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Rob Croix didn’t look anything like I’d expected. He was a few years younger than me, probably in his late thirties or early forties, and at least six inches shorter. He also had a lot less hair than me. I immediately disliked him when he pushed Fred away after he'd gone to greet him.
“Does he bite?” Rob asked when I took hold of Fred’s collar.
“Hasn’t bit anyone for at least a week.” I stood between them when I answered. I saw tattoos on Rob’s hands that looked like they continued up his arms. They were covered in a long-sleeved brown shirt with his name above the shirt pocket, but I’d seen enough to know Rob wasn’t someone to mess with.
“I’m joking,” I added, when I saw his face muscles tighten and his eyes grow larger. “Come on in and I’ll introduce you to Bonnie Jones, the owner of the house.”
***
CROIX SEEMED LESS INTIMIDATED by Bonnie and Tigger. I made Fred stay outside and took the precaution of locking his doggie door. We had to make Croix let down his guard if we were to get any information out of him. He also seemed to be more comfortable talking with Bonnie than me, so I stayed downstairs while she showed him the exposed knob-and-tube wiring in the attic. They weren’t up there long before returning to the kitchen.
“The way I see it, Ms. Jones, is I’ll have to replace all your wiring and install a new two-hundred-amp service.” They were both ignoring me which made me think back to Kari’s comment about being a fly on the wall, so I busied myself making coffee.
“All of it? Even the wires in the walls?” She was playing him better than a concert pianist playing Mozart’s piano concerto twenty-one. The best part was that his attitude had changed completely.
“Especially the wires in the walls. We might get lucky and be able to fish the new Romex through the walls without tearing them apart, but that will depend on if there’s much insulation and firestopping.”
“Firestopping? What’s that?”
“Two-by-fours placed perpendicular to the studs. It was very common in these old houses with balloon framing.” His grin reminded me of Tigger playing with a freshly caught mouse, but he did know what he was talking about, I’d have to give him that. It’s the way he said it that irked me.
Bonnie would surely get an Oscar for the way she acted. She had both her elbows on the table, holding her head in her hands, and giving Croix her undivided attention. “Oh my! It sounds expensive.”
I saw my chance to cut in and held up the coffee pot. “Would you care for something in your coffee, Mr. Croix? We have half-and-half, sugar, and even something stronger if you’d like.”
He stopped his sales pitch and looked at me. “How strong?”
“Why don’t you give Rob some of my Jack Daniels in his coffee, Jake? It’s getting cold out there. I’ve been saving it for a day such as this.”
“Yes, ma’am. Two Irish coffees coming up.” I made sure to double Croix’s whiskey. With a little luck, it would do a lot more than warm him up.
“Hold the whipped cream. Just the whiskey and sugar for me—I’m on a diet.” He laughed. Actually, it was more of a snort, like he’d told a funny joke.
Bonnie pretended to be amused and giggled. “Me, too, Jake, seeing as we don’t have any whipped cream.”
I looked at Tigger who was lying at Bonnie’s feet. “You hear that, Tig? Looks like you’re out of luck. You’re too young for coffee or whiskey, and we’re out of cream.” No one laughed.
***
CROIX SAT BACK IN HIS chair, holding his cup in both hands, and inhaled the fumes. I’d put enough whiskey in it to embalm a rat. He took a sip and leaned forward, smiling.
Fred was whining at the door to get in, so I went to unlock his doggie door when Croix started explaining to Bonnie all the expensive work he’d have to do to bring the wiring up to code.
“Behave yourself, or I’ll put you back outside—understand?” I said in a whisper when he came inside. He must have understood because he stayed by my side and completely ignored Croix when we returned to the kitchen.
The whiskey was having its intended effect. Croix had his cellphone out and was showing Bonnie pictures of his kids. I couldn’t wait to ask her what that was all about. “They look like lovely children, Rob. You must be so proud,” she said, while winking at me. He’d been too occupied with his phone to notice.
“I love ‘em like they were my own. Why just last summer, Lexi saved her little brother with her CPR skills. He got a shock from a dock on the lake and nearly drowned.” His smile was genuine. I could tell by the gleam in his eyes that he truly loved them as his own.
“It’s amazing how having kids can change your life around,” he continued while flipping through the pictures. “Kat and I—she’s their mother and my wife—try to take them everywhere we go. Ah, here’s one of us fishing in my boat down at Table Rock Lake. We go down to this mom-and-pop place in Kimberling City whenever we can.”
Bonnie must have seen her chance. “Is that when Little Matt almost drowned? When you were fishing?”
“No, they were at their father’s place on the lake. He gets them two weeks in the summer and another at Christmas break. Or at least, he used to.”
If I’d been drinking coffee, I would have spit it out. Did he tell her Matt Junior’s name when I was letting Fred in? I prayed he had.
“Would anyone care for a refill?” I hoped my interruption would catch him off guard before he had the chance to ask how she knew the boy’s name.
“Yeah, thanks,” Rob answered. “Why don’t you grab a cup and join us? I was just about to add up my estimate for Ms. Jones.” He didn’t give Fred a second glance, nor had he caught Bonnie’s slip-up. I sat down and was ready to kick her if she brought up Little Matt again.
***
EVERYONE SAT IN SILENCE while Rob wrote on his pad of paper and punched numbers into the calculator app on his phone. He hit the last equals sign and looked up at Bonnie. “Looks like twenty-five grand and change. I’ve allowed for ten hours of demo in case we run into blocking. We can fish the wire from the attic, but if we run into any blocking, we’ll have to cut into the wall and drill a hole through it. I’ll have to charge another seventy-five an hour.”
“Will you be using fourteen gauge or twelve?” I asked and immediately wished I had taped my mouth shut.
Croix turned from his sales pitch to Bonnie and looked at me like he was seeing me for the first time, despite having served him coffee. “There’s a question I don’t get very often. Are you an electrician?”
Bonnie rescued me. “He’s my handyman. Fixed-up most of the house, but when I asked him about doing the wiring, he told me it was beyond him and said I should hire a real electrician.”
Croix relaxed. “Smart move...ah..., I’m sorry I forgot your name.”
“Jake.”
“Well, Jake, I’m glad you had the sense to tell her that. You won’t believe how many homeowners around here try to do their own wiring. About all it accomplishes is to keep the fire departments hopping.” He took a short break and another sip of his fortified coffee. “Unlicensed wiring is the number one cause of fires in the county, you know. Well, next to arson, according to my brother-in-law.”
“Is he a fireman, Rob?”
“No, ma’am. He’s a Fremont County deputy sheriff. Married to my sister.”
“Jake’s girlfriend is a deputy. Maybe she knows him. What’s his name?
“Greg Johnson. Tell your girlfriend to say hello for me, Jake.”