Strange Neighbors (32 page)

   "I'm waiting with bated breath."

   She listened for a moment, then smiled and said. "He's as anxious as a cat in a roomful of rocking chairs."

   "Huh?"

   "Oh, sorry. He can't wait to hear what you have to say."

   "Well, I know it wasn't the government. I checked my sources with every agency and contrary to Chad's suspicions, it wasn't the CIA, the FBI, or even the PTA, for that matter."

   "Oh, groovy. A smart-ass detective making light of my murder."

   "Huh? What did you say, Chad?" She listened again for a moment.

   "I said to tell him to shove his jokes up his ass."

   "Oh, my! I can't repeat that."

   "Just ask him what he does know."

   Gwyneth nodded. "Okay, I'll ask him. Mister Mur… I mean, Joe, who do you think did it if not the government?"

   "Come on, you incompetent wretch. Maybe you could throw me a bone of hope before dashing my fantasies of you ever uncovering the conspiracy of the century and finding the murder suspect. After all, I gave you the motive."

   "I didn't say it wasn't some government, just not ours. Ask him if he heard the attackers' accents?"

   "Of course not. If I had I would have told you already. All they did was bust in, grab the papers off my desk and out of my typewriter, shoot me, tear the place apart, and disappear."

   She listened. "No, he says they never uttered a word. Just took the papers he was typin', shot him, and left the place a mess."

   "Ask him about their physical description. Anything he can remember. Their height, build, eye color… anything."

   "Gaaaa…!"

   "Now, Chad honey, be patient. He's tryin' to help you."

   "I told him this before. Two of them. Tall, thin builds, and wiry. They wore ski masks and all black clothing."

   "Uh-huh. Well, see now? That just might help the detective." She focused on Joe and said, "They were all black and wiry. Wore ski masks." Then she gazed at the ceiling again. "How about their eyes, Chad? Did you see their eyes? I find the eyes are the windows to the soul."

   "Yeah. Their eyes were blue. Ice blue."

   "Blue. That's fairly uncommon, isn't it?"

   "Wow, I'll say. Black men with blue eyes who ski? I'll have this case wrapped up in no time."

   "Dear God almighty. I said they were wearing black, not that they were black. Tell him he's a moron."

   "Oh, I'm afraid there's been a misunderstandin'. He said they wore black, not that they were black."

   Joe nodded. "That makes more sense. Is it possible they were Scandinavian?"

   "I don't friggin' think so. But, yeah, I guess they could have been. Hell, they could have been blue-eyed Eskimos."

   "He said they could have been Scandinavian—or blue-eyed Eskimos. I'm sorry. I guess that doesn't narrow it down much."

   "Blue-eyed Eskimos?" Joe cocked his head and frowned. "Oh, I get it. He's being sarcastic. Does he do that a lot?"

   "Oh, yes. All the time. But don't pay him no mind. He's just frustrated. Can you imagine what it must be like? Bein' a ghost trapped on this plane until you find your killer? He must think this mystery will never be solved. You are his last hope, Joe."

   Joe stood. "Tell him I'll do my best, ma'am. I don't have many contacts with foreign governments, so this may take a while longer. Ask Chad if he wants me to continue?"

   "You bet your bippy. If the residents ever want me to stop haunting this building, you'd better."

   Gwyneth cocked her head. "He says he's not goin' to leave us alone until he knows who did it."

   "Good. I mean, if that's the case, I'll continue to investigate, and please let Mr. Falco know about my visit when he returns. Thanks for your help."

   "It was an honor, Joe. You come back any time, you hear?"

CONVINCED THAT SOMETHING FUNNY WAS GOING ON, Dottie Falco crept through the hallways floor by floor. She pressed a shot glass against each resident's door, rested her ear against it, and listened.

   The girls upstairs must have been asleep, thank goodness. She didn't need an amplifier to know what went on in that apartment. She skipped 3A, figuring if she couldn't hear the ghost when he was speaking, she couldn't hear him floating around the empty apartment—or whatever it was he did in there. Besides, the place gave her the willies.

   On the second floor, she carefully, very carefully, tiptoed to Konrad's door. Remembering the incident on Halloween, she'd been wary of him ever since. Fleshcolored Halloween costume, my butt. And no matter what anyone said, that animal she had seen was a wolf. She had grown up in northern Minnesota, for God's sake. She knew a wolf from a dog. Its fur wasn't as thick as a timber wolf, but if it was an indoor pet, it wouldn't need as thick a coat. Damn Jason's soft spot for animals.

   She placed the shot glass between her ear and the door and listened intently. What was that sound? Panting? It was at times like this when she regretted not replacing the nine millimeter Beretta Ralph had found and given away. How dare he assume she'd only be dangerous with a gun. Now look what she had to resort to for protection. She glanced down at the rolling pin in her other hand. How cliché.

   Whatever she thought she had heard ceased. No sound came from Konrad's apartment. She waited another few minutes to be sure. Nope. She couldn't hear a thing through the door. The apartment might be unoccupied at the moment and the panting was her imagination—or perhaps the wolf had fallen asleep. Still intensely curious about what waited on the other side of that door, she shuddered.

   Conversely relieved and disappointed, she moved on. Light from a bright moon reflecting off the snow lit the first floor hallway through the glass front door. At the bottom of the stairs, Nathan's door stood ajar! What the…? She approached carefully, lingering on the last step, listening for any sound at all. Nothing.

   If he wasn't home and simply forgot to lock his door, what a stroke of luck that would be! She had always been curious about the dark, gloomy mortician—or whatever he was. She knew he did something with dead people at a hospital. Just thinking about it made her skin crawl.

   She took another two steps, paused behind the door, and listened carefully. Still nothing. Not a sound. So, like a thief in the night, she slipped past the door to the opposite wall and flattened herself against it.

   If anyone comes home right now, I'm toast. She glanced at the front door. No, I'm not. I live in the building too. I'll just say I had a dizzy spell and had to lean against the wall for support. I might even get some sympathy for a change.

   At last she steeled herself for the big moment. Taking a deep breath, she stole inside apartment 1A. The place was dark except for the light leaking around the drawn window shades. Why didn't I bring a flashlight?

   She didn't get two steps into the apartment before wild fluttering feathers beat her about the head and shoulders.

   "Ack!" She dropped the shot glass and rolling pin. She tried to pivot and run while covering her head, but the door slammed in her face. Panic gripped her as she swatted away the mad bird, only to be grabbed by a pair of strong hands an instant later.

   "What the hell are you doing in my apartment, Dottie?" Nathan yelled.

   "Being attacked by your damn bird! Where is the vile thing?"

   Now that her eyes had adjusted to the lack of light, she scanned the room's ceiling and corners. Only when there was no sign of the offending bird did she look at Nathan and discover he was… Eek! Naked!

   "Where are your clothes?" she demanded.

   "I was asleep, and you haven't answered me yet. What are you doing here?"

   She lifted her chin. "I was doing a late night check on the building and everything was fine, except your door was open. Anyone could have walked in."

   "And did, apparently."

   She broke free. "Where's that bird of yours?" Marching further into the apartment she said, "I want to see if it's the same one that's been flying around the halls lately. No wonder it gets out all the time, leaving your door open like that…"

   By the time she reached his bedroom, he was next to her again, clenching her arm tightly.

"The tour is over, Dottie. Now get out."

   "Not before I take a good look at that bird." She flicked on a light, took a quick peek, and twisted away. "And for God's sake, put on some clothes!"

   The light in the bedroom illuminated his meticulously made bed. "I thought you said… Mmmuph!"

   Nathan had slapped a hand over her mouth and held her arm bent behind her back at a cruel angle. "Now do you see what your nosiness has gotten you into? There's absolutely no need to go tiptoeing around the halls at night, and if I leave my door open, it's not an invitation to come on in and snoop. Do you understand?"

   He yanked on her arm and pain shot to her shoulder. She nodded frantically.

   "No, I don't think you do." His voice took on a deadly serious calm, more menacing than any growl or loud protest. "Now, don't move."

   He released the arm he had been pulling and blood flowed back into it. She wanted to sigh in relief, but his other hand still squashed her mouth. She had to free herself so she could bolt. Opening and closing her jaw, she bit down.

   "Ouch! You bitch."

   She took off toward the door but didn't get more than a few steps. Something tripped her and she tumbled to the floor. Oomph.

   Nathan landed on top of her. "Thanks, Chad."

   "Chad? That nasty ghost is here?"

   "Yeah. Now hold still."

   Dottie wriggled beneath him. "Get off of me, you naked pervert!"

   "It's time you learned to mind your own business, lady. What happens in the hallway may be public, but you stick one toe inside anyone's apartment and you're trespassing."

   She tried to respond, but as soon as she opened her mouth, something soft rammed past her teeth. She struggled but couldn't move her arms. He had them pinned. Panic set in and she thrashed back and forth for all she was worth. That's when her vision blurred and she passed out.

"What do you want me to do with her?" Sly looked over at the limp body lashed to a rickety chair in the basement—his basement.

   Nathan leaned against one of the stacked storage boxes. "Just watch her. When she comes to, we'll make her sweat a little before we let her go."

   "Are you out of your ever-lovin' mind? If she comes to down here, I'm screwed. She's not supposed to know I live here."

   "She doesn't have to know. You have your place hidden, right?"

   "Yes, but what am I supposed to do with her in the meantime? If the sun starts coming through those windows, I'll have to crawl into my hidey hole."

   "I'll be back long before that."

   Sly shook his head. "Why me? Why do I always have to baby-sit the problem people?"

   "Isn't it obvious?"

   "What? You mean because I'm a vampire?"

   "Of course. If she gives you any trouble…"

   "You want me to drain her if she doesn't cooperate."

It was a statement, not a question. A statement he hoped conveyed his disgust.

   "Not really. Just scare her a little. Face it, you're an intimidating guy."

   "I'll be sure to add that to my resume."

   A faint moan escaped their captive, and she righted her posture.

   "Oh, crap. She's coming to."

   "Just keep an eye on her for me until I fix my door with a hidden spring-loaded latch. I won't be long."

   Dottie's eyes fluttered open, then darted around the basement. When she spotted Nathan and Sly her eyes popped. Soon after, she must have figured out what they'd done because her eyebrows bunched together and a litany of muffled sounds leaked through the gag.

   "Now, now, Dottie," Nathan said. "My friend here is going to hang onto you for a little while. It's for your own good. Once you know just how upset people are about the invasions of their privacy, we'll take off the gag and allow you to apologize."

   More sound blasted through Dottie's gag and Sly was pretty sure he could guess what she was trying to say.

   "Bapherredz! Umpie mi if mimih!"

   "I'm sorry, Dottie. This was none of my doing," Sly said.

   "Ey dong caah. Et mi goo." She squirmed rigorously.

   "I would untie you except that Nathan is probably unsafe until you calm down."

   "Heh dethufs ta dah."

   "No one deserves to die, Dottie. But, in my opinion, you deserve a stern talking to—at the very least. What you did was breaking and entering."

Her expression and posture deflated.

   Nathan clapped Sly on the back. "Thanks. I knew you were the right para—I mean, man for the job. I'll only be a few minutes, I swear. The snow is coming down pretty heavy. I'll just run to the subway and make a quick trip to an all-night hardware store."

   "How quick? I can't think of any all night hardware stores around here."

   "There's a big one in Somerville. I'll fly over and it won't take more than an hour to grab what I need and ride the subway back."

   Sly groaned. "An hour? Hell."

   "Come on, man. Have you forgotten who gave you your key?"

   "You were supposed to keep your mouth shut about that."