The Good Neighbor - Bettes Kimberley A. (лучшие книги читать онлайн TXT) 📗

“Oh, I thought you knew. Her body was found in a ditch outside of town. She died of head trauma. It looked like they used a poker. Never found out who did it.” She paused a moment, deep in thought. “You don’t think I made a mistake moving into the house, do you? It seems like a nice, quiet neighborhood, but, well, it’s the same house, and...”

I saw the hope in her eyes. I knew she needed to hear that she’d be fine on this street, in that house, and that the horrible things that had happened to her aunt were not going to happen to her. I could do that. I could tell her what she needed to hear. “No, no. You’re fine. This is a great neighborhood.”

She must’ve read something in the look on my face. “Is something wrong?” She looked at me expectantly.

I was still upset about mentioning my wife. It was like slapping a sunburn. I was used to the pain, but when I mentioned her, it stung as if it were fresh.

“No,” I said. “I know you and your kids will be very happy here.”

“Good,” she said, clearly relieved. “Guess I’d better get back. I’ll talk to you again soon. Meet your wife perhaps?” She had turned to leave, but once she saw the look on my face, she stopped. “I’m sorry,” she stammered. She pointed to my wedding ring. “I just...assumed. I’m sorry.” She was clearly confused.

I looked at my ring. Struggling to keep my voice steady and my eyes dry, I said, “It’s a long story.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

Of course she didn’t. How could she?

“Well,” she said, trying to rectify the situation. “If you ever want to tell it, let me know. I’ll cook dinner. I’m a great listener.”

“Maybe I’ll take you up on that.”

“Good. You could meet the kids.” She turned and walked away, heading for her new home and leaving behind the faint scent of her perfume. I inhaled through my nose and watched her walk away, realizing that Andy was right. She was very attractive. I immediately felt guilty for thinking such thoughts.

I didn’t have to feel guilty for long, though. Andy dashed out of his house and over to mine, running up on the porch.

“Well?” he asked, excitedly. He appeared to have been hovering at the door, waiting to run over here and bombard me with questions. When I didn’t answer, he repeated, “Well?”

“Out of the eleventy bazillion questions you have for me, this is the one you lead with?” I sat down in my chair, Andy taking the one next to me.

“I’m working my way up to the others,” he said as he crossed his legs, placing an ankle on the opposite knee.

“She’s nice. Elaine was her aunt.”

“Oh. She’s nice. That’s all you have to say?”

“What more do you want me to say? We talked for like five minutes. Besides, don’t you get enough gossip at work?”

“One can never have enough gossip. Thought you knew that. Besides I don’t think of it as gossip. I think of it as informed entertainment.”

“Informed entertainment?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I guess if that’s the word that separates you from the other ladies, then fine.”

Andy laughed. He relaxed further into the chair.

“You know what we need?” he asked. Before I could answer, “We need beer.” He jumped up and ran back to his house, returning only moments later with two ice cold bottles of beer. I would’ve protested that it was too early, but for him, it was evening. Things were always weird like this when he worked nights. Handing one to me, he plopped into the chair and put his feet up on my table. “Nice footstool,” he said.

“Don’t hate the patio furniture.”

“What’s Jenson been doing today so far?” he asked, opening his bottle.

“Don’t know. I haven’t been paying attention.” I opened my beer, appreciating the hell out of the twist off top.

From the corner of my eye, I could see Andy looking at me with a huge grin smeared across his face. I wasn’t sure how, but I knew he was going to turn this conversation into something more than it was.

“What is it, Andy?” I asked, not turning toward him.

“Haven’t been paying attention, huh? You have, just not to Jenson.” It didn’t take a team of scientific engineers to figure out what he meant by that.

I fought the urge to glance in Carla’s direction. I ignored his point and continued staring across the street at Mr. Jenson’s house.

“You ever talk to him? I mean, like really talk to him.” I asked. Andy hadn’t lived in the neighborhood as long as I had, but he was more outgoing than I was so I assumed he’d talked with him at some point. Andy had never met a stranger. While I’d been caught up in work, Andy had socialized. I teased him often about being a gossip, but it was just that he talked to everyone, so he knew more than most people did.

“Not really. Said hi a few times when he moved in a couple years ago. He’s not much of a talker, though.”

“Well, I’d have thought you’d love to talk to someone who wouldn’t interrupt your monologues and soliloquies.”

“Yeah, well, I need a challenge. You don’t exactly talk my ear off either, you know.” He took a long drink of his beer.

“Doesn’t have many visitors, does he?” I asked, ignoring his statement about my silence.

“He’s never had a visitor. At least not that I’ve seen. Of course, I work odd hours, so it’s possible that he had some and I didn’t see. Possible, but not probable. Jill’s never seen him have a visitor either.”

“You think we should visit him?”

I could almost hear the snap in his neck when he turned and glared at me.

“Are you serious? No way.” He sounded as if I’d just asked him to eat a platter of whale wiener.

“Well, you’re the one who was all for stalking him. Now you don’t want to visit? Why not? What better way to find out what he does with those bags than to be in his house and look around. Maybe even work it into a conversation.”

“Stalking is different than visiting. Besides, what are we going to do? Go over there and say ‘Excuse me, sir. But we were wondering exactly how many people you’ve killed this month. We lost track. We were keeping count of the body bags you hauled out of here, but we lost our paperwork.’ You’re crazy. No way.”

“Of course not. That’s silly. I wouldn’t call him sir.”

Andy chuckled.

“He must be lonely over there. I know how that feels,” I muttered.

Andy was silent for a while. Then, “You know, that girl really seemed to like you. If you want to visit someone, maybe you should visit her.” Holding his hands out, palms up, as if they were scales, he said, “Hot girl or old man? If that’s a tough decision for you, you’ve got problems, buddy.”

I laughed.

“I’m serious. I’ll walk you down there, if you want.” He leaned forward, as if he were going to jump out of the chair if I’d only give him the word.

I laughed again. “I’m not ready for that, Andy.”

Growing a little more serious, Andy said, “I know, but I think you should be. It’s been a long time, Owen. She’s not coming back.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat so I could down the rest of the beer. I hoped it would take some of the sting out of those words. But it didn’t. I don’t think Andy realized how raw that wound still was. I also don’t think he realized how fully aware I was that she wasn’t coming back. She would never come back. I knew that. I just don’t think he knew that I knew that.

“I’m sorry, man. I just...you’re my best friend, and I hate seeing you like this. It pisses me off. You’re a great guy. You need to be happy. And if a hot mother of two is what’ll make you happy, then I’ll walk you down the street myself.” He smiled.

I chuckled. “I’m okay.”

Andy dropped the subject for now. I knew it wasn’t over. I knew that the very next opportunity that arose, he’d be trying to talk me into going down the street to her house and asking her out. I also knew he wasn’t trying to be an ass. He was trying to be helpful. He only wanted what was best for me.