It Started With A House: Lizzie. Book 1 (The Westport Mysteries) (12 page)

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.