Suspicious Minds (Squeaky Clean Series, Book 2) (21 page)

"How kind of you."

I pointed to the largest box in the corner. "You take that one. I'll finish here" I picked up a shoebox.

"Again, your kindness is astounding" He knelt beside the box. "So what am I doing again?"

"Just make sure he doesn't have any diamond rings or insurance policies hidden in those papers"

I'm sure his son would be more than happy to collect on those, though he wanted nothing to do with his father's death.

"So, how did you get started in doing this, Gabby?"

"My mom died; I had to drop out of college because of mounting bills. I wanted to do something that made me feel like I wasn't a total and complete failure in the life department"

"Giving up your dreams for your family is noble."

"Is it noble if it's driven by guilt?"

He didn't say anything. And for some reason, I continued.

"My brother was kidnapped on my watch when I was ten years old. It turned my family upside down. My father started drinking again. Stopped working. My mother had to get a part-time job on top of her forty-hour-aweek job. I think my father's always blamed me. That's why he doesn't feel guilty collecting money from my paycheck. It's retribution."

"What happened with your brother?"

"He was never found." In my best nightmare, I imagined him growing up with another family and thinking everything was normal. That he had a mother and father that showed him some kind of twisted love and that they'd kidnapped him to fill an empty void in their life. In my worst nightmares ... well, I never went there. I couldn't.

"Did you find it hard to get started in this business?"

I shrugged, remembering those early days of feeling totally out of my zone. I'd kept my chin up and pretended like I knew what I was doing. "I started cold. Big mistake. I didn't think I needed any training to clean houses. I mean, I knew enough about hazmat materials to know you just didn't stick them in the Dumpster. But I quickly discovered that I needed more. I got certified, and I still take courses on occasion so I can be the best crime-scene cleaner possible. I keep adding equipment to the business" I left out the fact that a few months ago much of my equipment had been burned when a house I was cleaning was set on fire. Thankfully, I was insured.

I plunked the shoebox down with a thud, crossed my legs, and leaned against the wall. "Your turn."

He rested his arms against the top of the oversized box. "What do you want to know?"

"Why a crime-scene cleaner? Why give up a job as a funeral home director?"

He shrugged. "It gets to you after a while. I couldn't do it anymore. I'd trained for all those years to do the job. Did it for two years. Then I woke up and realized how miserable I was. The job had robbed my joy. Some people can do that job and go on with their lives, like it doesn't affect them. Not me. So I sold my house, my car, and my plasma TV. Decided I wanted something simpler. Now I'm renting an apartment in Ocean View. Driving a beat-up Vanagon. Doing odd jobs on the side. Surfing. Skiing. And I'll keep doing that until the money runs out and I realize I have to grow up"

Hearing his story made Chad Davis seem much more human.

"And that's how two weirdos got to be crime-scene cleaners," I said.

"Amen and amen."

We both began to work silently again. After a few minutes, Chad looked up. "This is the guy whose funeral you're planning, isn't it?"

"Supposedly. I haven't done very much planning lately. Plus, none of his family wants anything to do with him."

"I wonder what happened:'

"Yeah, me too"

Chad plucked a letter from the box. "Maybe this has something to do with it"

"What's it say?" I leaned forward.

As Chad opened the letter, the paper crinkled in protest. His eyes scanned the words before he cleared his throat and began reading. "I can't believe you actually married that woman, Dad. I tried to warn you that she was no good, but you didn't listen. Now, I don't want anything to do with you. As far as I'm concerned you made your choice: her over me"

Chad lowered the letter and our gazes met.

"They had a rift because his father got married?" I asked. If my father got remarried, I'd be jumping for joy. Finally, he'd have someone else to take care of him.

"Maybe the woman was out for his money."

I looked around the house, which was nothing to brag about. "Doubt it. I pointed at the box. "Are there more letters?"

Chad dug around inside before emerging with a handful of envelopes. "Some that have been returned, addressed to his son"

I leaned forward, itching to get my fingers on those papers. "Can we open them?"

"Who's here to stop us?"

I eyeballed them when guilt hit me. "It somehow feels wrong"

"His son left all of the man's stuff to you, did he not?"

I remembered our conversation. "In a manner of speaking."

Chad ripped open an envelope. "Then there's nothing illegal"

"How about on a moral level?"

He paused. "We don't have to read them if you don't want to"

I grabbed another letter. "No, I really want to"

Chad began reading aloud the letter he invaded. "I've thought about what you said. You're right. I shouldn't be with Susan. You're more important to me. Please come back home"

"When's it postmarked?"

He flipped the envelope over. "Ten years ago"

I didn't expect the weight that pressed on my chest. "Sad"

"Very."

We cleaned the rest of the house in silence.

"SO, DID I pass your test?" Chad wound the vacuum cleaner cord around the cylinder designed to hold it in place.

I collected various cleaning supplies and placed them in the container I used to cart them around. "I suppose I'll allow you to come to my next job with me."

Chad paused from his winding. "You'll allow me?"

I, on the other hand, didn't miss a beat as I gathered things to leave. "That's correct. I'll allow it"

His hands went to his hips. "Maybe I don't want to"

"Okay, fine. Then don't"

"Maybe I do want to"

I stopped working long enough to give him a dirty look. "Make up your mind, snail! You are half inside your house and halfway out!"

"What?" His voice rose in pitch as if I were a total mystery to him.

"It's my favorite haiku"

"0 ... okay" He continued to put the vacuum cleaner together.

"So anyway, I have to go clean up a house that an SUV drove through. They're supposed to be releasing the scene"-I glanced at my watch-"in eleven minutes"

"What can you even clean up? Isn't it going to just be bricks and wood?"

"Two people were killed. I doubt the family will want to live there again, if the place doesn't end up being condemned. But I'm going to assess the damage, see if I can contract some work out for patching the hole where a bay window used to be. Then I'll get rid of some furniture, have the carpet cleaned, put out an AirScrub or two"

"Of course"

"So, what do you say?" I really wanted him to come with me. Being with Chad was much better than being alone with my thoughts.

"I'm in"

"Great, we can drop your car at your apartment, and then you can ride with me:" I remembered his Vanagon. "It will look more professional than both of us driving separately."

As I closed the door to Mr. Hermit's house, I realized I would miss this place. I felt like I'd gotten to know the man during my days cleaning here. Sadness pressed in on me as I remembered the way the man had died alone, with no one there to mourn his death. I'd stuck the rest of the letters into my pocket when Chad wasn't looking. I had to know if there was more information. Who was the woman? What had happened to make the son dislike her so much? What had happened to end their marriage?

I called the landlord on the way out to let him know I'd finished. He said he'd stick the check in the mail. I told him I'd stop by tomorrow to pick it up. I couldn't rely on other people's timetables for payment.

I glanced at the clock in the van. It was almost three. I had to go to this job and still stop by to visit Parker again. My heart panged at the thought of him. Parker and I had been through a lot together. I mean, sure, he got on my nerves. And I think I embarrassed him. And we had little in common other than investigating-him on an official level, and mine on a not-soofficial level.

And I'd never looked at him like Charlie did.

The weight on my chest began to crumble. I even laughed. Out loud. Which caused Chad to give me a strange look.

Why was I mourning over this new realization? Parker and I weren't meant to be together. Charlie had helped me to realize that. I knew I could finally close this chapter in my life.

If I'd really been in love with Parker, would I have left his bedside? No. I'd have stayed with him all day. I would have cried all night when the hospital made me leave.

"Should I be driving?" Chad asked.

"Why do you ask?"

"Maybe some of those fumes are getting to you. You know, you have to be careful working with chemicals . .

"No, I'm fine. I'm great actually."

Chad and I stayed at the hit-and-run house for four hours. I would have been there until the wee hours of the morning had Chad not been with me. He was helpful. Very helpful. His muscles came in handy. Plus, he had a great manner with the family, easing them and speaking in comforting tones. The father and daughter hadn't been there. An aunt was taking care of cleaning up the mess while the immediate family mourned.

And this is why I'd never touch alcohol.

My father had succumbed to its evil lure early on in my life. And I'd seen way too many other stupid things that people did as a result of alcohol.

A drunk driver had run off the road and crashed into this family's house while they were watching Saturday morning cartoons together. I squeezed the image out of my mind as I drove back.

I had to go visit Parker.

The clock told me it was almost eight.

I bet visiting hours ended at nine, if not earlier. I sucked in a breath.

"Everything okay?" Chad asked.

"I need to go to the hospital"

"Are you hurt?"

"No" I paused, contemplating what to say next. "Parker was shot last night. I need to go visit him before visiting hours end."

"Parker? Isn't he your boyfriend?" Chad straightened and stared at me.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that" Not for long, though.

"Why do you seem so blase about it?"

"I seem blase?" I pointed to myself for effect. Did I really seem like I didn't care? Last night, I felt like I might break in two.

"You're not going to make it in time if you stop to get my van"

I bit my lip. "I know."

"I'll go with you. But I'll wait in the waiting room, of course. You can drop me off afterward."

"Really?"

"Sure. I don't have any plans"

"Thanks, Chad:"

"No problem. That's what friends are for"

Charlie sat beside Parker when I walked into his hospital room. She stood to leave when I arrived, but I put my hand on her shoulder and gently pushed her back down into the plastic seat beside Parker's bed.

Her face looked full of questions.