The Good Neighbor - Bettes Kimberley A. - Страница 21
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Looking at him, this frail old man with his thin white hair, it was hard to imagine him making quilts. Partly, because he was a man.
“Quilts?” Andy asked, trying to make it sound right.
“What do you do with them?” I asked, clearly a step ahead of Andy.
“I donate them. Sometimes to homeless people, sometimes to children’s hospitals, and sometimes to veterans. That’s why I’m making flags this month. They’re going to the Am Vets.”
That’s when Andy laughed like a fool. Admittedly, I had to join him. We’d been so far off base about Mr. Jenson.
We told him about wondering what he had in those heavy black bags.
He furrowed his brows together and said, “You boys watched me struggle with all those bags and didn’t offer me any help?” It wasn’t funny then. It was sad. “Well, I suppose if you really thought I was killing people, it only makes sense that you wouldn’t want to be any part of it.”
We had a nice visit with Mr. Jenson after that mess was straightened out. We apologized many times for suspecting him and for not offering help with the heavy bags. Once Andy told him about Carla’s two-year theory, he laughed. He agreed that it certainly had made him look suspicious. He also agreed that it was a lot of deaths to have occurred on one street in such a short amount of time.
The ironic thing was that Jenson had noticed the uncanny amount of horrible happenings on this street, even though the rest of us had failed to see it.
29 Andy
Jenson agreed with us that three deaths on one street in two years was a lot. Of course, his agreeing with us didn’t change the fact that we still didn’t know the answer to the mystery.
Maybe there was no answer. As I walked to my house from Owen’s, I realized that maybe it was just a coincidence. Maybe there was no mystery to solve, no riddle to keep me awake nights. No reason to be suspicious of others. After all, we’d cleared Jenson. That only left me and Jill, Owen, Bernie, Hazel, and Louis. Carla just moved here, so she was innocent. Hazel was the sweetest little old lady you could ever meet. There was no way she’d be capable of anything like that. And Louis was rarely ever here.
That only left Bernie.
I opened the door to my house, but before entering, I turned and looked across the street at Bernie’s. Was it possible? Could that guy be the one responsible for the awful happenings that had occurred on Hewitt Street?
I’d never liked that guy. I not only thought it was possible, I was starting to think it was probable.
I went inside. I stopped in my tracks briefly, as I thought that maybe – just maybe – Jenson was the killer. It was a perfect cover, his quilt hobby. It would give him a great cover-up story if he was ever a suspect. But I dismissed that thought almost as soon as it popped into my head. It wasn’t Jenson.
But Bernie, now that was possible. Elaine was his next-door neighbor. He could’ve easily broken into her house at night, raped and killed her, dumped her body and returned home. Why? Who knew? But it was possible.
I found a note from Jill saying she’d be back and that she loved me, which I already knew. I hadn’t had a chance to spend much time with her the past few days. Running around trying to figure out the whole Jenson thing had monopolized my time. Of course, that was over now. I needed to spend some quality time with my wife.
After I wolfed down a sandwich, I showered and went to bed. Though I was done with night shift and had the next couple days off work before beginning day shift, I still needed sleep. Switching over to sleeping nights again was the hardest part of swing shift.
I fell asleep thinking of Jill.
30 Carla
I’d spent the afternoon researching online the different ways to defend myself against Bernie. I’d gone over techniques and methods. I’d even stood in my living room, practicing my moves while the kids napped. I’d read and studied everything I could find on the subject. Though I didn’t have a live person to practice on, I felt somewhat secure in what I’d learned.
The next step was to gather up anything that could be used as a weapon. I didn’t want to scare the children, so I put that off until later. Once they went to bed, I’d go around the house and find anything I could use. In the meantime, I made mental notes of what would work and what wouldn’t.
My studying was interrupted momentarily when Owen called to say he was going to sleep, but would be by later. I felt bad for him, having his sleeping schedule thrown off. I couldn’t wait for him to be back on track. I liked it when he spent the day with me.
I couldn’t believe I’d found someone so quickly after moving here. Not just someone I liked so much, but someone that my kids liked also. It surprised me because I hadn’t been looking for someone. I’d always heard that love finds you when you aren’t looking and when you’re not expecting it. I see now that’s true.
I had gotten really lucky. Even though it was sad that my aunt died, and was horrible to have lost her, it was a blessing that she’d left me her house. If not for that, I would never have moved here, would never have met Owen, and would never have fallen in...well, it was too soon to say that, but that’s what it felt like.
Of course, I also wouldn’t be worrying about defending myself against my neighbor, but if that was the only bad thing in the midst of so much good, then I’d take it. It was worth it.
After dinner, I watched TV with the kids for a while, and then put them to bed. I read them each a story before kissing them goodnight and tucking them in. The lamp that sat on the table between their beds cast a faint, cozy glow on the room. I told them again that I loved them from the doorway.
I was glad they went to bed early. It gave me a chance to gather up my weapons.
I went through the house looking for anything I could use. I didn’t have much. I had a baseball bat belonging to Ethan. I had knives from the kitchen. I had a golf club that had belonged to my ex-husband. I hoped that would be enough. Actually, I hoped I wouldn’t have to use them at all. I hoped that Bernie would forget all about me and hoped even harder that he would move away. If he didn’t, I would undoubtedly have to. And I didn’t want to leave. That would mean leaving Owen. We were just getting started, and I would hate to have things end that way.
I put the golf club beside my bed. It was lighter and I figured I could swing it more efficiently. Then, I put the baseball bat in the living room, hidden beside the couch. If I had to, I could get to it quickly, and it couldn’t be seen by anyone other than me.
I scattered knives throughout the house, hiding them where no one would be able to see them. I also had to make sure there weren’t any that could be accidentally found by the kids. Each time I hid one, I walked away, and then turned and ran past it, grabbing the knife from its hiding place as I ran by, just to make sure I could do it easily. I hid all the knives but one. I carried it with me from room to room.
I had just finished testing the hiding spot of the last knife when someone knocked on the door.
I peeked through the curtains on the door to see who it was before blindly opening the door. The memory of Bernie trying to force his way in after beating on the door was still fresh in my mind. Opening the door without first looking to see who was on the other side was a lesson learned the hard way, and a mistake I wouldn’t make again.
I opened the door and smiled at Owen, happy that he was finally here. I felt safer and more secure with him in the house.
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