Trace of Evil, page 6
Heat rose to my cheeks and I looked away. My mother honed in on me like a hungry hawk to a defenseless mouse.
An exaggerated eyebrow waggle and a “You’re not fooling me” grin preceded her next words. “Oh. He isn’t. Well, I say go for it. Electricians make good money.”
Since Sam would be back before long, we opted to order takeout. On this warm, sunny day, my yard looked great, so we ate outside. The daisies and marigolds Jimbo planted added a cheery note to an enjoyable lunch.
Mom was regaling me with stories of their trip to Connecticut when Heather arrived at the back gate. “Hi, everyone. Am I interrupting?”
“No.” I waved her over. “Come in and meet my parents.”
After the introductions, she revealed a small camera and said, “Want a photo shoot of your first cookout?” She pointed to the food bags and amended it to, “Or eat out.”
My mother loved the idea and prodded my father out of his chair. Heather posed us, prompting my mom to ask if she was a professional photographer. “Not yet. I’ve sold a few photos. I hope to do freelance for a couple of magazines.”
Heather ignored my father’s grumbling and moved us to different parts of the yard, framing us against the house, forsythia bushes, and the colorful flower beds. She took a few more photos inside. Her businesslike demeanor with much less of her signature chatter surprised me.
She thanked my parents for their cooperation. “I got some pretty good shots. I’ll go through them and make copies for you and Dani.”
Before she left, though, she mentioned the murder and ruined the mood. My parents exchanged horrified glances.
“Thanks Heather,” I said and walked her to the gate to end the subject. She wasn’t finished. Before she left, she placed her hands on her hips and glared at me. “I wish you’d be more concerned. We have to be vigilant. The killer might be anywhere.”
I hoped her words didn’t carry. If she was right, the murderer could be someone right in our neighborhood.
I rejoined my parents, told them I trusted the Salem police, and promised to be super careful. Then I unearthed old memories to defuse the situation. I pointed to the forsythia bushes. “Remember when I ran away from home and hid under the one in our back yard? And Mom left a tray with sandwiches and cookies on the table to let me sneak out and eat?”
The story elicited smiles, but Mom wasn’t deterred and pulled me aside. “What kind of people live in this neighborhood?”
“It’s a great place. There aren’t any secrets. Everyone knows each other.”
Her lips tightened as worry tinged her eyes. “What’s to stop some outsider from wandering in here?”
I chuckled. “If you’re worried about strangers, forget it. We have a tenacious watchdog across the street. Mrs. Wallace doesn’t miss a trick.”
“Make sure you always lock your doors.”
“I will, Mom.”
When Sam returned from his lunch break, my mother whispered in my ear, “Maybe we should stay until he leaves. This guy is a complete stranger.”
I had to assure her of his credentials before she’d go. After prolonged hugs and more admonitions to take care, my parents left.
I put away the lunch leftovers and cleaned the kitchen, hyper-aware of the hottie in the next room. With the kitchen gleaming, I put on a pot of coffee. “Hey, Sam.” I poked my nose into the bedroom. “Want a coffee?”
“Thanks. Sounds good. Black is fine.”
Yes! A smile strained my cheeks, and I got busy arranging what was left of the cookies from my bake-a-thon the previous night.
I didn’t notice him behind me. “How’s that coffee coming?” I jumped. “Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
His sexy smile brought heat to my face. Dormant amorous urges surfaced. Tom hadn’t revved my engine in a long time, and Sam’s proximity had my motor purring. Come on Dani. Get over yourself. He’s hot and you’re lonesome.
I put his cup and a plate full of cookies on the table. “All ready. Have a seat.”
His reaction delighted me. “I love chocolate chip cookies.” He nabbed one, took a big bite and gave a moan of pleasure. “Mmm, good.”
The sound went straight to my libido. I took a moment to compose myself and sighed. We may not be relationship-bound, but at least we had something in common. I gestured toward the bedroom. “What’s the verdict?”
He finished the cookie in his mouth before he spoke. “The reason you lost power in there is because it’s on a different system.” He raised an eyebrow and grinned. “The wiring dates back to Elias.”
My mouth dropped open. He chuckled. “An exaggeration. The structure has been here for a couple of centuries.”
He filled me in on the house. He discussed the history as if he enjoyed the subject, and I appreciated the way his eyes sparkled when he talked about the man who’d built the room.
“Old Elias began his career as a grunt on someone’s fishing boat and later became the owner of a small fleet.” He raised an eyebrow, and one side of his mouth quirked up. “They say he made his money when the moon was new.”
Confused, I said, “Were there more fish when the moon was new?’
He laughed. “He was a smuggler.” When he lowered his voice, he sounded like someone telling a ghost story. “During the new moon, when its face is dark, all kinds of fiends ply their trade. For a smuggler, it’s the perfect time to sneak onto the beach to unload illegal cargo.”
A cold wave encompassed me, and I rubbed my arms. “The more I hear about him, the less I like him.”
Sam winked and tossed back the rest of his coffee. “Elias would have liked you. From all accounts, he was quite the lady’s man.”
Was that a compliment? I patted my ponytail and prepared to start serious flirting, until he stood up. “I’m moving everything from the fuse box in the cellar to the central breaker panel here in the kitchen. Once that’s done, you won’t have any more trouble. Oh, by the way, I found evidence of mice in your bedroom closet. You might want to purchase a couple of traps.”
“Yuck,” I said, almost spitting out my coffee. That wasn’t at all amorous.
With a slight twist of his lips, he added, “If you catch any, give me a call and I’ll get rid of them for you.”
I scrunched up my shoulders and made an icky face, unable to blot out the image of a tiny, gray body squished in a trap.
He grinned at my discomfort. “Thanks for the cookies. They were delicious. Once I finish in the cellar, I’ll be done.”
Mention of the pit downstairs reminded me of Elias. I bet he stashed his loot in there.
A while later, I sat in the kitchen daydreaming about Sam, who must have a girlfriend, when a voice drifted in from the bedroom. It sounded like my name. Even though daylight splashed through the windows, goosebumps covered my arms.
I edged to the door and listened. It came again, a little muffled, but I recognized it as Sam’s voice. “Dani, damn it. Dani, Help.”
I ran in and swung my head around in an attempt to locate the source. Confused, I shouted, “Where are you?”
His angry retort roared from beneath my feet. “I’m locked in the damn cellar. Come get me.”
Oh, boy, I didn’t like that musty, dark room. I paused to contemplate the horror of being locked inside, and he bellowed again, “Dani.”
I snapped out of my speculation. “Okay. I’m coming.”
All the way down the stairs, I reassured myself, It’s only a room.
I hurried to the end of the cellar. Near the door, my footsteps slowed. The air was heavier, like pushing through a wall of syrup. My tattered nerves exaggerated everything. I wrapped my fingers around the door handle then jerked them back. The metal was ice cold. The dank odor beyond the door twisted around me.
“Sam, I’m here,” I yelled, as I attacked the cold surface once again, twisting to get it open. The knob wouldn’t budge. In my frustration, I tried kicking to no avail. All I did was give myself a sore ankle. “It won’t move.”
My declaration ignited a stream of swearwords from inside.
“I’ll try to get help. I’ll ask the guy upstairs.” There wasn’t much else I could do other than call the authorities. “I’ll be right back.”
I raced up two flights of stairs—exercise I wasn’t used to. With the exertion and heightened anxiety, my breathing was ragged when Doug Forman answered my knock. Thank God, he recognized me and didn’t slam the door in my face.
Doug was weirder, if possible, than his wife. We’d met outside over trash one day. He carried on for five minutes about dogs and raccoons who always managed to get into the barrels and make a mess. His dark-rimmed glasses and messy hair reminded me of a crazed scientist. I didn’t mind his tirades so much, but his silent stares made me uncomfortable. A couple of times on my way to work, I’d caught him peering through the shadows. Yuck!
I gasped out what happened to Sam.
Doug frowned. “Okay. Just a minute.”
When we reached my special cellar, I hollered to Sam to tell him I’d found someone. Doug twisted the knob, yanked on it, and gave the wood a big kick. The door remained closed. He might have hurt himself, but I pretended not to notice. With a savage scowl on his face, he scanned the floor around us.
“Wait a minute.” He stormed off to the other end of the room.
Clanks and squeaks echoed as he rummaged around. When he came back, a large metal pipe was slung over his shoulder like a baseball player ready to bat.
He swept his arm around and grinned. “Stand back.”
I moved far away in case he lost his grip and let the rod fly toward me. He lifted his arms above his head and slammed his weapon against the door handle again and again. He looked like a madman as he grunted and swung his metal bar.
When the handle flew off, Sam burst from the room like a volcanic eruption. He stood for a minute taking deep breaths then offered his hand to Doug. “Thanks so much. If you ever need any electrical work, I’m your man.”
Doug let the pipe clatter to the floor, gave me a sullen frown, and muttered, “No problem.”
At a questioning look from Sam, I shrugged. I wondered if Doug and Marie had ever been taught manners.
On the way upstairs, Sam said, “Man, I hate being trapped, and that place is the pits.”
Poor guy. I pictured myself stuck in there. No light. No air. Surrounded by dank muck, and closed in with all kinds of crawly, slithery creatures. When I imagined the walls closing in and the ground sucking me under, my stomach threatened to heave. “I couldn’t handle being locked in there. I’d go crazy or die.”
He twisted his lips in a half smile. “Well, thank God you weren’t stuck in there, then. I’d hate it if you died.”
Oh, boy, the killer smile again.
He shook his head. “I can’t understand how it got stuck. Mind if I take a look at the lock?”
“Be my guest.” Now I’d have to call Eddie and tell him something else was broken.
We were in the hall when Heather poked her head out of her kitchen. “What’s going on?”
When I told her Sam had been locked in the cellar, her lips pulled together in a grimace. “Oh, wow. That dungeon? I’m glad it’s closed off from the main basement. I got a peek in there once when Rose had trouble.” She shivered. “That was enough for me.” She peered at Sam. “Are you okay?”
He laughed. “Yeah, I’m fine. Other than having to deal with the fact I had to be rescued by a tiny female.”
Although I’d never been called tiny, I straightened to my full height. “Be grateful there was a tiny female around to save you.”
His lips curled in amusement. “Thanks for bringing the muscle.” He stopped and examined the floor. “Damn it. I forgot to clean my shoes. The dirt from that stinking place gets everywhere.”
Heather promised to sweep up the mess later, then walked us over to my place. She and Sam were old acquaintances. They chatted while he gathered his tools. Before he left, he assured me I’d have no more problems, thanked me again for coming to his rescue, and asked if he might take a couple of cookies with him. I almost tripped over myself hurrying to fill a baggy. He grinned, touched his fingers to his forehead in his little salute then left.
When the door closed, I tackled Heather on the subject of Sam Gregory.
“Oh, yeah, he’d be perfect for you. He’s divorced, and I’m pretty sure he isn’t dating anyone.”
We both agreed he was a total babe.
“I’d better get back to feed my hungry man. He gets wicked upset if his bow-wow burgers are late.” Heather snagged a couple of cookies and gave me a thumbs-up on her way out.
The rest of the evening, I fantasized about Sam. Although I didn’t want to jump into a relationship right away, it couldn’t hurt to find a hottie to play with.
Chapter Eight
On my way home from work, I wrangled with the Fischer dilemma. Why was my hateful boss appearing at my complex so often? I decided to contact the other managers to find out if he was bothering them too.
The blue lights of police cruisers in front of my home wiped Fischer from my mind. I zipped into the nearest parking space and joined the crowd gathered around our lawn. “What happened?”
No one had any idea, and their suppositions, including murder, made me sick. I ignored them and sprinted toward my apartment, where a policeman stopped me. “Are you Dani Trent?’
“Yes, what’s going on?” Fear made my voice low and breathy.
“There’s been a break-in at your neighbor’s apartment.”
“Oh, my God. Is she okay?”
“Not to worry. She wasn’t home when the burglary happened.”
Heather’s frantic calls for JoJo interrupted us. She spotted me when she came around the corner. “Oh, God. I’ve been robbed, and JoJo’s missing. I can’t find him. I’ve looked all over the apartment.” Tears coursed down her cheeks as she peered around. “My poor baby. Where is he?”
“Why don’t you take the cellar? I’ll do the outside.”
“Right.” She spun toward the basement entrance.
I ran outside, calling the dog’s name. I reached the street and asked, “Has anyone seen a small black dog?”
The sea of headshakes gave me hope he hadn’t gotten out there. I tore around the other side of the building and ended in my own yard. I bent over to catch my breath, then called the pup’s name. I was rewarded with the sound of pitiful little cries.
“JoJo?” The noise came again from the back. The poor little guy was whimpering underneath the forsythia bush.
I knelt and spoke in a soft whisper. “Hi, JoJo. Easy, baby.” I reached in to let him sniff my hand. After a few seconds, he scootched out on his tummy. Concerned he might be hurt, I took care when I lifted him. I was rewarded with a big lick.
He tucked his head into the crook of my arm, and I rushed to the side door hollering Heather’s name. She came bounding from the cellar.
“It’s okay. He’s safe.” When I placed him in her arms, her shoulders sagged, and she crooned his name.
Her hands moved over his body as she checked for trauma. Satisfied there were no injuries, she told me what happened. “When I came home, my back door was open and my apartment trashed. What a mess—all my stuff thrown around. Bureau drawers emptied. What would anyone want from me?”
The invasion of her privacy annihilated her self-confidence and kicked a hole in my own courage. I offered her my apartment as a refuge for however long she needed it. “You and JoJo should be comfortable on the sofa bed.”
“Thanks, but we’ll be okay in my apartment.”
Her wan attempt at a smile made me want to put my arm around her and protect her. When Eddie came around the corner, I almost attacked him. He rushed to Heather, concern etched on his face. “Are you all right? The police called.”
His abrupt appearance startled JoJo, who bared his teeth and growled. Heather apologized for her dog. “He’s traumatized by the invasion. Thank God that monster didn’t hurt him. I appreciate your concern. I’m fine, still a little shaken.”
Eddie stood there like a prizefighter waiting for the bell. I’d never witnessed his anger. He scowled and rubbed the back of his head. With his dark hair awry, he was kind of cute. I chuckled to myself. Eddie, who prided himself on being professional and tough, would be horrified at the word “cute.”
“I’d like to get my hands on the bastard who did this. I can’t believe I didn’t see him. I was here earlier. I must have missed him.” He shoved his glasses to the bridge of his nose and swore. “This is terrible. It makes me furious. Call me if you need any help. I’ve got new lock sets for your apartment in my truck. I’ll install them right away.”
After Eddie left, a policeman came to talk to us. “Looks like they figured the place would be empty. Easy enough to jimmy the lock. I’d suggest a deadbolt, ladies. In the meantime, if you see anything suspicious, call us.”
Inside my apartment, Heather and JoJo retreated to the living room where JoJo whined, ran to the back door, and scratched.
“He has to go,” she said.
“Perfect. I’ve got the makings for burgers. Why don’t we cook outside?” I found it easier to breathe there.
JoJo sniffed around the yard, then returned to his mistress who cuddled him in her arms. When she glanced behind me and gasped, I whipped around and followed her stare to the man at the gate. Tall and wiry, the sun glinted off the champagne highlights in his brown hair. He must have had a recent application.
I wanted to run as I screeched his name. “Tom!”
My shout and Heather’s gasp made JoJo bark. Tom’s smile dimmed. He hated dogs.
He walked in as if he belonged there. “Why were the police here? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. What are you doing here?”
His gaze strayed to Heather, who’d corralled her snarling dog. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your beautiful friend?”
I ignored the question. “I told you I didn’t want to see you again.”
