Jeanne Adams - Dark and Deadly

“However, when we check the areas you mentioned—” he rattled off the more suburban areas—“I came up with six for you to see today. One is even a listing of mine. Friends from my early days in Philadelphia. There will be more as I see what you like and don’t like from this list.” He stood, taking papers from the printer. “So, we’ll go now, yes?”

“That’s great.” Pam bounced out of her seat and tugged Torie from hers. “Let’s go. We need something to keep our minds off our woes,” she said.

“Ah, yes. I know of your friend’s troubles,” he said to Pam, with a nod to Torie. “But you, dear flower, what possible trouble could be darkening your doorway?”

“Oh, it’s just that a friend of mine is missing. He’s probably fine, but, you know,” Pam said, seeming to shrug it off.

“Ah, yes. A friend.” He turned to Torie and grinned. “Pam is forever bringing me a friend. I am quite grateful to her, you know. And to you for coming by today. You have brightened a dreary morning.”

Torie smiled in return. His boyish humor was infectious, crinkling his merry dark eyes and lined cheeks. Despite the fact that he was nearing sixty, he was handsome, his white hair and eyebrows a contrast to his warm brown skin tone. “I appreciate your willingness to help me,” she said.

“We will be sure to get you something nice,” Kuhman insisted. “Very cozy, very practical while you wait for your difficulties to mend themselves. We will make sure that even with the dog, you have a good place. Now, do you want to drive with me or follow me?”

“We’re going to run errands when we’re done, so we’ll follow you.” They also had to be sure the latest in the series of watchdogs knew which car to follow.

“Very good.” He handed Torie a copy of the listing sheets, and they separated to their respective cars.

“This looks nice,” Pam said, peering over her shoulder at the first house.

“Big,” she commented. She didn’t want to look for a place. Not today. Today she wanted to hide her head under the covers and feel sorry for herself.

She knew it was sheer cowardice, but it would have felt good. Even if it wasn’t the right thing to do.

“What’s up with all that sighing over there?” Pam said. “I’m the one who got tossed aside. You merely got shot at, oh, and had your house burned.”

As Pam intended, she laughed. “Yeah, paltry stuff.”

“So you gonna kick his ass some more?”

“No, I’m not going to speak to him if I don’t have to.”

“Mature reasoning,” Pam offered, dodging out of the way as Torie punched her arm. “Totally. You can get another lawyer. Hey, do you need an attorney if the coppers say you’re off the hook?”

“I don’t know. There’s still the will and stuff, which he says I have to be present for. And he’s working with the police to tie all this together, see if it fits.”

“Fits what? The looney profile? I can tell you now that it does.”

Trust Pam to wrap it up so neatly. “Yeah. Well, I think we’ve got no call to throw stones at loonies. We were the ones out stealing a dog. Hell, we’re still hiding him.”

“About that—” Pam began.

“What? Bear didn’t get loose again, did he?” Torie was anxious all over again thinking about it. “Do we need to go over there?”

“No, but Carlos’s mama is coming from Chile. For the next few weeks, I’m helping him get his house fixed up so she doesn’t catch him in all the lies he’s told about what he’s done around the place.”

She said it so matter-of-factly that Torie sniggered. “And?”

“No dogs allowed. Between the number of workmen I’m gonna have in and out of there, and the noise? Bear will go nuts.”

“I’ll take him.”

“What? Now who’s nuts?” Pam pulled to the curb behind Kuhman and turned to face her. “The dog’s enormous. He’s huge, untrained, and potentially dangerous just because of his sheer mass. Not to mention that he looks incredibly scary with those bicolored eyes. Hell, he’s got jaws like a hippo.”

“Yeah? And?”

“You’re nuts. You don’t have a place to—” Pam started. “Sorry, but you don’t.”

“I have to have a pet-friendly place for Pickle as it is. What does it matter if it’s one dog or two? I know what Bear is, and I know he’s salvageable.”

Pam rolled her eyes. “Please, Torie, be reasonable. Have you seen the size of that dog? Really? In daylight?”

“No, but I know what he is. About a hundred and thirty pounds of misunderstood mutt. He needs a home, I need him. End of story. I’ll order a really big crate for him.”

To end the discussion, she got out of the car. She reminded herself not to look for her bodyguard. Focused on that, and on Pam, she hadn’t looked at the house on the listing sheet other than to note that it was big.

“Oh,” was all she could say. The house was neglected, that was obvious, but it had potential. “It’s great.”

“The fence is sagging, the gutters are full of crap, the grass is more like hay, and you say oooh?” Pam shook her head. “Maybe we should get your head examined.”

“Come on,” Torie said, ignoring the jibe. “Let’s see inside.”

“This is in an estate,” Kuhman explained as he removed the key from a heavy lockbox on the front porch rail. “The family cannot decide what they are to do with it.”

“It’s—” Torie was about to gush and say it was great, but Pam’s elbow hit her ribs and Pam gave a warning shake of her head. “In bad shape.”

“Yes, yes, but it was a beauty at one point.” Kuhman pointed out the details of the wood paneling, the inset brass diamonds in the floor tile.

Pam on the other hand, pointed out the drooping wallpaper, the foyer ceiling that canted slightly to the left, and the multitude of cracked window panes.

Torie let the two of them duke it out, since it was obvious they were enjoying their sparring. She wandered through the dining room, through a butler’s pantry, and into a hideously outdated kitchen.

“Oh, Lord, look at this place. No, Torie, you couldn’t possibly live here.”

She looked at the gleam in Pam’s eye and nearly laughed. Keeping to her role, though, she played along. Pam knew her well enough to know that she liked the house.

“It is pretty dilapidated. Especially this kitchen.”

“It’s right out of the nineteen thirties is what it is.”

“No, no, the appliances are new.” Kuhman pointed to a stainless steel dishwasher. It was so obviously new and out of place it was like a rocket ship on a sheep farm.

“One appliance,” Pam insisted. “Only one. The refrigerator qualifies as an antique. Jeez, Kuhman. Torie’s house burned, she’s not gonna be bringing appliances with her, you know.”

“Yes, yes, well maybe there will be some concessions from the owners. Come and see the rest of the house. They allow pets, you know. The old lady, she was fond of dogs, you see, and had several. They told me…” He rattled on about the old lady’s chihuahuas as they walked on, but once again Torie lagged behind, checking out the living room with its built-in bookshelves. While Pam and Kuhman argued over the fence and the need for repairs, she mounted the worn and creaking stairs to the second floor.

Light flooded the upper hall, gilding the wooden banister, and highlighting more falling wallpaper. The dust was thick as could be, and the bedroom doors creaked like a movie prop house.

“Wow,” Torie exclaimed, pushing open the door to the master bedroom. “Amazing.”

The balcony, the light, the huge bathroom, and the massive cedar-lined walk-in closet closed the deal. She could live here.

“Torie?” Pam followed her in. “Oh, check that out.” She, too, was captivated by the view of the huge backyard with its oaks and flower beds.