Epilogue
Saturday, August 6
It was the voices outside that woke Peter. That and slamming car doors. This would have to be the Saturday of the damn community garage sale.
He’d had too much paperwork to catch up on the night before, and slept through his usual Saturday morning at the dog park with Lia. The sun was high and laser hot where it shot through the crack between the curtains, hitting him between the shoulders. He started to pull the pillow over his head, but Viola nosed in next to him, frantically licking his face with an “uh, uh, uh.”
Dog. Walk. Right. A pair of shorts hanging from a doorknob were handy and still wearable. He grabbed a tee shirt, pulling it over his head on the way out while Viola whimpered at his heels. As an afterthought, he grabbed a pair of sunglasses with the leash. Self defense.
People streamed in and out of the house two doors down, entering with boxes from the lopsided stacks towering by the door and exiting with the same boxes filled to overflowing. The stacks threatened to topple over every time a box was removed, due to the enthusiasm of the customers.
A woman sat on the porch, surveying the activity. She was flanked by a golden retriever and a schnauzer. Viola whuffed hello to Honey and Chewy, causing Lia to look around, smiling.
“Isn’t this wonderful?” she asked Peter as he plopped down in the chair next to hers.
“I’ve never seen such an organized ring of burglars,” Peter said. “I never knew you were a criminal mastermind.”
“Smarty. Alma’s inside with Jim. Bailey and Jose are with them.”
“What the heck is this?”
She pointed to a sign on the lawn declaring “Everything Free.”
“When did you come up with this?”
“You’ve been so busy catching up on case files. I had a chat with Alma about the house last week. I knew she could get so much more for the property if it was cleared out. She didn’t want the hassle, so I suggested letting people take what they wanted for free in order to empty the house. She and Jim are inspecting the contents as they are uncovered, just to ensure Ruth didn’t hide a collection of Tiffany eggs in with the Tupperware.”
“I had a look at the inside last month. You’re more likely to have the Ark of the Covenant stashed in there.”
Lia nodded at a construction dumpster sitting at the curb. “Bailey and Jose are hauling out trash. I bet they wouldn’t mind some help.”
“What’s the pay?”
“Pennies in Heaven.”
Peter sat back, arms folded. “Seriously?”
“This is for Alma.”
“I don’t see you hauling trash.”
“It was my idea. We’ve only be at this since eight, and the house is half-empty already.”
“You’re doing a good thing here.”
“This place is so lovely. All that leaded glass, the turrets, and the sunroom out back. The light is terrific.”
“It does have good bones. Foundation is solid.”
“You know, I’ve been thinking.”
“And?”
“I love this house, I’d buy it, but I need a tenant.”
“Really?”
“I could make a really good deal on rent if someone would help me with maintenance.”
“Thinking about asking Jose?”
“Are you going to make me spell it out?”
“Spell what out?”
“Helena Bonham Carter and Tim Burton. They were a couple. Did you know that?”
“You reading ‘Us’ these days?”
“I should be that bored. Anyway, they were together for 13 years, but they never lived in the same house. They lived next door to each other. Like a duplex, I think.”
“That so?”
“So I was wondering …”
Peter waited her out.
“How much do you know about home maintenance?”
“I’ve been known to change a furnace filter or two. Why do you ask?”
“Geezlepete! Do you want to share the house with me or not?”
“Oh? Were you asking?”
Lia punched him in the shoulder.
“Ow! That depends. Do I get the upstairs or the downstairs?”
“Upstairs.”
“I’d feel better if you were on the second floor. Second floor is always safer.”
“Take it or leave it, Kentucky Boy.”
“And those side lights are a security risk. Anyone could smash one and open the front door from the inside. They need to be removed.”
“Not on your life. I’ll stick a pair of cactuses behind them.”
“Not enough light for cactus.”
“I’ll make fake ones, but the sidelights stay. See, this is what I mean. Conflict.”
“I thought we were engaging in creative negotiation.”
“If I had a tenant who was just a tenant, they’d have no business telling me what floor to live on or what I need to do to my sidelights.”
“How much fun would that be? Would you settle for a security system with glass sensors and a double-cylinder deadbolt?”
“I might. I don’t know if we need the alarm system. We have dogs.”
“Well then.”
“Dourson?”
“Yes, Babe?”
“First glimmer of plumber’s crack, and I’m booting your ass out.”
“I can live with that.”