Caterpillar, a Paranormal Romance With a Touch of Horror (26 page)

“That’s the only possible explanation.  I mean, seriously.”  Then something occurred to Rainn.  “What do you mean ‘he says not’?  You
told
Merv you thought he ordered a bride?”

“It just popped out,” I defended.

After a full minute of stunned, mouth-gaping silence, Rainn burst into laughter.  She threw her head back and guffawed.  She even leaned back in the chair and stomped her feet in mirth.  When her amusement subsided enough for her to speak, she managed to squeeze out, “You
told
Merv you thought he ordered a bride!”  Then more peals of laughter.  By that point, I was feeling sorry for Marvin and really regretting my earlier faux pas with him.  

“Alright, alright.  Enough about Merv.  I’ve got to get ready for my first showing.  I’m running late as it is and I’ve got a busy day.  Can you print a few things for me?”  Finally, Rainn calmed enough to get down to business. 

I checked my e-mail.  It was packed.  It took me a while, but I managed to respond to all the ones that needed immediate attention.  The rest would have to wait. 

I was really, really feeling bad about the incident with Marvin, so bad I pulled out a blank note from my desk drawer, ones I typically used for clients, and started jotting an apology.  Merv wasn’t my favorite person, but I was never comfortable with hurting someone’s feelings, however inadvertently.

I stuffed the note into the envelope, scribbled Marvin’s name on the front, got up and crept to the door.  I peeked out, stealth my main objective.  I listened and when I heard Marvin’s voice somewhere toward the front, I snuck around the corner and headed to his office.

The door was pulled up, but not completely shut.  I could see that a light was on so I pushed it open, stepped inside and then pushed it shut behind me.  I tiptoed around his desk and laid the card in his chair.  I turned to leave, but a book that was peeking out from under some papers on his desk caught my eye.  On the cover was the Pagan symbol that had been left at the crime scenes. 

I felt that buzzing feeling you get when all the blood drains away from your brain and you get lightheaded.  I was reaching for the book when I heard Marvin’s voice and his heavy footfall coming closer.  I quickly crossed the room, slid through the door and pulled it shut behind me then went around the back hall, retracing my steps to my office.

Once there, I closed my door behind me and leaned up against it.  I wasn’t sure what I thought I would keep out that way, but it made me feel better just the same.  I took several deep calming breaths and thought about my next step.  I knew that if I was to help uncover the person behind the killings, I would need to use my gift to identify him.  I would have to touch Marvin and see into his soul. 

A chill raced through me.  That was not something I ever, ever wanted to do, but desperate times called for desperate measures and these were certainly desperate times. 

I looked at my watch.  I still had time before my first showing.  I poked my head out the door and listened.  Marvin was obviously still talking to someone so I decided to do a little recon and give him time to go back to his office. 

I logged on to the multiple listings service and looked up Merv’s listings.  I wasn’t sure what I was looking for or what I might find, but I figured if it was important, it would jump out at me.

Sure enough, I saw something suspicious right off the bat.  One of Merv’s listings was the A1A building, the business that Carter had rented the lamps from.  Surely that was more than a coincidence. 

I brought out a sticky pad and made notes.  None of his other listings seemed suspicious, but I kept on with my research.  I looked up the showing schedule for my listings next and discovered that Marvin had shown each of the houses a couple of weeks prior to me finding a body there. 

My heart was racing.  Although I felt like I had enough circumstantial evidence to at least spark some official interest in Marvin, I knew what I needed to do for both me and Tegan to be satisfied.  I’d have to go and look anyway. 

I took another deep breath and repeated my earlier exercise in getting to Marvin’s office undetected.  I thought the element of surprise would work in my favor.  When I got to his office, though, the door was closed—completely—and locked.  He must’ve left.  He’d slipped out while I was uncovering damning evidence.

Frustration welled within me.  I’d have to wait and catch him the next time he was in the office.  I went back to my office and gathered my things and headed out to my first showing.

The property I was showing first was just across town.  It was a condo located in a complex that catered to the young, eccentric crowd.

I was stopped at a red light when I first noticed the dark blue sedan behind me.  At first I didn’t pay much attention.  It wasn’t until I’d made two turns that I noticed the blue car was still behind me.  It followed me into my next left then my right and the last left as well.  Sometimes there was one car between us, sometimes three.  But the blue car was always somewhere behind me, though.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up when I turned into the complex and saw the blue sedan drive slowly past the entrance.  The windows were tinted and I couldn’t get a good look at the driver, but it gave me the creeps.  I wondered if it could be Merv. 

Unease prickled along my spine as I let myself into the condo and did my usual prep.  I checked each room.  No dead bodies.  That was a relief.  It made me feel like I was already ahead of the game.

At fifteen minutes past eleven, I was beginning to get impatient with the clients I had yet to even meet.  I was digging through my attaché for their cell number when I heard a knock at the door.  I opened it and saw a couple standing on the other side.  If they happened to be the Conroys, I totally understood why they hadn’t wanted to meet at the office prior to the showing.  They wouldn’t want to be identified after they disposed of my body.

Please don’t let these be my clients, God.  Please,
I prayed silently.

The male-female couple had a fashion sense that leaned very obviously toward the grim.  The male was tall and skinny and deathly pale with jet black hair.  He wore black lipstick, lots of black eyeliner, and black nail polish.  His face looked like a pin cushion with all its silver accoutrements.  His pasty arms and neck were covered with the blue-black tattoos I’d always associated with prison. 

The girl that accompanied him could’ve been his sister.  She looked almost identical to him, only shorter.  Her inky hair was cut and styled exactly like his and the rest of her appearance was equally monochromatic and macabre.  They were carbon copies right down to their black t-shirts and baggy black pants. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Conroy?”  If not, maybe I was being targeted in a Goth movement to eradicate color, one pastel at a time.  

Rather than speaking, the two nodded simultaneously in answer to my question.  I didn’t extend my hand for obvious reasons.  I merely stepped to the side and gestured for them to enter. 

I shut the door behind them and started toward the living area to begin the showing.  I turned to speak to them, but my opening sentence was cut short.

“This condominium—” My words were cut short when I turned and saw that both the Conroys were holding cameras.  One was a digital camcorder, the other a digital camera and they were both aimed at me.   “Excuse me, but what’s going on here?”

“We want to capture the raw footage of the next body you find,” Mr. Conroy offered in a low monotone that couldn’t have matched his appearance more perfectly.  

It only took an instant for his words to register with my brain.  And then anger set in.  “I bet you aren’t even in the market, are you?”

“Uh, uh,” Mr. Conroy stuttered.  I could only assume he hadn’t thought we would talk
at all
and, therefore, hadn’t bothered to rehearse any kind of lies about their presence. 

After a short pause, I decided niceties were not something I was capable of.  There were limits to what I’d put up with to preserve client relations.  “Out!”  I nearly shouted, making shooing motions with my hands.

“Let us take some pictures of the rooms and then we’ll leave,” Mrs. Conroy said.

“Absolutely not.”

“The dark spirits want us to document the ritual.  Believe me, you don’t want to make them angry,” she said.

“I don’t care who wants you to document what,
Mrs. Conroy,
if that’s even your real name.”  I was getting madder by the second.  “Out, I said.”

After I herded them to the door and shut and locked it behind them, I stood, fists clenched in outrage. 
The audacity!

I realized that, as a result of my semi-celebrity status, I was going to have to revamp my screening process.  Technically, we were supposed to get everyone pre-qualified through our lender before we took them to see a house, but no one really adhered to that rule.  I could see that was going to have to change. 

I piddled inside the condo for a few minutes, giving the Conroys plenty of time to get out of the lot then I locked up and headed out. 

As I was walking toward my car, I heard the click of a camera.  I looked up and saw the Conroys hunkering down behind a boxwood bush.  I resisted the urge to flip them the bird.  That would’ve been a bad idea for many reasons, not the least of which being that it would be caught on camera.  Knowing my luck, it’d end up on the local news.  That’d get me fired for sure.  Then I’d be known all over as the bird-flipping Realtor who finds dead bodies and discriminates against the monochromatic.

I stomped the last few steps to my car, flung the door open, hopped in then slammed the door shut.  I waited a few seconds, getting a firm grip on my temper, before pulling out.  I didn’t want the temptation to run over the Conroys to overtake me.

I was two turns out of the parking lot when I caught sight of what looked like the same blue sedan I’d seen earlier.  I was almost positive it was the same car. 

I saw the stop light ahead turn yellow so I slowed down.  In my head, I replayed several theatrical car chases I’d seen in movies over the years.  Just as the light turned red, I floored the gas pedal and sped through the intersection, making a left instead of going straight like I normally would have.  Once through it, I took a right then another left.  I put as much distance as I could between my Toyota and the blue sedan.  I kept glancing in my rearview mirror, but never saw any other sign of them tailing me.  It seemed I had lost them.

Chapter Twenty-Four

I decided that doing the predictable thing and going back to the office might not be the best idea, so I changed my route to take me to Panera Bread.  I could eat a late lunch and use my laptop there.  It was one of the advantages I liked best of being a Realtor: flexibility to work from almost anywhere.

I parked, got out of the driver’s side and reached back in for my attaché.  I was vigilant as I crept across the parking lot toward the sidewalk in front of Panera.  I felt like a criminal keeping an eye out for the po-po.  My eyes scanned my surroundings continually, looking for the Conroys, the blue sedan, Marvin or anyone else I might find suspicious. 

I had just stepped up onto the sidewalk when I saw the blue sedan pull into a space across the parking lot.  I watched to see if someone would exit the vehicle. 

Not watching where I was going, I ran right into a light pole. 

My temple and cheekbone made contact with the metal column.  A muffled “bong” reverberated through the pole and vibrated through my body like I was a tuning fork.  I literally saw stars for a second or two.  I stumbled back a few steps and, as I tried to right myself, my foot slipped off the sidewalk and landed in the mouth of a storm drain. 

My ankle turned and the heel of my shoe snapped off, further throwing me off balance.  As if in slow motion, I could feel my body leaning precariously toward the parking lot.  I flapped my arms in an attempt to steady myself, but at that point, nothing could stop me from going down. 

My purse went one way, my attaché went the other.  Legs and arms flew until the pavement stopped me.  When I hit, I sort of skidded and rolled.  All in all, I managed to scrape and sully nearly every part of my body, starting with my chin.  As it turns out, chins are a very effective way to stop forward momentum, however, if the position is just right, which mine must’ve been.  I was vaguely aware of the crunch of hard plastic, which registered in my brain as the probable death of my laptop.  Better that than bones, I supposed.