Euphoria Lane (6 page)

Andi positioned the camera and pushed the button. After handing the camera back to Meg, she shot Luke a look of satisfaction. She must have felt like she was finally taking back control of her life. He was happy for her, although the ridiculous nature of the scene lingered in his mind.

“Right foot, kick. Take a sip. Left foot, kick. Take a sip.” The entire group lifted their drinks and Meg snapped off two more pictures before anyone noticed they hadn’t turned off the flash.

Luke grabbed for the camera, but missed when Meg dodged his efforts and hid the camera in her pants. He peered back through the fence, hoping no one had noticed.

Valerie squinted in their direction. “Hey, you! What are you doing? Are you spying on us?”

“Run!” Luke ordered as softly as he could manage under the circumstances. “She’s coming after you.”

As they raced over the grass, Luke waved over the fence. “It’s just me, Valerie. No need to be alarmed. I’m checking on the property as usual.”

“Oh, okay. I’m conducting my water aerobics class,” she said, sliding the margarita glass behind her. “We’d like some privacy, please.”

“No problem.” He waved his good-bye and strolled back to his car.

No problem?
Who am I kidding? The problems here are going from bad to worse. And we still have a murderer on the loose.

He glanced over his shoulder to make sure he was still alone.

On the way back from the pool, Andi spotted a small, wire-haired terrier. He darted across Meg’s driveway, dragging a string of sausages behind him.

“That’s Bernice’s dog.” Meg whistled. “Toto! Come here, boy.” She crept closer when he stopped to consider her, the sausages still hanging from his mouth. “Come here, boy. I’ll take you home to Reverend Nichols.”

“Reverend Nichols?”

Didn’t Jessie say Bernice’s last name was Nichols?

The dog backed away on his tiny paws. His ears pointed upward, ready to detect any movement in his direction.

Meg glanced in her direction. “Bernice’s son is a minister. Sort of. He left his position after a minor ‘situation’.” She held her palm out for the dog. “You poor thing,” she cooed, edging closer. “I bet you miss your mommy, even if no one else does.”

She took another step closer and the terrier took off like a tiny greyhound. Meg raced after him.

Andi raced after Meg. “Wait a minute!” This conversation was too interesting to let it drop. “The witch gave birth to a religious man?”

“Stranger things have happened . . . and usually do around here.” Meg followed the dog onto the grass, between two bushes, then back onto the street. They passed one building after another.

Toto dodged every attempt they made to capture him. Just when Andi decided to give up, the dog ran under a garage door that had been left open a few inches.

Meg gasped for air, then bent at the waist to whistle under the door. “Come here, Toto. I’ll take you home, boy.”

Both women crawled over the cement to spy under the garage door. An overhead bulb illuminated the inside. Professionally finished garage cabinets lined the wall. A work area and sink in the back appeared neat and tidy.

The aroma of a strong cleanser penetrated Andi’s nostrils and stung her eyes. She blinked repeatedly while searching for the dog. She spotted Toto sitting beside a freezer, chomping down on his stolen goods. A dozen or more sausages littered the surrounding cement. At least they knew where he’d found the meat.

“Looks like a doggie buffet,” Meg said.

“He has no reason to leave anytime soon, and I can’t squeeze under that door.” Andi stood and dusted off her jeans. “So tell me about Reverend Nichols. Why did he leave the church?”

Meg sat on the driveway, as if hoping the dog would change his mind and crawl out to her. “One of his parishioners caught him kissing a woman in their congregation and turned it into a scandal.”

“Interesting.” Andi had never known any religious men who left their church.

“The reverend is an okay guy. He’s the only sensible person on the HOA board. Unfortunately, he’s outnumbered by lunatics.”

Andi heard the metallic grinding of the gate opening, followed by the purr of a car’s engine. A black BMW entered through the main gate.

Meg jumped to her feet. “That’s Chris Owens. This is his condo.”

Both women stepped aside to make room for the vehicle.

“Chris is a veterinarian. His wife, Tess, is also on the board. She missed last night’s meeting,” Meg whispered. “If he wasn’t married, I’d book myself an appointment at his office and pretend to be a poodle in heat.” She smiled and waved at the man who stared through the window in obvious confusion.

The dark-haired, clean-cut doggie doctor killed the engine and climbed out of his car. Andi was surprised to discover that the tall, broadly built man wore gray slacks and a crisp white shirt. She would have thought a veterinarian’s patients would cover him with pet dander and dog drool while resisting long needles and objects stuck up galaxies better left unexplored.

Perhaps he showered and changed clothes at the office
, she mused.

“Meg, what’s up?” The apple cheeks brightening his round face made him appear ten years younger than the lines fanning from his eyes revealed him to be.

“Hi, Doc. This is Andi, our new neighbor.”

He took in her dust-covered jeans and pastel-yellow T-shirt and managed a smile despite the hint of disapproval in his expression.

Andi gestured toward the garage. “We were trying to capture Bernice’s dog.”

“He ran inside, but we couldn’t squeeze under the door. Not that we
would
,” Meg added quickly.

Doctor Owens lifted his keychain, pressed a button, and the garage closed, trapping the dog inside. “He’s been running around here for the past couple of days. Thanks for cornering him. I’ll take a look at him and make sure he’s in good health before I call Reverend Nichols. It’s the least I can do after . . . what happened to Bernice.”

“That’s nice of you.” Meg nudged Andi forward. “We’ll get out of your hair. Say hello to the missus for me.”

He offered a simple nod. “I will when she calls. She’s visiting her mother.”

The front gate squealed as the arms opened again. A Prius entered and drove past them.

Why would anyone choose to live close to the main entrance to the complex?

The sound of the gate opening and closing throughout the day would drive Andi nuts.

Perhaps it was the only unit available at the time the doggie doctor bought his condo.

Before the gate could close, a sedan barreled through the opening.

It headed straight for them.

“Run!” Andi screamed, pushing Meg out of the way.

The sedan swerved, rammed the fire hydrant five feet from where they stood, rolled on its side, and came to rest against a “No Parking” sign. Water shot up like a geyser, pounding down on the grass, the road, and the smashed car.

Andi peered through the car’s front window. Her jaw fell open.

Harry, sitting in the driver’s seat, pressed his hand to his forehead. He gaped at her as if he’d never seen her before, then passed out.

Luke had just finished checking in with the company secretary when he heard a squeal of tires followed by a loud thud and female shrieks. He ran full speed across the property, toward the front gate. Curious neighbors followed in his wake. The first sign he was closing in on the source of the trouble was the gusher shooting into the sky. As he ran closer, he watched it rain down on the passenger side of Harry’s wrecked car before flowing onto the grass and asphalt.

He found Andi huddled in conversation with Meg—away from the splash zone. The wind feathered her hair while concern revealed its presence with lines furrowed in her brow.

She reached out to grab his arm. “It’s Harry. He mumbled something about his brakes.”

“We already called for help.” Meg hugged herself tight. “Doctor Owens is looking for a blanket. We both decided it was best not to drag him out of the car. He’s safe until the paramedics arrive.”

Luke peered into the driver’s side of the car and found Harry passed out over the steering wheel. His chest lifted and fell. At least he was still breathing. There also weren’t any signs of blood or broken limbs. Before Luke could decide what action to take, the high-pitched sound of a siren pierced the sky. He jogged over to open the gate for the ambulance and fire engine.

The paramedics filed out of the ambulance as he returned to Andi’s side. “What happened?”

“It was quite a sight.” Meg pointed to the front of the complex. “Harry raced through the gate and rammed right into the hydrant.” She slammed her hands together with dramatic flair.

“The firefighters will cap the hydrant,” he said, for lack of anything better to say. There wasn’t much he could do other than to keep the growing crowd of onlookers from interfering with rescue efforts. He watched the paramedics take Harry’s vitals. The fact he hadn’t yet opened his eyes worried Luke.

Doctor Owens stood silently in front of his condo, still clutching the blanket he had retrieved, but was no longer needed. Being a veterinarian, his skills weren’t required.

Luke rolled up the cuffs of his white, long-sleeved shirt and went to work inspecting the sedan’s metal underbelly—now exposed by the accident. He couldn’t find any obvious signs of brake tampering, but he wasn’t a mechanic. He hated to think that Bernice’s killer had gone after another board member, but anything was possible.

A police cruiser rolled through the open gate and Andi headed to the location where the officer parked. Luke trusted her to mention the brakes.

“Wait! Wait!” Valerie, wearing a flimsy black bathing suit cover and gold-beaded sandals, handed her empty crystal glass to one of her friends who had come to watch the show. “Tell my husband I went to the hospital with Harry. Tell him I had to go. I was the only board member here.”

Luke joined Meg, who was waiting for Andi to return. He overheard the younger paramedic telling Valerie that she would have to follow them in her own car. She gripped his shirt and lied about being Harry’s only living relative. He reluctantly relented, and she climbed inside the ambulance with his assistance. The glint in her eye revealed her pride. Once again, she had manipulated a situation to get her way.

“Valerie doesn’t know we took the pictures,” Meg whispered when Andi reached her side.

“You’re right,” Andi agreed. “She totally ignored us.”

“Unbelievable.” Luke shook his head. “You are still going to carry out your plan?”

Andi tilted her head. “We haven’t had a chance to discuss it yet, but let me ask you a question: Do you think Harry is going to leave us alone now that he’s had a brush with death?”

Meg lifted her chin defiantly. “Did you see him sprout a halo in the last ten seconds?”

“I didn’t see horns and a tail either.” Luke knew they had every right to dislike Harry intensely, but he also knew car accidents could change a person. “All I’m asking is that you wait and see how Harry acts when he returns home. If he’s up to his old tricks, I’ll send the violation letter to Valerie.”

Andi used the toe of her tennis shoes to tap the water running down the street before answering. “You promise that the first time he acts like a complete heel, you’ll send the letter?”

Luke promised, hoping it wouldn’t be necessary. Sending a violation letter to Valerie would unleash the storm of the millennium.

Meg chuckled. “And send a violation letter to Harry as well.” She pointed to the car. “He parked in a fire lane, vandalized the property when he destroyed the hydrant, and flooded the common area. If Andi has to receive violation letters for circumstances beyond her control, then so does Harry.”

Andi listened to the joyful sound of grinding gears as her garage door lifted above two feet. She exhaled in relief. Luke had fixed it. Where was Mr. Handy-with-a-Wrench when she’d needed her margarita machine fixed in college?

Luke stepped back inside her condo, wiping his hands on the now-greasy rag. He strode through the kitchen as if he owned it. “A wheel came off the track.”

Andi tossed him a clean hand towel. “Thanks,” she offered in a noncommittal tone.

Although she was grateful for his help, she hated to be in his debt. The opposite had been true back in college. They’d helped each other quite often back then. She taught him how to organize his life and he cooked for her. His signature dish, Pasta Hamburger Surprise, quickly became a staple. The “surprise” was an extra ingredient or two he would throw in, which was anything left over in the refrigerator. Emeril Lagasse had nothing to worry about, but she enjoyed every bite because it had been made with love. At least she had thought so—before he left her.

“You’re welcome.” He shot her a warm smile, then downed half the lemonade she’d made for him when he first started the job.

She studied his strong jaw and each slight movement of his neck as he drank the cold liquid. Years ago, she would have run her hand through his thick hair, gripped the back of his neck, and pulled him close.

Shutting the door on those memories, she asked, “How much do I owe you?”

He leaned against the counter and appeared to read her serious expression. “A smile now and then.”

“Why do you care if I smile?” The man had given her a warning letter the first time he stepped foot into her condo. Now he wanted her to like him?

“I’ll always care about you, Andi.” His jaw tightened. “I’m sorry you hate me. I thought you would have gotten over our breakup by now.”

Breakup?
The word trivialized the way she felt when he had ripped her heart out nine years ago.

“I did get over you,” she lied.

Memories of him holding her in his arms revisited once or twice a year. She found it hard to believe anyone completely got over their first love. In her case, there hadn’t been a second. She sipped the lemonade, finding its tartness hard to swallow, just as she had found his parting words hard to swallow. He claimed to have broken up with her because he couldn’t understand her family loyalty. He was an only child. He didn’t know what it was like to be part of a tight family unit. She, on the other hand, had three older sisters, and they were close. The Stevenson sisters were there for one another.