Даниэла Стил - Neighbors

“I’m not that young,” she said, thinking about it.

“If you’ll allow me to say so, you’re too young to lock yourself away forever. You need to come back into the world in some way that means something to you, whatever that is. It’s never too late to start over.”

As he said it, Peter and Ava arrived back in the kitchen at the same time. He had a thick stack of papers in his hand, and handed it to Ava. It was his manuscript. She had promised to read it, and ran back upstairs with it to put in her room. He left for the OES office a few minutes later, and Arthur smiled at Meredith. They were friends now, and she took seriously what he’d said to her.

“I may be blind,” he said softly, “but I smell romance in the air,” he said, referring to Peter and Ava, and she laughed.

“You could be right. I don’t disagree with you. But she and Joel seem quite involved. I’m not sure how that would work out.”

“You never know with people. He never lets anyone read his manuscript.”

Meredith escorted Arthur to his room after Peter left, and as soon as she got back to her study, Debbie appeared with a somber expression and said she had to speak to her.

“Is something wrong?” Debbie nodded, with a devastated expression, as though the world had come to an end. She had been unusually dramatic lately, ever since their unexpected houseguests had arrived. Both she and Jack had been acting strangely and bordering on rude with them. It was the first time she had had any guests in fourteen years, and Meredith had been startled by their behavior.

“I was cleaning in the main living room this morning,” she began, and Meredith was certain she was about to report on some treasure that had been broken in the earthquake. “I don’t even know how to say this to you, but the heart-shaped pink enamel Fabergé box is missing.”

“Missing or broken?” It was something Meredith had paid a fortune for years before and had always loved. It had diamonds and pearls on it, and an inscription inside from the czar to his mother. It was an extremely valuable collector’s item, and it was too large for someone to slip into a pocket.

“I hate to say it, but I think one of your guests must have taken it. I saw the sex bomb looking at it a few days ago. I don’t know if it was her or one of the others. I know it’s very valuable and how much you loved it.” None of their day workers had been able to come to work since the earthquake, so it couldn’t be one of them, and they had worked for Meredith for years, and were trustworthy.

“When was the last time you saw it?” Meredith asked her, trying to sound calm about it, although she would be sad if it had been lost.

“I was in the room the afternoon of the earthquake and saw it, and now it’s not there. I looked everywhere for it, in case someone picked it up and set it down in the wrong place. It can only be one of the people staying here,” she said solemnly, and Meredith looked shocked, but something felt wrong about the story. She wasn’t sure what. “Do you want me and Jack to search their rooms if they go out today?” she asked hopefully.

“Certainly not! They’re all respectable people with fine homes of their own. They don’t need to steal valuable objects from me. I just don’t understand it. It will probably turn up.”

“Not if someone plans to sell it. Should we call the police?”

“I’m not ready to do that yet,” Meredith said.

“I think you need to ask them to leave, if you don’t want to search their belongings.” Debbie looked disappointed. She and Jack had been sure she’d be willing to do that for the Fabergé box, with a bunch of strangers in the house.

“And where would they go? None of the hotels are up and running, half the city doesn’t have power yet. I won’t send them to the shelters. From what Colonel Chapman tells me, most people have earthquake victims staying in their homes.”

“But not people they don’t know.”

“It can’t be one of them,” Meredith reasoned with her. “Andrew Johnson is a respected physician, his wife is a lovely woman. Arthur Harriman is one of the most famous musicians in the world. Peter may not be rich, but he seems like an honorable young man. Joel Fine has made a half a billion dollars on his two startups. He certainly doesn’t need to steal a Fabergé box from me. He could buy his own.”

“And his girlfriend?”

“I just can’t believe that,” Meredith said firmly.

“Who do you suspect then? Jack and me?”

“Of course not. You’ve worked here for fifteen years, and been the best friends I’ve ever had. I don’t know where the box is, but it’s here somewhere. Maybe someone put it in a drawer so it wouldn’t get broken in an aftershock and forgot to tell me. I’ll ask everyone tonight. These people are friends now, Debbie, and I just don’t believe they’re stealing from me.”

“You’re being naïve,” Debbie said angrily, “you’ve been isolated for too long. You’ve forgotten what people are capable of. One of your new friends has stolen something valuable, while staying in your home. If you had any sense, you would throw them all out, before they take something else.” Meredith was angry at the way she said it, and the presumptuousness of telling her what to do. The boundaries between them had dissolved a long time ago, and Debbie had forgotten that she was an employee and did not call the shots. Meredith didn’t like her tone. She stood up to indicate that she wanted her to leave the room. The conversation was over. Meredith was not about to throw her new friends out of her home. If anything, she wanted Tyla to stay longer, until she could figure out how to help her with Andrew. After what Daphne had told her, she was seriously worried.

Debbie walked out of the room and slammed the door behind her. She was fuming in a black rage when she got downstairs, found Jack in the living room of their apartment, and told him what had happened.

“Do you realize I told her that one of them had stolen it, and not only does she not believe me, she doesn’t care. I think she’s losing her mind.”

“Or reclaiming her independence. Personally, I’d prefer it if she was senile. And the old man has been telling her to open her doors wider. I heard him. We’re never going to have the influence we did before, if she does that. We’ve been the only voices in her head for fourteen years since her boy died, and her only friends. Talk about ungrateful. What do we do about the box now?”

“Hang on to it, sell it, whatever we want. It won’t do us any good to put it in one of their rooms. She forbid me to search their rooms with you. She trusts them. Shit, a week ago she didn’t even know them. Now they’re her best friends.” Jack took a long swig of bourbon from his flask then, and Debbie held a hand out. He handed it to her, and she finished the rest.

“I want to get those bastards out of here,” Jack said with a venomous look. “She won’t listen to us again until we do.” She was slipping through their fingers, and they both knew it. For fourteen years, they had had control of her, and now suddenly she was slowly moving back into the world, and once she did, it was over for them, and everything they loved about the job would be ruined.

—

Meredith was still angry after Debbie left the room. She sat thinking about it for a minute, asking herself if she thought one of her current guests had stolen the Fabergé box, and she couldn’t imagine it. She didn’t want to believe it of them, but she couldn’t think who else it would be. And no one else had been in the house except Jack and Debbie since the earthquake. None of their day cleaners had come in, and they were all longtime employees too. The box had to be misplaced somewhere, put away for security. It was the only possible explanation, and she trusted Jack and Debbie implicitly.