling iron. And then there was that one loose strand hanging almost over his eyes. No man should be that attractive. It wasn’t fair to tempt women as well as be the envy of all men.

  “I’m sorry for staring just now.” He shook his head, making that loose strand fall forward a little more. “It’s just that one doesn’t often come across such a handsome woman.”

  Okay, so what does this guy want? And why does he talk like he stepped out of a Victorian novel?

  “Please excuse me for not introducing myself. I’m your new next-door neighbor, Vlad Tepes.”

  “I’m Bailey Walker.” I held out my hand to him.

  Instead of shaking my hand, he whipped out a crimson rose from behind his back and handed it to me.

  “Thank you. The color is so. . .red.” I took a sniff. The flower’s blousy petals smelled better than French perfume and felt softer than a duck’s undergarments. Get a hold of yourself. It’s only a rose.

  “Red is the color of life.” He touched the red rose that was pinned to the lapel of his black jacket.

  Boy, was this guy into roses, or what? But it was strange too, since his combo of red on black combined with his pallid complexion made him look like he’d indulged in the beauty treatments of an undertaker.

  The air churned, ruffling Vlad’s jacket. He glanced behind him. “The wind. . .it sounds restless. Doesn’t it?”

  I looked outside. The Mexican feather grass near my porch dipped and swayed in the gusts like strands of hair. “As I’m sure you know, Houston isn’t a very windy place. . .unless there’s a storm coming.”

  “I like a good storm. They’re heady and unpredictable.” Vlad gazed at me. “O Wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn’s being, Thou from whose unseen presence the leaves dead are driven like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing. Shelley.”