Euphoria Lane (4 page)

Meg nodded. “Roxie is taking bets on when Harry is going to join Bernice in hell.” Her face lit up. “I put fifty dollars down on tonight, before the meeting is over. In the heart, with a hunting knife.” She touched the middle of her chest. “The location where most people have a heart. If you knock on his chest, though, you’ll probably hear an echo.”

Andi couldn’t keep her eyes off Roxie, the spandex queen turned bookie. She reminded Andi of one of those crazed Wild West townspeople who enjoyed a good lynching. While the rest of the library crowd waited, their eyes full of rage, hers twinkled with excitement.

The metallic click of the doorknob turning caught the crowd’s attention. They turned to see who would enter next. So did Andi.

Luke strode in, briefcase in hand. Her stomach lurched. She tore her gaze away, not wanting to make eye contact again. No matter how strong her attraction for him remained, she refused to entertain the thought of rekindling an old flame.

Okay, forest fire.

The man worked for Harry, after all. Not that Luke would ever take her back. He had made that perfectly clear when he dumped her.

He took a seat at the long table up front and popped open his briefcase, appearing busy and professional. According to the nameplates, the board sat between Luke and the security guard.

If the killer decided to make an appearance, would Luke become a target, too?

She hadn’t considered the possibility before. The thought didn’t sit well with her now.

The door swung open again and the beady-eyed president entered. He stiffened his spine and held his head high. The only thing missing from his grand entrance was the red carpet.

“Harry,” Andi mumbled in disgust.

“See the woman strolling down the aisle behind him?” Meg whispered, glancing at a woman about forty years old with professionally bleached blonde hair clipped a few inches below her shoulders. She wore an attractive floral dress and expertly applied makeup. At her side she carried a wide-brimmed, white straw hat. The kind you would expect Southern women to wear to garden parties. “That’s Valerie. She’s married to Paul, the computer geek closing the door. Rumor has it she married him because she hoped he would be the next Bill Gates.”

Valerie’s hips swayed with each move, inviting the men to watch her walk down the aisle. Her double-D cups invited them to drool. Andi caught two women elbowing their husbands in the ribs, forcing them to stop staring.

After closing the door, Valerie’s husband turned toward the room. He wore a wrinkled polo shirt over tan knee-length shorts. As he followed his wife, Paul kept his shoulders hunched over and his gaze toward the floor. Either he chose to ignore the attention his wife received, or he kept his mind immersed in his own thoughts.

Meg leaned closer. “Valerie is working her way toward leaving her husband for Harry.” She glanced about as if making sure no one heard. “One night after a board meeting, he started bragging about his millions in stocks. I swear there were dollar signs flashing in that woman’s eyes.”

“Are they having an affair?”

“Heaven’s sake, no. Roxie overhead Valerie talking to a friend. She wants Harry’s money. She’s not going to give anything away for free. She plans to flirt her way into a proposal and then worry about divorcing Paul.”

Andi grimaced. Marrying Harry for money was the Euphoria Lane equivalent of selling your soul to the devil.

Like the homeowners in attendance, Luke worried the killer might make an appearance, and he had no intention of dying for his job. Unlike the homeowners, he refused to bet on when the next board member might meet his, or her, maker. He had even taken measures to make sure no one died during the meeting. The two extra security guards he had hired stood behind the crowd, watching over the angry neighbors.

Harry banged the gavel. “Time to sit or leave,” he barked. With a glance down at his paperwork, his toupee slid forward. He scowled at the sniggering crowd, adjusted his hairpiece, and called the meeting to order.

Luke ran his hand over his face to conceal his smile.

For the first hour, he watched as Andi’s expressions reflected her boredom over listening to tedious decisions regarding landscaping and budget issues. Then came the time for the audience to address the board. She shifted in her chair and her eyes widened with interest. Harry announced that each homeowner wishing to speak to the board would be given three minutes to state their concerns.

Mr. Decker, a retired cowboy of about fifty in worn jeans and a felt Stetson, stood tall and proud. Judging by his deep, leathery tan, he’d spent most of his life working outdoors. His scowl matched Harry’s, brow line for brow line and sneer for sneer.

“It’s
you
again.” Harry regarded his paperwork. “Due to our lengthy agenda tonight and the fact we have the room reserved only until nine, each person will have just one minute to speak.”

Luke’s gut twisted. That wasn’t right. They deserved at least three minutes to vent. Perhaps one of them could get through to the man. “Harry—”

Harry narrowed his eyes into snakelike slits as he directed an intense stare at Luke. “The rules allow for changes when the president sees fit, and tonight I see fit.”

The man had memorized every rule and regulation. He knew them better than Luke. “Continue,” Luke said, admitting defeat.

The cowboy clenched his fists at his sides. “You fined me because there was a carpet cleaning van parked in the fire lane out front of my condo.”

Valerie ran a perfectly polished nail over the condensation collecting on her water bottle. “You should have parked your vehicle elsewhere and made room for the cleaning van in your driveway.” She smirked at Harry. “Right?”

The board president winked, then coughed and shuffled his papers, as if the audience wasn’t bright enough to notice the exchange. Luke resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

Valerie’s husband, Paul, kept his head buried in his own copies of the paperwork throughout the meeting. If he lifted his head even once, Luke reflected, he would probably catch his wife flirting with Harry. Realization dawned on Luke. Paul might know or suspect his wife had her eyes set on Harry. Did he choose to keep his eyes down on purpose?

“I was out of town that week.” The cowboy’s words grew more pronounced, along with the vein protruding from his temple. “One of the neighbors had their carpets cleaned,
not me
.”

Harry’s thinning mustache twitched. “You have a history of breaking the rules. You’ll need to
prove
you were out of town and that you didn’t hire the service.”

“
You
prove I
did
hire them! You can’t, because I didn’t.”

Harry lifted a picture. “I have photographic evidence that the van was parked in front of your condo. That’s all the proof I need.” The timer chirped.

The horror in Andi’s eyes reflected Luke’s own. This couldn’t go on.

Mr. Decker spat an obscenity and stormed down the aisle. The odds of a cowboy in Arizona owning a truck and carrying a shotgun in that truck were quite high.

Luke jumped up to follow him. He rushed down the aisle and caught up with the man at the exit.

“Mr. Decker,” Luke pressed his hand against the wooden door to keep the man from opening it. “I’ll take care of your violation,” he stated, his voice low enough to keep others from overhearing. “I promise it will go away.”

The man studied him for a long moment. “Harry might make
you
go away.”

“That’s a daily threat.” Luke offered a wry smile, the only reassurance he could give the man, and then stepped back from the door.

The cowboy’s shoulders relaxed, and he nodded before completing his escape.

“Unit 1210,” Valerie sang.

Luke recognized Andi’s unit number and headed back to the front table. He strove to keep his expression stoic, not wanting anyone to guess how worried he was over the verbal exchange about to take place.

Andi hesitated, then slowly stood. “That’s me.”

“The timer started fifteen seconds ago.” Harry’s stare bore holes through her.

Luke clenched his teeth to keep from interrupting. Interfering would make matters worse for them both.

Andi looked like a timid Dorothy addressing the wizard for the first time. “I’m sure you are all reasonable adults . . .” she murmured.

The crowd snickered. Luke suppressed a groan while returning to his seat. The active members of the board were anything but reasonable. And Valerie’s husband was nothing more than a poodle told to sit and not speak. Paul ran for the board because his wife told him to. They needed a yes-man.

Undaunted, Andi continued. “I just moved in and wasn’t aware that you held everyone to such a strict interpretation of the rules.”

“Not our problem,” Harry snapped. “Next.”

Luke wanted to knock the man off his chair, but gripped his pen tighter instead. His need to protect Andi took him by surprise. He hadn’t known he still harbored such strong feelings for her.

“The timer hasn’t gone off. And I’m not finished!” The papers she gripped shook in her hands. “My father didn’t know he would be breaking a rule by not moving his car into my driveway after my sister left the complex.”

Harry’s face contorted into a menacing scowl at the mention of her sister. “Once again, miss, this is not my problem.” Harry sneered like a pit bull. “Perhaps you should keep a closer eye on your relatives. They have a tendency to park themselves where they shouldn’t.”

“Park themselves?”

Ding.

“Time’s up!” Harry’s gavel hit the striker plate. “Next!”

The security guard standing near the table stepped forward, and Andi quickly sat down.

Meg leaned close to speak to her. Luke found relief in the fact Andi wasn’t alone. He had always considered Meg a nice woman, even though he found her boundless energy a drain on his nerves during every conversation they had.

He also felt a twinge of envy. Once upon a time, Andi would have turned to him for emotional support. Back then he could have provided it, too. Not now. Not with his hands tied.

Andi crumpled her papers in one fist. “I can’t believe he’s getting away with this!”

Her voice rang through the room louder than she probably had intended, and everyone turned to stare.

“The audience will keep their comments to themselves,” Harry commanded, “or you’ll be removed.” He directed every word at Andi.

The second the meeting ended, Andi turned to Meg, “Why haven’t you all banded together to throw those dictators off the board?”

The cheery pep drained from Meg’s face. “It’s not as easy as you think. People have tried. No one’s been able to get enough signatures to recall the board because they’re afraid of retaliation, and rightly so. Bernice and Harry got even with anyone who opposed them.” She sighed. “A couple of brave souls were voted on to the board a few years back, but the evil duo chased them off and then appointed their own puppet replacements.”

Andi shook her head. “That doesn’t sound legal. This is America. People have rights.”

“This is a homeowners’ association. No one has rights. There are loopholes, and the board uses every one of them to their advantage. One woman spent her entire savings taking them to court for harassment. She lost and had to pay their legal fees, too.”

Andi felt her blood pressure rising. “It’s almost impossible not to break a rule. There must be over fifty.”

“And many of them are so broad the board can define them as they wish. I received a violation letter for leaving a plastic baggie on my patio table. The board considered it a ‘storage container’ and there’s no storage allowed on the porch. Common sense tells you that rule was written to keep large storage bins off patios, but it wasn’t written clearly, so the board gets to define the terms as they please.”

“There must be some way to stop them.”

The nurse raised a brow. “Short of blowing a hole in them?”

Andi drove the short distance back to her condo, condemning Harry and his cronies every second of the way. There was no need to check her watch—she knew her sister wouldn’t be home from work until well after midnight.

She slowed to ease through the gated entrance to Euphoria. Images of Luke flitted across her mind as if she were watching a movie on the big screen. Since the moment he had stepped into her condo, she had tried not to think of him, but often failed. They used to talk for hours without running out of topics. What they had shared had been special. She would never understand why he threw it away.

After turning onto the private road, her mind wandered back to that night’s meeting. She wondered what Luke had said to the cowboy to calm him down. How a mild-mannered, diplomatic man like Luke could work for Harry was beyond her comprehension.

Pressing the remote that triggered the garage door, she heard the initial grinding of gears. The door rose two feet before it stopped.

“No!” She pressed the button again. The door lowered. She pressed it again. The door lifted two feet off the ground, then stopped. “NO!”

She climbed out of her Mustang and began searching for a quick way to force it to lift. Nothing. Not inside the garage, not outside the garage. Fixing the door was beyond her capability.

“Not now!” She screamed as she kicked her tire. “If I don’t move my car inside, that jerk is going to fine me for not parking in the garage.” She tried again. The door lowered, then rose two feet . . . and stopped.

“No, no, no, no, no!”

Hideous laughter rose behind her. She twisted around and a flash lit the interior of a dark sedan. Camera in hand, Harry leaned out his car window while driving slowly past her garage. “You and that tramp sister of yours don’t belong here in Euphoria. You’re both leaving; one way or another!”

“Can’t you get here any sooner?” Andi leaned against the counter, listening to the receptionist for Bob’s Fix-It apologize for the third time. “All right, my sister will be waiting here on Thursday between noon and three for your repairman.” She dropped the receiver into its cradle, moaned, and returned to work mixing sugar-cookie batter in the stainless steel bowl.