Lethal flip, p.11
Lethal Flip, page 11
“Sounds logical.” He lowered the cup.
“A plumber would have access to all kinds of rats,” I submitted.
“Okay. Where is this going?” He was abrupt.
“My plumber, Randy. Maybe you should question him about the rodent?”
He shook his head. “You think your plumber left you a rat? Why?”
“I’m not sure.” I sipped my coffee. “He said his father and Sarah got married when they lived in Arizona. That her body was discovered in the bedroom. Fernando says it was the kitchen.”
“How would Randy know?” he asked.
“Maybe someone leaked information from the investigation? Could be a distraction from what really happened?”
“Point investigators in another direction to avoid the truth?” he asked. “Anything is possible.”
We made small talk until nearly one o’clock. Don sat back, chaste, “I’ll give Olivia a little more time.”
“Of course! But I should go. I must paint the bathroom before Eddy comes later to help hang the mirror.” I was pushing the recommended time for letting paint dry by installing the mirror so quickly. But I could touch up any dings, and I was eager to get it done.
“Eddy’s helping you?”
“It’s his payment for letting him sleep over.” He raised his eyebrows.
“In the spare room. He drank a couple of beers and didn’t want to drive.” Yep. I was covering for Eddy, again. He tilted his head and frowned as I yammered.
“Never mind,” I said, frustrated, and stood up.
Don’s eyes twinkled, and he said, “Thank you for coming. I’ll wrangle a meeting with Olivia for another time.”
I left Don at the grill. He’d have to satisfy his questions about Olivia with a DNA search. My stomach churned considering I might be the reason for Olivia’s no-show. Maybe she remembered the glass of water I tossed in his lap. What was that saying about karma?
Chapter 15
I motored back to Warbler Street.
Myra called while I was taping off the bathroom. “How did it go with Don’s daughter?” she asked.
“It didn’t. She was a no show.”
“Really?” She sounded puzzled.
“Yep.”
“That’s not good.”
“It’s not the best,” I agreed. “He says he’ll do a DNA match.”
“Oh, dear. Well, I won’t keep you long. When did you want to do the cleansing?” Burning sage was a Native American ritual I’d discovered when I found a dead body at my first flip. I’ve burned the herb in every project since. There was always a reason for the space to be refreshed, and we were becoming old hands at purging spaces. It gave us a reason for wine too. It had been gratifying to see that Bernie used sage in his rituals, as well.
“Does this evening work? I’m expecting Eddy over to hang the new bathroom mirror? We could celebrate finishing the bathroom and cleanse the kitchen from my deceased rat.”
“What did the exterminator say?”
“No infestation here. Someone left the rat.”
“Oh my. As a warning?” She gasped.
“Don’t know,” I said, grimly. “How does five o’clock work? It’ll be a welcome diversion.”
“Perfect.”
I wrapped up painting the bath and placed a fan to speed the drying time. I had a few minutes to spare and cleaned the kitchen and living room before Eddy rang the doorbell at five o’clock. Myra stood beside him, clutching a tote bag filled with sage and candles. He carried Myra’s picnic basket loaded with cheese, crackers, wine, and fruit and brought it up to the living room where we dug in.
Myra retrieved crystal stemware from the wicker carrier and poured a glass of wine for each of us.
“Thanks.” I nodded. “I appreciate this.”
“Yeah. This is boss.” Eddy held up his glass, grinning.
“No problem.” She brought out a plate for the sage and lit a small bundle. The smoke curled around the offending area in the kitchen and we crossed ourselves.
“Let this be a place of serenity for Katelyn and any bad karma expelled,” Myra stated the intention. When the ritual was completed, we raised our glasses in a toast and clicked the crystal, appreciating the clear, simple tone.
“Gee, you’re becoming a pro at this.” I chuckled.
“I learned from the best,” she said in a carefully modulated tone, and smiled.
“Awesome!” Eddy chortled and finished his wine with gusto.
“Let’s get the mirror hung,” I reminded him, as he helped himself to more food. “After your snack.”
“What can I do?” Myra asked.
“You’ve done so much already. Thank you.”
The day had become dark.
“It looks like there’s a storm brewing.” Myra stood at the picture window, observing the sky. A clap of distant thunder sounded, and a light splatter of raindrops hit the glass.
Eddy picked up one end of the new mirror and we carried it to the bathroom to hang, while Myra packed up the basket. “It’s pitch-black. The storm is headed this way,” she said. “I should go. Katelyn, are you okay working with Eddy? You’re sure you don’t need me?”
“Go ahead.” I rested my end of the glass on the vanity and hugged her before she took off. Myra was not a hugger, but accepted my gesture stiffly. There was a crack of thunder.
“Are you sure you don’t want to wait it out?” I asked.
“I’ll be fine,” she assured me. “The rain is light. But while there’s a lull, I’d better go.” Eddy and I watched from the entry as she hurried to her SUV, her jacket hood protecting her hair from droplets.
We positioned the mirror on the wall and stood back, admiring the freshly hung, framed glass. I was pleased we’d hung it without a scratch to the fresh paint. Standing side by side with Eddy reminded me of the time we were young newlyweds and making a home together, and I felt a wisp of nostalgia.
“Thanks, Eddy. It looks wonderful.” I gave him a satisfied grin. “But it’s best for you to go before the storm gets too bad.”
“Yep. Face the music.” He grabbed his jean jacket, buttoning up with a fleeting air of resignation.
“Lola?”
“Yep. She wants to talk. I told her I’d call later.”
“Uh huh. Good luck with that.” “Later” with Eddy could mean anything. He threw his arms around me in a bear hug and grabbed another snack for the road. “This has been great. The mirror looks awesome!” His eyes sparkled, and his long lashes fluttered. He waved the cracker and ambled out.
I made one last tour of our work in the bathroom and gazed at the kitchen counter where the rodent had been. I was satisfied we’d cleared any bad karma. The rain started up again, and I hustled, gathering my bag and locking up. I ran to my car, getting drenched.
I breezed inside my townhome, dropped my messenger bag, and slipped off my jacket to hang in the shower to dry. Boots jumped off the sofa and circled my legs, looking for comforting strokes and chow. I fed him and changed into dry sweats. The storm had gained strength and there was a steady torrent of water pounding the house.
I hurried to the kitchen sliding door and drew the blinds that opened to the patio.
“Quite a storm, huh, Boots?”
I stood at the window and watched the torrential rain slamming the stone pavers. With Wayne and Gillie still in Vegas, and the fourth unit vacant, I was keenly aware of being alone on the dark night. The sky was the inkiest I’d ever seen, with a deep purple hue and heavy rain. I flipped on the patio light. Rain had turned to hail, and the ground was fast covered with white pellets. I closed the blinds to muffle the sound of hail pelting the window.
Kaboom! Another crack of thunder rumbled and lightning flashed behind the closed blinds.
Rap, rap, rap!
“Hey, it’s me!” a voice yelled from the hall. I dashed to the door, and opened up to a drenched Eddy.
“What are you doing here?” I exclaimed.
He wore a hangdog expression; his dark hair was wet. Rain trickled from his jacket. His pants and shoes were soaked.
“My truck broke down. The street flooded, and I gunned the engine. The truck stalled. I couldn’t get the dang thing started again. Your place was closer than mine. Besides, Lola isn’t there. Remember, we’re taking a break?”
“OMG.” I inhaled. “You can wear my robe while your clothes dry.” I dashed to my bedroom closet and took out an oversized, white terry-cloth robe and a towel, and marshaled him to the bathroom.
“I’ll check on Myra.” I ran to the phone and dialed. When she answered, I breathed a sigh of relief. “You’re home!”
“Yes. I just made it. It’s a nightmare out there!”
“I’m glad you’re safe! Eddy walked here in the downpour. His truck stalled in the flooded streets and he couldn’t get started again.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Yes. I’m home. Thanks for calling.”
“You stay safe.” I hung up. Opening the patio blinds, I resumed my vigil at the window. “OMG!” I watched the hail accumulate. There were three to four inches of pellets outside the window.
With the collar of the fluffy robe up, and wet hair glistening, Eddy joined in watching the angry storm.
“Gosh.” He gave a low whistle. “I ain’t never seen it this bad. There’s going to be a lot of damage from this storm.”
“Yeah.” My stomach churned, thinking of the rehab on Warbler Street. The siding was vinyl, which was low maintenance, but not immune to hail damage. The Bluebird house had wood siding, more durable, but would likely need paint after this. Roof shingles would be pommeled, too.
The storm raged for another half hour.
We waited it out, hypnotized by flashes of light, fierce winds, and the mound of white pellets on the patio floor. Finally, the wind died down, and the rain and hail quit, leaving an eerie quiet.
“I should check out the houses,” I said.
“Wait ‘til morning. Not much you can do now.”
I considered his advice. Part of me wanted to fix things, ASAP. He was right, though; the insurance people would wait until tomorrow. Maybe I’d get lucky and the damage wouldn’t be as bad as I imagined.
“So, the spare room again, Eddy?”
“Thanks, babe.”
Babe? Maybe I could get used to the term of endearment?
Chapter 16
The next day the sun melted the mounds of hail. Street flooding receded, manholes were cleared, and travel was safe. I drove Eddy to his truck. He cranked the engine a few times, and the vehicle started. He gave a thumbs up and drove away.
Weather gurus pegged the April storm as the worst in twenty years. Many homes in the area had pitted vinyl exteriors, which gave them the dismal look of a neighborhood that might have been ravaged by gun fire. The damage was bad, although it could have been worse.
After talking to the insurance adjuster, the Warbler renovation, which I thought would be a cream puff project, needed a new roof. With a stroke from Mother Nature, one side of the vinyl siding now needed replacing. Finding a contractor and matching the material would be the biggest challenge, and would mean a serious delay in listing the house.
The roof on the Bluebird house was damaged, and the siding needed paint. So, two insurance claims. Eddy hadn’t made any noises about moving out, and his relationship with Lola hadn’t affected our rent-to-own agreement. I avoided the subject. I didn’t want to think about putting the rental house on the market, too. I had to focus on finishing the renovation.
The luminol arrived. It was a wonder the delivery trucks maintained their schedules during the worst storm in the last two decades. I opened the box with the kit and mixed the spray.
I took the carpet snippets from Fernando’s bedroom and spread them on a piece of paper in my bathroom. I sprayed them with the solution and flipped off the lights to see if the fibers would glow, meaning the stain was blood. Nothing. No glow, no reaction. I tried it a second time with the same results. I was relieved that it wasn’t blood. Sarah hadn’t bled in the bedroom. He was telling the truth. She must have bled in the kitchen where he’d found her.
I worked feverishly at the rehab, chastened by my glow-in-the-dark experiment, and mortified that I’d suspected Fernando of anything untoward. Randy was wrong. I doubled down on deep cleaning.
A week later, Fernando rang the doorbell.
I answered with wild hair and smudges on my face, wearing my grungiest clothes. He smiled. “You are working hard, yes?”
“I am.” I gazed over his shoulder at his house. “Did you have a lot of damage?”
“It is minor. The roof, some painting.” He shrugged. “I was lucky.” His brown eyes were soft, but puffiness under his eyes gave him a worn appearance.
“Everyone’s roofs were damaged. I have to replace the roof and one side of vinyl. It’ll be several weeks. Would you like to see the mirror?” I asked.
“Yes. Very much.”
I showed him to the main floor bath. The new mirror updated the space and made the room stylish.
“It is an excellent choice. I am happy for such an unfortunate accident.”
“It is nice. Thank you for replacing the broken one.”
“You are welcome. I came to ask if there is something I might help you with, because of the storm damage?”
“Thank you. That’s kind of you, but there isn’t anything. How are you?”
“I am well.”
“Good.”
He walked to the exit, paused in the foyer, and commented, “Your dumpster is gone.”
“Yes, it is.” I nodded. “I had torn out the carpet from the lower level and filled it. Now it’s a matter of finishing the cleanup, painting, and new flooring.”
“Yes. Fresh carpet is nice. Fast Floors, a company that my Sarah liked, put a new rug in her bedroom after she passed.”
I hesitated; my eyebrows rose in an unasked question.
“She had been ill and slept in the guest room. She wanted me to be rested for work. She was very thoughtful.” My gut seized, and I worked to keep my emotions in check.
“Of course.” I smiled. “When the house is finished, I’ll have a few friends in to toast the result. I’ll let you know. Do you like wine?”
“It is my favorite.” His grin was huge. “Sangria. I enjoy a glass before bedtime. It is soothing.”
I had to hide my suspicions from Fernando until I was positive he wasn’t involved in his wife’s death. I didn’t want any problems selling the house. A friendly invitation for wine would disguise my doubt.
Closing the door behind him, I muttered to myself, “Sarah didn’t sleep in the master bedroom. She’d been in another room. That spot on the rug I tested was probably red wine. Curses.”
Frustrated, I dialed Myra. “Remember, I told you about my luminol test?”
“Yes. You said you’d test the carpet from Fernando’s.”
“Well. I did. No glow.”
“That’s good.”
“I thought so too. But he was just here.”
“Yes?”
“He said that Sarah slept in another bedroom because she was sick.”
“Makes sense,” she commented.
Silence. “No, no. Don’t go there, Katelyn Baxter,” she warned me. “Don’t go snooping again.”
“It wouldn’t matter. Fernando already replaced the rug in the room where she slept.”
“So, any evidence of blood is gone. Best to leave it be,” she urged.
“I wonder what Dewey would say?” I mused aloud. My new favorite carpet store proprietor may have some information.
“Katelyn!” she admonished.
“Just curious,” I responded in a noncommittal tone.
“Uh huh.” She didn’t sound convinced.
To expedite the repairs, I went with the recommended contractors from the insurance gurus. They replaced both roofs within the month. While I waited for the vinyl siding to be matched and delivered, I focused on completing the inside.
In early May, I met with Dewey. He was calm and confident, answering all my questions about the carpet I chose as he measured each space. I admired his professionalism and said so, as he detailed the numbers. He paused and grinned, “Floors are my life.”
Pleased, I said, “I got your name from Randy, the plumber. He recommended you. He mentioned that you replaced flooring at a neighbor’s place?”
“Yes, I did. Just across the street, Fernando Garcia’s. A bedroom. Carpet was a mess. Wife had spilled a bottle of red wine and couldn’t get the stains out. The wine sat far too long. Her husband was eager to fix it.”
“Uh huh.” Bells rang in my mind.
“It was a shame to hear she’d passed,” he added.
“Yes. I’d just started the renovations here when all heck broke loose and the emergency responders removed her body.”
“I believe they’re still investigating?” he asked.
“Yes.”
I gave Dewey a deposit for the new carpet and we shook on the deal. He left, saying he’d call for an installation date when the flooring arrived in about ten to fourteen working days.
Chapter 17
Two weeks later, I returned to the rehab after purchasing supplies from the home store to find new siding had been delivered and stacked by the driveway. Ecstatic, I phoned the office to speak to the contractor. I talked to the job coordinator, and asked about the delivery.
“They’ll be out within the week to do the work,” the young man said. “The waste container will be delivered later today.”
“Do we know what day they’ll install the siding?”
“Nope. It’s a small job and they’ll fit it in between bigger projects.”
I pressed the young man, “I want to be here. Let me know.”
“We’ll give you a heads up.”
“Good.” Satisfied, I clicked off. Pleased the house would be back to pristine in short order, I continued painting the interior. The month of June was fast approaching, daylight was getting longer, the sun brighter, and the place was becoming a gem with fresh paint. I was psyched about the siding installation and the new flooring on order.
