Euphoria Lane (2 page)

He barged in the second she tugged open the door. “I heard about the dead woman. It’s all over the news.” He marched past her and inspected the boxes lining the walls. “I see you haven’t finished unpacking. I think you should come home with me until the murderer is caught.”

Andi had no intention of running home to Mommy and Daddy. She didn’t care how many nightmares she would have from finding the dead body. “Dad, I’m not going anywhere. This
is
my home.”

“Then I’ll bring you my shotgun. Keep it handy.”

Andi shook her head. “Jessie has an arsenal that would make an arms dealer jealous. I wouldn’t be surprised if she had weapons of mass destruction hidden behind the television set.”

“What about bullets?”

“She has a few hundred of those, too.” Andi planted a quick kiss on his cheek. “I need a pot of coffee. How about you?”

“Sure. And while it brews, you can tell me what’s going on around here. Jessie must have talked to the detective in charge. I want the facts, not the flimflam-coated media.”

“I’ll share what little I know.” Andi shuffled her pink slippers into the kitchen as her father followed close behind. Since she made a habit of wearing oversize T-shirts and shorts to bed, she had felt no need to grab a robe. She checked to make sure the coffee maker had been properly prepared the night before and pushed the “On” button.

Her father leaned against the counter and folded his tan, hairy arms across his thick chest. The salt-and-pepper hair only added to his commanding air of authority.

“The woman’s death was most likely an accident.” Andi opened the refrigerator and searched for her flavored creamer. “The dead woman probably leaned too far off her porch, fell, and hit her head on something hard in the trash.” She found the bottle nestled behind a gallon of low-fat milk, cashew chicken leftovers, and cherry pie.

Her father’s grimace said he wasn’t satisfied. “Is the detective in charge
convinced
it was an accident?”

She debated whether or not she should tell him the whole truth, then figured he’d know if she didn’t. “Jessie didn’t speak to him.” Before her father could respond, Andi added, “But she said there’s nothing to worry about.”

Or did she say not to worry unless she told her otherwise?

“According to the neighbors, the entire community hated the woman who died. If it wasn’t an accident, it was an isolated incident.”

He scowled. “You think she deserved to die?”

“Of course not. I’m trying to tell you
I’m
not in any danger. There isn’t a serial killer out there randomly selecting his victims.” If this conversation continued, she knew he would pack up her bags and drag her home. She needed a diversion. With a glance over at her new white-linen sofa and matching pillows decorated with a red leaf accent pattern, she changed the subject. “Thank you again for paying for the moving van and buying my new living room sofa.”

“It’s my pleasure, sweetie. I know you can’t afford nice things on a teacher’s salary.”

He was right, but hearing the words spoken out loud made her cringe. “I could always become a police officer like Jessie. Not that they’re paid a lot more than teachers,” Andi added.

“You, a cop?” Her father laughed. “I don’t think so. Besides, your mother would have a heart attack. It’s hard enough for her to handle Jessie’s career.” He released a slight sigh. “I am so glad your mother is out of town with your other sisters visiting Grandma Shirley right now. They would all be worried sick if they knew about the stiff in the dumpster. That’s the last thing I need.”

A hissing sound signaled the completion of the brewing cycle. Andi poured the steaming coffee into the ceramic mugs and handed one to her father. “You can sit at the dining room table. Just toss the empty boxes onto the floor.”

While he proceeded to judge the contents of the mug and walked into the other room, she poured flavored creamer into her cup and then joined him. He wore a huge grin on his face.

“Did I miss a punch line?” Confused by his change in mood, she eased down onto the closest chair, careful not to spill.

“No. I just wish I had been here to watch your sister work the crime scene until the officers on duty arrived. That must have been quite a show.” He drank from the hot mug and then nodded his approval.

“You didn’t miss anything.” Jessie sauntered in wearing red sweatpants and a matching Cardinals football jersey. Her disheveled, shoulder-length hair hung over one eye. “I couldn’t help. I’m working undercover. The department needed a woman to pose as a waitress.”

He turned to his oldest daughter. “What’s being undercover got to do with a death in your condo complex?”

“It means I can’t let anyone in the community know I’m a police officer. My undercover assignment is only a few miles away.”

Andi had heard of the Nighthawk Diner, but never ventured inside. The parking lot full of motorcycles made her nervous. “Jessie’s working at one of those eating establishments where they exploit their female employees. She is required to wear tiny skirts and necklines that plunge so low you can tell her belly button is an innie, not an outie.”

Jessie poured herself a cup of coffee. “The restaurant has a reputation for peddling more than hash browns.”

“Drugs and prostitution,” Andi clarified before sipping from her mug.

Their father shrugged. “I guess you have to work where you’re needed.”

Andi stared at him in disbelief. “Let me get this straight. I find a body, no murderer in sight, and you want to haul me home. Your other daughter is cavorting with perverted men while pretending to be a drug-dealing prostitute and you shrug it off? Jessie is your daughter, too. Why isn’t she receiving the overprotective-father routine?”

“Your sister is a police officer. She can take care of herself.” He looked her straight in the eye—his way of making sure she paid attention. “When Jessie draws it’s with an automatic, not a red grading pen.”

Andi knew there was no point in arguing. First, he was right. Jessie
was
better equipped to take care of herself. Second, Andi would always be considered the baby of the family. She was lucky he still didn’t remind her to look both ways before crossing the street.

He set down his mug, snatched the newspaper from the table, and headed down the hall.

“Life’s not fair. Get used to it,” Jessie teased while returning to the dining room table with a mug of coffee. The doorbell interrupted their conversation. “I’ll get it. You never know when an armed kindergartener might follow you home to raid the place.”

“Very funny,” Andi answered. “If that’s the mailman at the door, don’t shoot first and ask questions later, Dirty Harriet.”

Andi noticed her red pen at the end of the dining room table, next to her grade book. Looking at it reminded her that everyone in her family thought she couldn’t defend herself because she was only a teacher. She snatched it up with one quick move and shoved it into the pocket of her gray shorts.

A broken fan’s loud, obnoxious whine told her their father had found the bathroom.

Hoping the fan would prove to be a small fix, Andi sipped her coffee. A gruff male voice at the door caught her by surprise. Turning in her chair, she watched Jessie step aside to allow their visitor inside.

The man looked a lot like Andi’s school principal—a balding, short, older gentleman. His chestnut toupee sat askew on top of his natural gray hair. He also had the same tight, pinched expression her father wore whenever his hemorrhoids flared up.

A younger, taller man entered the foyer behind the older one. Recognition sparked deep within her. With his sandy-brown hair and welcoming smile, he resembled . . . Andi’s heart stopped. No. It couldn’t be. Yet she knew it
was
Luke Ryder. Her mind swirled in a dozen different directions.

Why is he here, in my home, after all these years? I haven’t seen him since my freshman year of college.

Their eyes met. His smile faded and his strong jaw tightened. “Andi . . .” Her name hung in the air like a mistake no one wanted to acknowledge. “It’s been a long time.”

“Luke . . .”

How long had it been since that night? Eight years? No. Nine.

Nine years since he said he couldn’t marry her and marched out of her dorm room.

Jessie’s gaze traveled between the two of them. “You know each other?”

Long work hours back then had kept Jessie from meeting Luke the half a dozen times he’d been at their family home for Sunday dinner. Since he had never officially proposed, the family knew only that Andi had once been serious about him. They had no clue
how
serious. She had been afraid that telling everyone about their plans before he proposed would bring bad luck. Looking back on things, she realized she might have had better luck carrying a black cat, stepping on cracks, and throwing mirrors while walking under a ladder.

She managed to pull her gaze away from his dark-brown eyes. “We knew each other in college. Luke, this is my sister, Jessie. She lives with me.”

A hesitant smile tugged at his lips before he shook Jessie’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m the property manager for Euphoria Lane Condominiums.” He turned to the older man. “This is Harry Fletcher, the HOA vice president.”

“President,” Harry interjected in a coarse, nasal tone. “I am now
president
of the homeowners’ association.” He acted as if he were the king of a rich, oil-producing country instead of a gated community made up of two hundred condominiums.

Luke studied an envelope on the clipboard he carried. “Andi, I heard you found Bernice yesterday.”

“Bernice?” Andi forced herself to focus on the conversation.

“The dead woman,” her sister clarified while eyeing the older man suspiciously. “Have we met before?”

“No.” Harry’s answer came too fast and too loud.

“I’m sure I’ve seen you somewhere before.” Jessie tapped her lips with her pointer finger as she studied the man.

“You have me mistaken for someone else,” he snapped.

Jessie grinned with obvious satisfaction when she remembered. She turned to Andi and twirled her hair the way she did whenever she wore her waitress uniform. Her undercover persona involved playing pretty and dumb.

Andi’s gaze traveled between Jessie and Harry. Understanding made its way into her consciousness, past the shock of seeing Luke again. The new board president was clearly a customer at the sleazy diner. A wave of trepidation rolled over her like a premonition.

Not sure what to think, Andi turned back to the man she had once loved. Emotional memories hit her full force. Feeling overwhelmed by the events of her first two days in her new home, Andi aimed for calm and collected. She gestured toward the living room.

“Would you like to sit down?”

“We won’t be taking up much of your time,” Luke said as he surveyed the condo. “Unpacking is always a huge job.”

She tried to see the room as he would. More than a dozen cardboard boxes lined the walls, their lids standing open, half gutted of their contents. Newspaper used for packing littered the carpet and tile. Piles of books and dishes took up room on counters and tabletops. She felt self-conscious and wished she were more organized. Her motto had always been, “Everything has a place—and one day I’ll put it there.”

This man, with his impeccable hair, tailored tan chinos, and long-sleeved black shirt, had always looked like he just stepped out of the pages of
GQ
. She always looked like she stepped off the cover of
MAD Magazine
.

I would have to see him again, after all these years, wearing a pink, oversize, “I-Love-Chocolate” T-shirt.

Embarrassed, Andi crossed her arms over her chest.

“You the welcome wagon?” Jessie tilted her head as if to get a better look at Luke. “Where’s the casserole?”

He glanced down at his clipboard again, but not before his expression gave away his discomfort. “No food today, ladies. Only my assurance Euphoria is a safe community. Since you were the one who found Bernice, I thought I should tell you nothing like this has ever happened here before. There’s no need to be alarmed by her unfortunate—”

“Stop pussyfooting around!” The older man snatched the envelope off the clipboard and shoved it at her. “We came over to give you this.”

Luke glared at him. “I wanted to handle this
my
way.”

Harry scoffed and turned on Andi. “We have rules here, Miss Stevenson. We maintain the value of our homes by adhering to those rules.”

She ripped open the envelope as Jessie peered over her shoulder. In large letters, the words WARNING and PARKING VIOLATION jumped out at her. She could feel her face redden.

This can’t be
.

“Why are you doing this to me?”

Luke jerked back. “It’s not personal. It’s my job.”

Andi sighed. “That is a private street out front. There’s no traffic. You honestly expected us to park a moving van a building away and haul everything over? No one does that.”

“It’s only a warning . . .” Luke insisted.

“A warning I shouldn’t be receiving,
Mr. Ryder
. I was told this Bernice woman might have been killed because of her unrelenting enforcement of the rules. She made enemies. I’m sure the rest of the board doesn’t want to follow in her footsteps.”

Luke creased his brow. “Did you hear a threat made against the board?”

“Not exactly,” she admitted. “If I had, I would have called the authorities. You know that.”

This time Harry’s gaze traveled between them. “Just how well do you two know each other?”

“Boys . . .” Jessie cooed. She looped her arm around Harry’s. “Why don’t we sit down and relax while you tell us how we can make this thing go away?”

“Let’s not!” Harry yanked his arm out of her reach as if she had a contagious disease. He glared at her. “Only respectable people are allowed to live in Euphoria.”

Oh, great! He thinks my sister is a drug-dealing hooker because she’s playing undercover waitress at the diner.

Jessie glared back at him.

Andi had never seen a standoff before, but she knew she was witnessing one now. Harry obviously wanted them out of his community, but Jessie wasn’t going to budge an inch.