Даниэла Стил - Neighbors

Reluctantly, she stood up and followed Charles out of her study. They went downstairs, and Meredith took a key from a locked key rack that was only to be used in emergencies, like in case of fire. She unlocked their door, and almost shuddered as she did it. She trusted them, and she was sure that they wouldn’t find anything that had been missing. She was violating them and fifteen years of their kindness to her.

They walked into the living room of their apartment, where Jack and Debbie knew they were safe and their employer hadn’t set foot in fifteen years, and never would. She was too respectful and proper to do so. The piece of carved jade was sitting on a coffee table, amid a bunch of newspapers, with some nail clippers, and a pack of cigarettes. The Fabergé box that had been missing since the earthquake was sitting on the chest of drawers in the bedroom. Meredith’s breath caught as her eyes swept the room. There were two extremely valuable small French paintings that she and Scott had bought in Paris. They were hanging above their bed. Apparently, they liked them enough to steal them, and they knew she would never come into their room. She couldn’t remember when the paintings had disappeared, she’d never even noticed they were missing.

Charles pulled open the closet door, and there were four alligator handbags that Meredith had forgotten she ever owned, and hadn’t seen in ten or twelve years. She couldn’t help wondering if they had shattered the ivory horse on purpose and blamed Will, and planted Jack’s Swiss Army knife underneath his pillow. They were cruel, evil people who had played her for a fool. She wondered if Charles was right, and they had intentionally isolated her and tried to influence and control her, or simply took advantage of the fact that she had isolated herself, and she had no other friends left except the two of them, two petty criminals who had used her in every way they could.

“I’m sorry, Meredith,” Charles said when he saw the look on her face. “If you let me, I can do some research with the stores and services you do business with. Creaming money off the top of your accounts is how a lot of these people operate. The stores won’t like to admit it, but faced with the police, they will. You’ve been profitable for Jack and Debbie, more than you intended.” She nodded. “They’ve probably stolen money from you in other ways too.” She thought of the car Jack had bought recently, a new Mercedes. She’d been impressed that they’d saved enough money to do so.

“I’d like to know,” she said to him in a choked voice, and sat down in their living room, to wait for them. Charles sat in a chair across from her. They sat there like stone statues until they heard Debbie and Jack come in. They were talking and laughing, and Debbie screamed when she walked into the room and saw them. She looked as though she didn’t know which direction to run. Her eyes darted to the piece of jade on the table, to Meredith’s face, and then she ran into the bedroom and came back again.

“Game over,” Charles said quietly. “You’ve had a profitable little business running here, haven’t you?”

“What the hell are you doing in our apartment?” Jack shouted at him, advancing on him menacingly, and Charles looked unimpressed and didn’t move.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. I’ve gone through the police files, they have your fingerprints, and we’ve seen the arrest records for both of you. We’ll be giving them a list of what you’ve stolen from here. What we can find records for. We’ll cross-check Ms. White’s insurance records to see what’s disappeared over the years. I imagine you sold a lot of it. You had a nice little cash flow going for yourselves, didn’t you? I’ve got two of my operatives on the way over. They’ll watch you pack, and you’ll be escorted out of the building as soon as you’re packed. You’re finished here. Ms. White will press charges, and there will be a full audit of all her household accounts.” Meredith had just told him that Debbie could write checks on one household account. He was going to have all the locks changed too.

“You’re a bitch to let him do this,” Debbie shouted at Meredith, as she sat motionless watching the woman who had pretended to comfort her for so many years. “We were the best friends you ever had.” Meredith didn’t speak to her. She didn’t know what to say. She was crushed and speechless for a minute.

“Friends don’t steal from each other, and cheat and lie and manipulate,” Charles said to her. “You’ve got half an hour to pack. We’ll watch you do it. We’ll report this to the police today. It’s up to Ms. White if she’s going to prosecute you. I’m going to advise her to. And I suggest you don’t leave town,” he said in an ice-cold voice.

“Screw you!” Debbie spat at him as though talking to a prison guard. They had nothing to lose now. They had turned into people Meredith didn’t even recognize. They always had been, she knew now.

Jack ambled into their bedroom and took out a suitcase while Charles watched what he put in it. He brought the Fabergé box back to sit in front of Meredith, where she could keep an eye on it, and he was watching the two paintings to make sure they didn’t disappear. There wasn’t a sound in either room while they packed. Two of Charles’s operatives came to the back door ten minutes later and Meredith let them in. They crowded into the small apartment with them. One stood a foot away from Debbie, and the other next to Jack. They knew there was no room left to maneuver. Charles was right. The game was over. Meredith looked as though someone had died as they zipped up their bags, looked around the room, and stared at her. There was no apology, no thank-you, no regret on either of their faces. Just two nasty, sick people, sociopaths, who had had a heyday with her, and exploited the tragedies in her life for fifteen years.

Charles’s operatives walked them out into the street, where their car was parked. Meredith made no attempt to say goodbye to them. She couldn’t say a word. Charles directed one of his men to call a locksmith, while Meredith collected the stolen items they’d retrieved and laid them on the bed.

“I’ll bring them up to you later,” Charles promised, and then they left the small airless apartment and went back upstairs. It had been one of the most unpleasant, saddest hours she’d ever spent. All of her illusions about humanity had come crashing down around her. She didn’t say a word to Charles on their way upstairs. The only words she could finally get out were “Thank you.” She walked straight into Tyla’s bedroom then and spoke to her, standing at the foot of the bed, as Charles waited in the hall for her.

“I owe you an apology, and Will. And I want to tell him myself. We found the jade, and the Fabergé box, and a number of other things. I’m sure he didn’t break the horse or take the Swiss Army knife. Charles discovered that Jack and Debbie have criminal records, and we found a stash of stolen items in their room. Some of them have been gone for a very long time. They just left.” She felt dead inside as Tyla looked at her and nodded, and then Meredith went to her study, and sat thinking about them. Charles sat next to her as tears of grief and disappointment rolled down her cheeks, and he took her in his arms and held her, as her heart ached and she sobbed.

She went to find Will after that and solemnly apologized to him for questioning his honesty at all. He hugged her after she told him and swore he would never take anything of hers. Charles checked with her suppliers that afternoon, and he was right about that too. She nodded when he told her that they had gotten sizeable kickbacks for years. They knew how to work the system, and were total con artists.