04 - Shock and Awesome (33 page)

 
   
"I hate the word 'panties'."

 
   
I gave her a sympathetic nod. "I hate the word 'moist'."

 
   
Lily shuddered. "I don't even want to go into why those two words belong together."

 
   
"I have absolutely no idea what you mean," I lied, holding a travel mug out to her.

 
   
"You made me coffee?" The hope in Lily's voice seared through me. It must have been a very long time since she had any caffeine. At least a couple of months since her health kick started. I hated to burst her bubble.

 
   
"Nope. It's a healthy, veggie shake. Vitamins and... stuff."

 
   
"Thank you. So sweet." Lily brightened when she saw the second cup I held. "You're having a health shake too?"

 
   
"Shut. Up!" I recoiled. "I got coffee. That shake reeks. Now, are you coming or what? Do I have to stake out this psycho on my own?"

 
   
"I'm coming."

 
   
"Cool. I'll tell you about my latest dating disaster on the way."

 
   
"Oh, thank God. I was afraid you'd given up on all that. Give me ten minutes. Do not leave without me," Lily demanded before shutting the door.

 
   
Lily didn't seem her usual self on our drive over to my dream house-slash-neighborhood-serial-killer-stakeout, but I figured she was tired. So I talked away, telling her about my suspicions surrounding Ben, and how I thought he might be the thief. It was disappointing because it actually made him the least date-able of the
undate-ables
. Dating anyone was hard enough when it was a charade, but having two former lovers watching over me was unendurable.

 
   
"Imagine if you humped Ben," chipped in Lily, playing with the recline function on the passenger seat, "it would have been like a triple whammy in one room."

 
   
"I don't think I could deal with that. I think that's just asking for trouble."

 
   
Lily snorted. "Yeah. You
never
do that." She yawned again. "Sorry. Didn't get a lot of sleep."

 
   
"
Jord
? I asked, trying not to wince.

 
   
"No. I didn't feel well."

 
   
"Catching a psycho will make you feel better. Here we are," I said, her last comment sliding past as I pulled up several houses away from Aidan Marsh's home. This time, we were at the other end of the road from where we staked out previously. The last thing we needed was an early morning surprise from Maddox. Although, come to think of it, I used to enjoy them. If I really thought about it when I took the call from the
Schuberts
, I would have suggested taking Lily's car to make sure we weren't recognized. Now I thought about it, and as I looked over, Lily appeared kind of green and hadn't touched her shake. "Are you okay?" I asked.

 
   
"Just tired and kind of queasy. I think I ate something bad last night.
Jord
and I went out to dinner at that Japanese place. The one you don't like."

 
   
"What did you eat?"

 
   
"A lot of seafood. It was good, but this morning, I'm re-evaluating that."

 
   
"Do you think you have food poisoning?"

 
   
"Maybe. I don't feel like I'm going to be sick, just... queasy." She wrapped her arms around her stomach and leaned back, setting her face stoically.

 
   
"Want me to take you home?"

 
   
"No, let's watch for this guy,. It'll take my mind off feeling crappy."

 
   
We waited quietly for twenty minutes before I saw the front door open. A man exited with a large, brown Labrador at his side. "That's our guy," I told Lily.

 
   
"The one walking towards us?"

 
   
"Yep. Um, look busy." We both tried to find something to do.

 
   
"If you were a guy, we could make out," suggested Lily.

 
   
"Why am I the guy? Anyway, I wouldn't make out with someone who looks as green as you. Besides, it's too early in the morning for the make-out ruse. Plus, we could be gay. We could make out anyway. Not that I want to," I added.

 
   
"Me neither."

 
   
"Hey, not that it matters now," I told her just as Aidan Marsh passed by the car without giving us a second look. The dog didn't either. Our intense conversation about what we could be doing ended up being the perfect cover, which was a stroke of luck. I wasn't sure it would fly, however, when he came back. I mean, what the hell could we be talking about so long, and so early?

 
   
"Are we going to follow him?"

 
   
"Too obvious in the car, and it's too quiet to follow him on foot."

 
   
"Oh, good," said Lily, reclining the seat a little further back. She exhaled deeply and closed her eyes.

 
   
I watched her for a few seconds. Lily was rarely unwell, and it always showed when she was. "Are you sure you're okay?" I asked again. "I could take you home. I don't mind. Maybe you need to go back to bed."

 
   
"No, really, I'm fine."

 
   
"Okay." I drummed my fingers on the wheel, wondering how I could speed up the stakeout. There wasn't a lot we could do while Aidan walked his dog and left his house empty. At least... we thought it was empty. "Do you think you can keep an eye out for a few minutes in case Marsh comes back?"

 
   
Lily opened one eye. "Sure. Where will you be?"

 
   
"Snooping around his yard and peeking in his windows."

 
   
"Subtle."

 
   
"I try. No point pretending it’s something it's not. Call me on my cell phone the minute you see him. I'll be as fast as I can."

 
   
"Okay. Hey,
Lexi
?"

 
   
"What?"

 
   
"Good job he's not walking a Chihuahua. You might have time enough to find his victim while he walks that slobbering mutt."

 
   
I forgot a victim might be inside. It seemed a huge oversight on my part. "I thought the dog was cute," I said.

 
   
"I bet it would eat you as soon as lick you. He probably bred it to dispose of his victims. Labradors eat anything. I saw it on Animal Planet."

 
   
With the charming thoughts of my imminent death and body disposal, I pulled a face, stuck my tongue out at Lily, and exited the car, patting my rear pocket to make sure my cell phone was snugly against my butt. Taking a quick look around, I shut the door quietly, There was no one else on the street. I guessed we were a little too early for the school and work crowd, but they would soon appear, giving us some extra cover.

 
   
Hightailing it over to the house, I walked quickly along the path to the door. The
half moon
window over the door was too high for me to see through, even on tiptoes. The wooden blinds hung closed at what I assumed were the living room windows, so I ignored them and walked around the side. I was just beyond the fence of the yellow bungalow. The six-foot high fence blocked my way to the backyard. I tried the door in the middle, but it was locked with a padlock as thick and unwieldy as the frame. Ugh. What was it with potential suspects? Why couldn't they make anything easy? I mean, we didn't catch a thief last night, and this morning, I couldn't even get into this guy's yard. You would have thought he might like to catch someone entering, especially with people becoming ever savvier at evading murderers today.

 
   
I stood back and wished for life to cut me a break. Then I spied a large planter sitting at a right angle to the house and fence, a half-dead palm inside. I stood on the lip and grabbed the top of the fence until I could see over. Not that there was much to see. A couple of ragged dog toys, a patch of neat lawn, patio, and beyond a thick tree, some kind of outbuilding. Not a garage, but perhaps, a studio.

 
   
Before I could think better of it, I pulled hard on the top of the fence and launched myself upwards, my feet scrabbling against the panel until I could swing a leg over. For a moment, perched on the top, I was thinking it was an awful long way down. Then I slung my other leg over and dropped, landing in a crouch, and glad I was wearing old jeans and a fitted jersey jacket. I was so impressed with myself, I kind of wished someone filmed my
Nikita
moment.

 
   
Walking around the corner of the house cautiously, I found the garden as empty as I expected. The lawn was neat and boxy without any suspicious, newly-dug or raised "flower beds," although the patio appeared new. I looked in the kitchen window and saw relatively clean countertops with the usual appliances: toaster and coffee pot, as well as a pile of dirty dishes in the sink. So far, a very single man home. Two dog bowls were on the floor next to the dishwasher and a bag of doggie treats sat on the countertop. There was probably enough to last a Chihuahua its entire life, but I figured the Labrador probably ate that much in a week. I tried the door handle. Locked.

 
   
Moving along the side of the house, I came to French doors that opened onto the patio. These were
drapeless
too, and inside was a dining room: just four chairs and a table, beside several bookcases, heaving with books. No stereo or TV. The decor may have been minimal, but the quality of the furniture was outstanding, the kinds of things my sister would like. High-end rustic, if there were such a thing. Definitely not the black leather and chrome one would expect of a single man, though come to think of it, that wasn't Maddox’s or Solomon's style either. Maybe single men were getting better at the furnishings thing? I paid mental homage to
Queer Eye for the Straight Guy
and all the reruns that must have inspired him. Turning away from the house, I started towards the building at the end of the garden.

 
   
Studio or garage? Both had plenty of places for hiding victims, especially as I didn't see any hint of a basement. No outside stairs or entry, and absent any windows, I wasn't certain there was one at all.

 
   
I jogged across the lawn and pressed my face against the single window to the studio. Disappointingly, instead of finding a tied-up victim, it turned out to be less torture studio and more storage cabin. Tables, chairs, bookcases, and side tables all jostled for space. Some were covered with dust cloths, while others were not. I wondered why he needed so much furniture, or if he inherited it and didn't know where else to put it. Also, I couldn't smell anything gross, so I was pretty certain nothing was decomposing inside. I didn't relish the moment that I’d have to ask Garrett exactly how soon a dead body starts to stink.