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It Started With A House: Lizzie. Book 1 (The Westport Mysteries) Page 10


  “Is everything alright?” I asked looking from him to Brenda and back again, my stomach clenching.

  “Yes, of course, why wouldn’t it be?” he asked, avoiding eye contact altogether.

  “You just seem a bit uptight, that’s all.”

  “I’m not uptight. I just don’t like all the questions,” he snapped. “I haven’t questioned you as to why you are here have I?”

  “Well no, but I told you last night I would be here.” I could feel my blood pressure rising, but decided a deep breath would be much more beneficial. “Riley and I are just getting lunch if you’d like to sit with us,” I suggested.

  “Oh no, I don’t think so. Brenda and I are actually running late for another meeting. We should probably go, Brenda.” They both stood and almost ran out of the shop, without waiting for their order.

  “What was that about?” asked Riley when I returned to the table. “I hope they didn’t leave on account of me being here.”

  “No, some unforgotten meeting they suddenly remembered they were late for,” I shrugged. It was all very strange. If Scott had been with anybody other than Brenda, I would think he was having an affair. But Brenda? She was the same age as my mother!

  * * * *

  I tried to push all thoughts of them aside as we made our way to the library. I think it was the hangover making me restless, even after two very strong coffees. I still couldn’t think straight and had a dull throbbing in the front of my head.

  The library was in a very old, small, two-story municipal building that was extremely bland and boring. For such a small library, it was surprisingly busy and it was hard to find a place to sit. This afternoon they were holding a workshop on how to manage stress and anxiety. I was thinking I should probably stay and join in as my stress and anxiety levels were pretty high. Riley however, dragged me away and over to the counter where a particularly pretty lady sat.

  He had to pick the pretty one didn’t he? I mean, sitting right next to her was a large, frumpy looking woman with a frown on the face. Why didn’t he go to her instead? Okay, after my run-in with Scott my imagination was working overtime. It didn’t help that Riley had been so close all freaking day, and looked and smelt like heaven on a stick, just tempting me to lick him. In fact, running my tongue up his neck might just improve my mood and help with the hangover. It would actually be doing both of us a favor, really.

  I scowled as Miss Pretty Library Lady fluttered her eyelashes at Riley as she directed us upstairs to where the old photos were kept. It turns out there weren’t very many of them we were interested in, only five in fact, all black and white.

  Struggling to concentrate on the photos and not on Riley, I turned the photo over and read the writing on the back. The first one was taken in 1949 and was of an older woman standing with a younger woman in front of my house. Wow, my old house was in such good condition then. If only they’d kept it up. I could only assume it was a photo of a young Avis with her mother. The next few photos were similar. One of them was of Avis with a lady—maybe a friend or neighbor—and something about her was familiar. I just couldn’t put my finger on what.

  But there was nothing to give us any clues to who Will might be. Damn.

  Chapter Twelve

  Waking up to a bright and sunny day with all signs of the hangover gone, told me today was going to be a good one. The carpet was being laid in my newly painted office and it was going to look great. Riley had done a good job ripping the old bathroom out and remodeling so I now had a small toilet and basin area, and storeroom for all of the files that were on their way. I wasn’t really sure where Riley was. Earlier in the morning, he was hammering something or other upstairs but he’d gone pretty quiet in the last hour or so. Never mind, he’s a big boy, he would sort himself out.

  With my iPod blaring the latest Lady GaGa album, I spent a good hour or so in the bathroom applying makeup and trying to get my hair to behave. By some miracle it actually looked okay. With just the right length, just the right amount of humidity, and just the right amount of hair product, it can be tamed. Of course, all planets must also be in the correct alignment for this to happen.

  Today, Danny and I were taking Molly to the animal shelter to—hopefully—bring Harper home. Molly still had no idea what we were doing. I had done a very good job keeping my mouth shut.

  Right on time he picked me up and we headed over to Molly’s. Danny was looking pretty cute today with his straightened black hair slicked back to emphasize the large amethyst earring he wore in one ear. He’d obviously dressed for the occasion, as he was in casual three quarter cut off pants and a purple over-shirt open at the front showing us all his black I heart Dogs T shirt. Reaching Molly’s, Danny beeped his horn to let her know we were waiting. Molly came running towards us, obviously thinking her surprised involved more shopping than anything else. She’d dressed in white jeans and a very tight black knitted top, hair tumbling down her back in beautiful ringlets. Looking down at myself, in my plain denim jeans and plain white t-shirt and hoodie, I felt like the ugly duckling of the family.

  Once we reached the animal shelter, it took Molly a minute to get her bearings and figure out what we were doing.

  “Happy birthday!” yelled Danny. “We thought we’d give you a new roommate.”

  “We’ve already picked one out for you but wanted you to see him before we bought him,” I explained.

  She looked a bit shell-shocked really, but followed us silently through to the reception area. I was feeling a bit concerned as silent was unusual for Molly.

  We were greeted by a really lovely lady and when we asked to see Harper we were directed to the paddocks out the back. Today, he was accompanied by another dog and an attendant. Because of the storm we’d had on Tuesday, the ground was extremely muddy and the once little, sort of white Harper was now little, brown, muddy Harper. Unlike the first time Danny and I had seen him—when he’d sat back and quietly checked us out—as soon as Molly entered the gate he ran straight to her and jumped up against her leg. It was as if he’d been waiting for her.

  Molly immediately sat down in the mud and God knows what else and put her arms around him. Danny and I, mouths agape, turned and looked at each other. Molly was usually very concerned with her appearance and always particular about her clothing. To sit down in the mud was unheard of. When she looked up at us, tears were running down her face. Of course, by this time Danny and I were also in tears. The attendant just looked at us and smiled, obviously used to this kind of reaction.

  “Do you like him?” I asked, digging in my bag for a tissue.

  “He’s gorgeous. Is he really mine?” she asked quietly.

  “If you want him to be, yes,” answered Danny discreetly wiping his face with the back of his hand.

  I think the answer to that was obvious. We were directed back to reception to pay for him and fill out all the necessary paperwork while the attendant gave Harper a bath. With all this done, we headed back to the car with our newest family member. I wondered if Harper knew how lucky he was. He was going to be the most spoilt dog ever to have walked the earth.

  “I have to take these forms down to the council office to register him within the next fourteen days,” said Molly, reading from the forms she had been given. She’d finally stopped crying and was now looking lovingly at Harper, who had his head sticking out the car window, tongue flapping.

  “I wonder if you have to register a cat.” I asked wondering about Cat. “Can I come with you when you go, Molly? I have a few questions for them.”

  “Let’s go now on our way home then,” she suggested.

  * * * *

  The Council office wasn’t far from the animal refuge and Danny waited in the car with Harper while Molly and I went inside. We watched as Harper stood, paws on the window, nose pressed to the glass, obviously wondering if he was being abandoned all over again.

  Inside Molly filed all the necessary paperwork for Harper, while I joined another queue to ask about Cat. I
was served by a woman who looked a little bit younger than me, with cropped, bright red hair and matching lips.

  “Can I help you?” she asked.

  “Yes, I was hoping you could tell me if I need to register my cat.”

  “Yes, you do,” she said, handing me some forms to fill out.

  “The thing is,” I said with a small embarrassed smile, “I don’t know his real name. I’ve just been calling him Cat.” She paused, giving me a strange look, so I quickly explained the situation.

  “Oh, you’re the lady who bought that house. I heard you’ve got Riley Thomas working for you. Is that right?” she asked her eyes twinkling, leaning forward, and preparing herself for any gossip that might come her way.

  I hate the way gossip spreads around small communities. “Yes, do you know him?”

  She started nodding her head, reminding me of a bobble-head doll. “My sister used to date him for a while in high school. Phew, he’s a hot one is Riley.” I think that was a roll of jealousy that ran through my stomach but before I had a chance to examine it, she continued. “As far as I know he’s not dating anyone at the moment. Lucky you.” Turning her attention back to her computer, she asked, “Is it a ginger male?”

  It took me a second to catch up with the conversation but when I nodded, she continued. “That cat is already registered with us,” she said. “He used to belong to Avis Miller. His name is Mister.”

  “Mister? Really?” That was only slightly better than cat. Obviously Avis’s imagination was no better than mine.

  All necessary paperwork completed, Danny dropped me home and getting out of the car, we waited while Harper made a quick pit stop at Helen and Allen’s fence, promptly lifting his leg. I think he’s going to fit in well with our family.

  I watched Danny reverse out of my drive, and then walked up to the front door noticing it was open. That was strange because Riley’s truck wasn’t in the drive. Maybe it was around the back. Pushing the door all the way open, I called out to Riley.

  Silence. A prickly feeling ran up my spine and the hair on my arms stood up. Telling myself not to be stupid, it was broad daylight, I ventured in. I left the front door open in case I needed to make a fast getaway and looked around. Everything seemed to be the way I left it. The TV was still in the lounge, the coffee-maker was still on the kitchen bench and the leftovers of Mum’s homemade chocolate cake were still in the fridge. Obviously I hadn’t been robbed. Maybe Riley hadn’t pulled the door closed properly behind him when he left. Still feeling a bit freaked out, I turned back towards the front door. And screamed.

  A hand reached out and grabbed my arm as another hand was placed over my mouth to stop me from screaming. At the same time I was being pulled backwards against a very large, hard body.

  Fight or Flight? Fight or Flight? Fight obviously…someone was between me and the front door!

  As disgusting as it was, I opened my mouth and bit down hard. The hand instantly dropped and I heard a sharp intake of breath. His grip on me loosened enough so that I spun around, leg pulled back and kicked the poor man’s groin—smack bang on target—as hard as I could. It was as he was dropped to the floor onto his knees, hand held tightly against his manhood, that I realized…it was Riley.

  Now, I know my first thought should be Oh My God, what have I done but actually, it was more like Oh My God, my foot touched his man business. I’m never washing it again’ I was about to yell at him for scaring me, when he put his finger to his lips in the shush position and pointed upstairs. Someone was up there.

  I quietly opened the freezer door, pulled out the frozen peas and handed them to Riley. I know someone was robbing my house, but I needed to make sure a certain Godlike man’s Godlike parts were going to be okay. Riley’s face had turned a slight greenish color, so I sat on the floor next to him and waited for his breathing to return to normal.

  “I’m so sorry. I thought you were a burglar attacking me,” I whispered. He didn’t respond. That’s probably a good thing as I think the response may not have been printable. We sat there quietly for what felt like hours but was really only a couple of minutes. Feeling a bit better, Riley stood and limped over to the cupboard drawers. I felt a moment of panic when he pulled out a large knife. Was he that upset with me? Thankfully he turned towards the hallway and motioned for me to stay.

  Was he kidding? What if whoever it was in the house had crept downstairs while my attention had been somewhere around Riley’s nether regions? What if they were waiting to murder me once Riley was out of the room? No, far better to stay close to him. He gave me a feeling of safety. Even though, after I had kicked him in the groin, he was probably more of a danger to me than any maniac lurking upstairs.

  Creeping up the stairs, right behind Riley—yes, I am trying to focus on the job at hand and not his backside, okay—I listened intently for noises. I heard a car door close and an engine turn over, a dog barked in the far distance and the neighbor’s phone was ringing. But no noises that told us someone was in the house. Quietly checking all the rooms, it didn’t take a genius to realize someone had been here. All the boxes in my bedroom were upended and the contents thrown around the room. Whoever it was; was looking for something. It was the same in the bathroom. Even the laundry basket had been searched. The attic was pretty much untouched. There was nowhere up there to hide anything. Thankfully, no damage was done.

  “What do you think they were looking for?” I asked when we were certain we were now alone.

  “I don’t know. When I arrived, I saw you entering the house. Then I saw the curtains in the upstairs bedroom move. Someone was definitely there. I came in behind you hoping to get you out safely. Next time I think I’ll leave you to defend yourself,” he said looking at my right foot.

  “But how did they get out?” I continued, ignoring the dirty look he was giving me. “You have to go through the kitchen to get out the back door and we could see the front door from where we were.”

  “He must have jumped out the window in the bathroom. It was open when we went in.”

  “Should we call the Police?” I asked. When I first moved in here I was scared of the boogey man, now I was scared of something much more real. “Do you think he’ll come back?” I couldn’t tell what Riley was thinking. His expression was guarded.

  “I’ll call the Police. You look to see if anything’s missing,” he said, pulling his phone from his pocket.

  * * * *

  As far as I could tell the only thing missing was a particularly expensive pair of pink Victoria’s Secrets panties, but then they could just be lost in the wash. The Police thought it was a robbery interrupted and that there was no danger of the perpetrator coming back.

  They obviously wanted something smaller than the television and hadn’t found it. Riley made a trip to the hardware store and replaced every door and window lock in the house before he headed home. I attempted to clean up the mess in my bedroom but felt a bit empty about it all. I wasn’t in the house at the time of the break in, but what if I had been? What would I have done?

  Getting out the largest can of hairspray I own, I put it next to the bed. Mace would be better, but a woman has to be resourceful, right? Making sure the bedroom door was locked and that Cat—aka Mister—was on the inside with me, I pushed a chair under the door handle and climbed into bed. My mind was on full alert, listening to every creak and bump the house made. And let me tell you, with a house this old, there were a lot. I heard a car pull up outside a few times but when I peeked out of the window I couldn’t see anything. By the time my bedroom clock read 1 am, I was fed up with tossing, turning and being freaked out of my mind, so I sat up and decided to read a book. I didn’t think sleep would arrive anytime soon. I didn’t have to turn the light on as I’d never turned it off. Sleeping in the dark tonight was definitely not on my To Do list.

  I got up and grabbed my bag and rummaged through it looking for my iPhone. Kindle really is a fantastic invention, isn’t it? I found Avis’s ring first thou
gh, so I pulled it out of my bag, lifted the lid and removed it from its black velvet bed. Placing it on my finger, I looked at the diamonds sparkling in the light. Even after years of being hidden, it still sparkled. It felt strange having a ring on my finger and I allowed myself to think about someone giving me such a gift. I knew for certain it wouldn’t be Scott.

  What about Riley? Would I like him to give me a ring? Sure he’s amazing to look at, but would I want to spend the rest of my life with him?

  When sleep finally came I spent the next few hours tossing and turning as strange dreams filled my mind, but thankfully no dreams of strange men standing over my bed.

  * * * *

  The following morning I woke with an imprint of the ring on my cheek. Looking at my alarm clock I saw it was already 8.15 am. The day had begun without me. I’m surprised Riley clattering about upstairs didn’t wake me, but all was quiet. Taking the ring off and putting it safely back in my bag, I rubbed my cheek as I headed to the bathroom for my usual morning routine of shower, hair and make-up. This done, I wandered down to look for coffee.

  The coffee was sitting in the pot still hot, so Riley had been here this morning. I wasn’t sure what was happening with the house today. The carpet was laid in the attic yesterday and I must say it looks amazing. I’d chosen an off-white shade of paint for the walls to contrast with the new latte-carpet. With a new blind on the window, it was all ready for the new office furniture.

  Coffee in hand, I decided to have one more look at it before all the furniture arrived, so I walked up the two flights of stairs to my new office. What greeted me was a room that was complete, furniture and all.

  My desk was over near the window, the new bookcase against the new walls with my new printer ready to go and gorgeous flowers on my desk.

  Riley was a true miracle. He’d done all this while I was asleep this morning. I sat in my new chair—top of the range leather—and smiled. This was fantastic. Everything smelled new and I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. Doing a full 360 in the chair, I spun around to find Riley leaning against the doorframe of the little storeroom, smiling at me.