Foreclosed: A Mitzy Neuhaus Mystery (A Mitzy Neuhaus Mystery, a Cozy Christian Collection) (3 page)

“Victorian on
Baltimore
?” James said with a mouth full of donut. “I don’t recall. Did you work on that one, Bruce?” Bruce was negotiating his donut into his coffee and offered a grunt.

“What kind of work did they get done?’ James washed his maple bar down with a swallow of coffee.

“We saw quartz counters in the kitchen. There may have been bathroom work done as well. It looked like there was nothing doing for landscaping though.” Mitzy leaned forward, elbows on the table, unconsciously giving the impression that she hung on their every word. It was disarming to the men and when combined with the donuts, a powerful tool for their memory.

“We did a quartz job about a month ago, didn’t we?”

“Yeah,” Bruce offered. He helped himself to a crueller.

“Did we do the install?” 

“Yeah.”

“Was it in the Eastside?”

“Yeah, over on
Baltimore
.” Their buddy Tony wiped his hands on his blue jeans and grabbed a donut as he passed the table.

Mitzy leaned in a little closer. “Will you be doing more work at that property?”

“No.” That was from Bruce.

“The guy didn’t pay, of course. And now he’s in bankruptcy. A real pain in the, well. A real pain. That was an awesome slab of rock he bought and it’s gonna sit in the house and rot until the bank does something about it. Probably next year.” James seemed to remember the whole thing now.

“Oh dear,” Sabrina murmured with a half frown. She let her gaze drop to her coffee as Bruce looked her way.

“Unless there was a buyer for the house.” Mitzy was already planning how to fix this for her friend and his business.

“You all have a lien on the property. If a traditional sale goes through on it you’d be paid first.”

“You got some buyers hiding upstairs at Neuhaus?” Bruce asked with a laugh.

Mitzy was thinking about the Dinner with Degas. It was definitely time to buy an evening gown and find a date for the upcoming event. “Where my buyers are hiding is a secret I won’t even tell you friends.”

She nodded goodbye and walked out of the stoneworks office, pleased with a job well done. She was sure that this was a failed flip job and an upcoming foreclosure. If she could get along with Aerin for one evening…or possibly two, she could fix it all.

Sabrina gave one last longing look at the donut box and then followed her boss out.

Alonzo sat in the emergency room on his bed getting madder by the moment.

Concussion.

Whiplash.

A bleeding traffic ticket.

The ticket was the last thing he needed. His car was likely totaled. Why drive a Hummer if it can get totaled by a…what had that been? Oh. An armored car from the
US
treasury. A ticket for reckless driving was probably getting off lightly. He came to pretty quickly, though his head still hurt like well, like hell. He was trying to cut out the swearing but some things were just too much. And if Pastor Hank could say hell, so could Alonzo. Especially after totaling his car two months before it was paid off.

The hospital didn’t seem in any hurry to let him out. Sitting in this room was making him livid, and the madder he got the worse his head hurt. He pressed his nurse call button three more times. Where the…had his nurse gone?
Not much better than actually swearing
, he thought.
Sorry, Lord
.

Thinking with God in mind had been an easier habit to develop than on his knees praying, which he never did much of. He didn’t do much of anything formally now that he was a Christian. But maybe he’d better.

The hope he had that God would help him get control over his anger had been a big selling point for the born-again thing. He caught a glance of himself in the mirror. Both his forehead and his cheek were purple with bruises. He was lucky his head hadn’t gone through the windshield.

The nurse came in, looking as annoyed as he felt. “Yes?” she said without making eye contact.

“Am I getting out of here?” He spoke through gritted teeth, but at least he spoke and didn’t yell.

“Not likely. Is that all?” 

“No it is not all. Where is the doctor and why am I not getting out of here?”

“The doctor is with emergency patients, sir.” Sir sounded like an insult when she said it. “He will see you as soon as he is able. In the meantime, he would like you to lie down and rest, but try not to fall asleep. Would you like the television on?” She picked up the remote and turned on the TV. The noise hit him like a wall; he doubled up and barfed all over the floor.

He was pretty sure if he sat up his head would fall off, but he heard the nurse pull the curtain around his bed as she left. He closed his eyes and hoped the janitor would come quickly, or the smell of the vomit would make him do it again.  

After clean up and much consultation with the doctor on rotation and the regular doctor, he was given the bed for the afternoon, some pain medication and the same caution against falling asleep.

The television was just too much for him so he turned on the radio.

It had been a day of interruptions, first the call from Alonzo interrupted her television show planning, and then the call from her renter interrupted the renovation planning. And then as soon as Mitzy was back at her desk, the phone rang again.

The station manager had called and begged her to fill in some empty time this afternoon. One of their advertisers had failed to pay and they were handling these situations with no mercy. Everyone seemed to love Johnny and Mitzy spots so it seemed a perfect quick fix if she could be had on short notice.

Johnny at the radio station was cute, but he was so crass. Mitzy didn’t mind flirting, or rather, she was a natural at it. But Johnny had a way of making her think she had gone too far. She wondered if it was just his radio personality. The whole flirting with her thing might just be his radio personality as well. He might not have two thoughts about her in real life.

She watched him through the window into his booth as he chatted with the weather and traffic guy. It would just be really nice to have someone to bring to the Dinner with Degas. Really, really nice.

Don’t be unequally yoked…
The old advice nagged at her. When it came to that she couldn’t think of a single man that was her equal. She was either too old or too young, or too busy and too independent for most men she met.

She turned and looked at her reflection in the hall mirror. She didn’t look bad, either. She sighed. She didn’t think of herself as vain, but she did dress well for work. She had on her favorite purple business suit. It was the kind with a fitted jacket that skimmed the top of her low rise slacks. She had a shiny tank under her jacket. She felt very hip in this suit. Her hair was a good three inches up off her forehead, curls perfect, and not stiff. Her make-up, understated. She took a deep breath and stood up tall. She’d ask him to the dinner today or she’d never ask him. She thought about her ratings. Definitely, if she asked him at all, it would be while on air. People loved a private romance gone public.

She turned to his window again. It would be so much nicer if she knew he was a Christian man.

The producer nodded through the window, she opened the door, and went in.

“Hey, baby, in for a nooner?” Johnny winked and pushed a chair out for her.

Her stomach fell down to her knees and her face fell too. She didn’t want to go out with a man who thought that was funny.

She sat down. “In what world would you think that was an appropriate thing to say to a friend and a colleague?” Her voice was warm with hurt and disappointment.

“A man can dream, Mitz, a man can dream.” Johnny smirked at her and winked again. “And if I’m dreaming about you, it isn’t my fault. You look fine this afternoon. Who put that smile on your face, if you didn’t get it looking forward to seeing me?”

“Where is your brain today, Johnny? Your radio station is going broke and begging people to sit here and talk to you. You think I’m smiling because you made a rude pass? My livelihood isn’t dependent on what your listeners think of me.” Mitzy looked over at the producer. The producer shrugged. “You, however, have to come here everyday and talk to the kind of people who want conservative news, financial reports, and a traffic update. They want Dr. Laura for Pete’s sake. If you want people to pay their hard earned dollars advertising on your station you had better give a little thought to the kind of chatter you fill the air with. You don’t want to be the reason people tune out for good.”

“No, I was wrong. That’s not a smile and you haven’t been getting lucky. But how that long pole got all the way up—”

“That’s it, Johnny. You’ve lost the Neuhaus morning spot. You can explain it to the station manager.” She threw her headphones down and stormed out of the booth.

By the time she hit the hall tears were stinging her eyes. How dare he? How
dare
he!

Things were starting to come apart. Quitting her radio spot on the air in a hissy fit for comments she could have handled on a day she hadn’t wanted Johnny to be a nice guy—that wasn’t her style.

Nonetheless, she left the radio station and drove all the way home. She was done with work for the day.

Alonzo lay in his hospital bed with a pounding head, tuned in to Johnny Headly’s radio show. He had almost turned it off, when Mitzy joined him.

Mitzy was making herself out to be some kind of nun. He tried to picture her with her big hair and blue eye shadow dressed in a habit. His imagination rejected the long black robe. As much as he hated everything about her, he would hate to hide a good looking woman in a nun’s habit.

But he shouldn’t hate. He knew better. But was it okay to be incredibly aggravated by someone?

Alonzo got to thinking about his property issues again. He ought to get out of his little dump of an office, throw some paint on it, and get someone else in it.

And then what?

He really wanted an acre or so in the downtown industrial area. He was serious business and that’s where serious business went on. Sure, the Eastside had an industrial area, but it wasn’t the same. So why even bother with that dump of Neuhaus’?

He tallied its benefits. Location, location, location.

The commercial lumberyard. The stoneworks. The railroad. And if you can’t be on the Westside at least you can be right by the river on the Eastside.

The area would probably gentrify in the next couple of years as well. Perfect really. A few million dollar lofts and some money yuppies on the street—those were the kind of people he wanted walking past his Miramontes sign every day. Exactly the kind.

The thing was, there wasn’t a single building that size available for five miles in either direction. Everything was let already. The location was happening.

Caution told him he could bide his time and someone was sure to go out of business and vacate. But he wanted to fill his time, not bide it. He wanted to buy a property, fix it to suit and get a little renter in his hole of a place to increase his cash flow. Simple.

Mitzy was really pissed off—er—peeved off by that radio guy, and he was stuck in the hospital until later that evening. So he sat and listened to Johnny Headly throw his radio career down the toilet by talking smack about women in general right before the Dr. Laura show.
Why were people always so stupid?
he wondered.