Chapter Seventy Seven
Cam frowned as he stared at the mailbox. For several weeks, he and Dean hadn’t been getting mail. They had complained to the office, and the management talked to the postal person who delivered the mail. The postal service insisted they had been delivering the mail. They had swapped out the lock on it, issued them new keys, and now someone had damaged it, trying to force the small door open.
“Do you have enemies, Mr. Kent?” the office manager asked crossly.
Cam shook his head. “Not that I know of. I don’t know what’s going on. Dean and I can’t think of anyone who would want to do this sort of thing.”
“Well, try to figure it out. It’s expensive to keep replacing these things.”
Cam nodded, puzzled. Who on earth had it out for them?
***
“I hope this one works out,” Aralyn sighed as she turned onto the street. “I’m tired of looking at crap holes.”
“Agreed,” Natala said. “There has got to be something decent in our price range.”
It was a cold Saturday morning in January as the trio headed to meet the real estate agent. After looking at eight apartments they had found advertisements for, they were all grumpy with the process. Honey finally suggested they use an agent from the Wheeler Real Estate division of Wheeler Industries. They had resisted at first, but after three weekends of a fruitless search involving run down apartments and dangerous neighborhoods, they had agreed, so Honey made the call.
“These look pretty nice,” Tiffany commented as they cruised down the street of brownstones. “Aren’t brownstones kind of pricey?”
“Yep,” Aralyn answered. “You did give Honey our budget, right?”
“I did, but you know Mom. Hopefully she remembers what it’s like to live on a tight budget as a college student.”
The neighborhood was well- kept, with maintained sidewalks, old trees every few feet, and long sections of brownstones that had been preserved nicely over the years.
“It’s this one,” Aralyn said. Turning on her blinker parked on the street in front of the house. A silver sedan sat in the driveway.
“No yard to maintain,” Natala noted. “Just a few bushes and a tree.”
“I think it has a small backyard,” Aralyn put it in park and they got out. “They generally do.”
The front door opened a woman stepped out. In her early forties, with short, styled gray hair, wearing a dark suit and heels, with the purple jacket of the company, she gave the girls a welcoming smile.
“Hello, ladies. My name is Maria, I’m going to be showing you some properties today. And if we don’t find the one you want, don’t worry. We have one of the largest inventories in the state of properties for rent.”
“Why is this one up for rent?” Aralyn asked, as they followed Maria in.
“The owner lived here with his brothers,” she answered. “One got deployed, one got married, and the owner himself got transferred to Atlanta. He had to move in a hurry so he asked us to handle the renting so he didn’t have to worry about it.”
Aralyn nodded but something about the story didn’t quite ring true. Brownstones in this area didn’t usually come up for rent. Especially to college students. Why didn’t the guy just sell outright?
“One of the best features of this particular brownstone,” Maria said in the entryway, “is that the previous owners kept a lot of the original molding when it was converted into apartments. The current owner didn’t bother with such things but the owner who did the conversion had an appreciation for such details, so you’re looking at quality work here.”
The girls glanced up and could see the intricate moldings running along the edge where the ceiling and wall met. Set back from the foyer was the staircase leading upstairs. Around the first wall opened into a large space.
“Back in the day, this would have been the Garden Floor, with the parlor,” Maria led them into the room on the immediate right. “Of course we call it a living room now. The fireplace had new stone put in a few years ago that replicated the original because just look at that gorgeous carving design. It would have been a real shame to just plaster over that, like many do. And the floors are hardwood that have been refinished.”
“Over this way is the dining room, and one of the kitchens.”
“One of?” Natala asked.
“There are two, one on this level, and one on the lower floor.”
The floor beneath them that was visible from the street, was the ground floor, with a bedroom, bathroom, kitchen and living room.
Beneath it was a finished, spacious basement, divided into large rooms.
In the basement, Aralyn caught a scent that made her frown. As Maria led the girls through it, Aralyn looked up. New beams had been placed, and in one area, what looked like a heavy ring. That basement was quite spacious, with its own bathroom. She noted the wiring on the walls. It had been wired for cable already. Rec room? She thought.
“Was there some recent construction here?” Aralyn asked.
Maria nodded. “The owner was planning on turning this into a home gym. I believe he had a punching bag hanging there. I think this was to be their ‘man cave’,” she laughed.
That struck Aralyn as convenient. She had been trying to talk Bo into hanging a punching bag in the garage. Aralyn opened a closet door and peered in. She flipped on the light and raised one eyebrow, at the can of paint that had been hidden there. If the owner had been gone for over a month, why did she smell fresh paint, and why was there a can in the closet, also smelling fresh?
She rejoined the others as Maria was leading them back to the stairs. Tiffany caught Aralyn’s face and frowned a question at her. Aralyn shook her head slightly. She’d tell her soon.
The ground floor was an apartment in itself, with a kitchen, living room, bathroom and bedroom.
The first floor where they had entered, had the foyer, living room, dining room that over looked the garden in back, and main kitchen. Tiffany admired the gorgeous staircase going up and its intricate carvings on the banister.
Maria led them through up the stairs, to the other living quarters. The second floor was split into two apartments, each with a full bath. The rooms were spacious, with the one on the backside having a terrace that overlooked the garden.
The third floor held another apartment with a full bath, and a second bedroom. All of the bedrooms had walk in closets. The windows in the entire place were large and square, allowing plenty of natural light in. There were fireplaces in each bedroom, two on the ground and first floors and slanty ceilings on the third floor.
“Oh, all of the doors slide open, into the wall. None swing out.” She demonstrated the door. “Super convenient and space saving."
The garden was dormant of course, in the middle of winter, but Natala eyed the small garden beds with interest. She was hoping to start an herb garden in the spring.
“Well, what do we think?” Maria asked brightly.
Aralyn glanced at Tiffany. She needed to talk to her cousins but she wanted to do so privately. They had been touring this place for almost an hour and Aralyn’s head was full of thoughts and questions.
“It does seem ideal,” Tiffany said politely, knowing her cousin wanted a moment.
Maria sensed it. “I tell you girls what. I need to check in with the office. Why don’t I leave the contract with all the information and numbers, and we meet back here in say, two hours? You girls can get some lunch, discuss it amongst yourselves, wander around and see if you can visualize yourselves living here. Then I can answer any questions you may have.”
“That sounds perfect, thank you,” Tiffany agreed.
Maria handed her some papers and a key, and a few minutes later, departed, leaving the girls alone.
Tiffany turned to Aralyn. “You have your suspicious face on.”
“You know the saying, if seems too good to be true, it probably is?”
Her cousins nodded.
“I found a fresh paint can downstairs,” Aralyn said. “Don’t you think it’s a bit suspicious that the first place she shows us is absolutely perfect for us?”
“Well, it is her job,” Tiffany pointed out.
Natala looked thoughtful. “I get what Ari is saying. Something felt a little off, as soon as we got here. It’s too perfect a deal.”
“Think about it Tiff. The second floor has two apartments with their own baths. The third floor is like a two bedroom apartment. The ground floor is perfect for a guest space or even a fourth roommate. And there’s even a punching bag ring in the basement, which I hope to get.”
“You think this is a setup?” Tiffany asked quietly. “You think Grandpa set it up?”
Aralyn shook her head. “Think closer to home.”
“This feels female,” Natala said.
Tiffany’s eyes widened. “You think Mom had something to do with it?”
“Honey has plenty of influence in the company, you know that. We’ve been talking about this since November. That gives her plenty of time to buy a place that meets our needs, have it cleaned it up and ready to present when we need it. It even has a garden for Nat to grow some herbs. It’s close enough to the bus line for Nat, it’s only 20 minutes from our folks, and close to the community college. It’s too perfect.”
Tiffany nodded. “It all makes sense. Why would she interfere?”
“To make sure we don’t end up in a crap hole,” Nat answered. “But we haven’t even looked at the rent.”
Tiffany opened the folder and glanced through them. “It’s on the slightly higher end, but it is within our budget. Suspiciously so. So what do we do now?”
“Nat?” Aralyn asked her. “What are you getting?”
Natala closed her eyes and concentrated for several moments. “I think we should do it,” she said. “It feels right.”
“The second floor would be perfect for me and Nat,” Aralyn mused. “Separate bathrooms, so if Dean or Cam is around, we aren’t all walking in on each other in the shower.”
Tiffany nodded. “I wouldn’t mind the third floor. Extra space and all.”
“The ground floor would be perfect for a guest space, too. Nat can grow some stuff come spring. The basement could be our workout space. The garage would hold the bikes, or 4-Runner, but probably not both of them. You’d have to shift around in the driveway a lot.,” Natala said.
“It could work,” Tiffany said, and Aralyn nodded.
"And no one minds Honey's tampering?" Aralyn asked. Her cousins nodded. “All right, then,” she said. “I think we found our place.”
***
Cam hurried out to his Jeep. If he didn’t hustle, he’d be late for class. There had been a power outage in the night, and his alarm clock had reset.
Tossing his books inside, he started to climb in when he noticed the back tire. Taking a good look, his heart sunk. It was flatter than a pancake and would cost him fifteen minutes to get it changed. He wondered if he could take Dean’s car. Dean didn’t have class until ten; and Dean could change the tire on the Jeep.
That’s when he noticed the second back tire was also flat.
“Oh, come on,” he groaned. He knelt down and took a good look, his eyes widening. The tires had been slashed.
Mail tampering was one thing but tire slashing was definitely personal. Who was out to get him?
Meet the cast in full & see the family tree!
***
Author’s Notes
- A huge yeee-haa to Ronda, my lovely editor who helps keep me on track!
- Holy smokes, this is my 10th Jixaversary! 10 years as a Jix Author! I never would have thought that a possibility when I wrote my first Trixie fanfic way back. A HUGE thank you to everyone who has supported me, past and present editors, the Jix community especially my fellow Authors and Mods and my WWW girls, who provide an excellent sounding board for ideas and often help me decide which direction to go in when I waffle. Here's to another ten years of fanfic! I promise I have things working in both the Spooked and Shoot 'Em Up Universes but I don't know when they'll surface...
- Word Count, 1969
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