Traci Tyne Hilton - Mitzi Neuhaus 04 - Frozen Assets (12 page)

“Don’t you mean ‘who’?”

“That, too.” Mitzy scooched closer again. “The current girlfriend, the ex-girlfriend, the ex-wife, the son—they all have different stories.”

“Kind of like they all saw it from a different perspective.”

“Yeah, like the story of the blind monks and the elephant. One felt the trunk and thought it was a snake, one felt the leg and thought it was a tree, that kind of thing.”

“You’ve talked to everyone. What do you see when you put their stories together?”

Mitzy scratched the back of her neck. “Nothing. I see a jerky guy who wanted what he wanted no matter what.”

“And what do they see?” Alonzo yawned again.

“Kind of the same thing, I guess.”

“So you’re all right.”

“We’re all right about his character, but none of us knows why he was at Karina’s house that night.”

“Karina probably knows.”

Mitzy frowned. “She swears she doesn’t.”

“Didn’t you just say they were all liars?” His voice was beginning to fade. Far from marriage being one long slumber party, Alonzo was a man, so he had a habit of falling asleep rather than talking all night.

“But not Karina. She’s the truthful one.”

“Because she found her dead ex-husband at her house? I don’t know that I would say that automatically makes her the honest one.” He rolled onto his side, back to Mitzy.

“Well, goodnight, then,” Mitzy said.

“Hmm, goodnight.”

Mitzy rolled over to spoon with her husband, glad to have him despite his lack of interest in all-night gab sessions. He felt solid and good in her arms, but it didn’t help her sleep. She turned the problem of Karina over and over in her head. She was the honest one, in all of this. And really, only Jason seemed like a big, fat liar. A quick chat with Zachary about the hulking man across the street wasn’t likely, so she’d have to ask Karina and hope she was feeling up for a chat.

Around two in the morning, Mitzy finally fell asleep.

At five, her cell phone rang with the Neuhaus New Homes jingle.

She shot up, and reached blindly behind her, looking for her phone.

She knocked the bedside lamp over, and something shattered.

She rubbed her eyes.

The phone had stopped.

She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes. Who? Why?

Alonzo was already up for the morning.

She flopped back down on her pillow, but the phone rang again. This time she reached slowly to the table next to her bed and picked up her phone.

It was her mom.

At five in the morning.

Teachers’ hours stunk.

“Good morning, sweetie!” her mom chirped.

“It is five. In the morning.”

“Well, you’re an early riser, always have been.”

Mitzy yawned. “I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Oh, you newly-weds.” Her mom snickered.

Mitzy pulled the pillow over her face and groaned.

“I just got off the phone with your grandma.”

“At five in the morning?”

“Older folks don’t sleep late like you kids do. She’s really hoping you and Alonzo will stay the whole weekend for Christmas. I know you told me you’d call and talk later, but you hadn’t yet.”

Mitzy threw her pillow across the room. “You’re in luck. We talked it over last night and we’ll be there.”

“Oh! You’re a good granddaughter. Okay, well, that was all really. I’ll call Grandma and tell her. And you guys can bring the salad.”

“Fine.”

“Enough for all of us for the whole weekend, okay? We don’t want your cousin to have to do all of that cooking while we are there.”

“Yes, yes. Fine.”

“Don’t forget.”

“How could I?”

“Okay, well, have a good day. Love you, Mitz.”

“Wait, one more thing.” Mitzy yawned. “Will you email me the days and times and stuff? And don’t call Grandma until I talk to Al about what time we can get there. We agreed we’d go, but we haven’t hammered out the details yet.”

Alonzo walked into the bedroom with a cup of coffee. “I heard the phone,” he whispered.

Mitzy took the mug, but she wasn’t happy about it. She had sort of liked the idea of going back to sleep after her mom hung up.

“What, Mom? Alonzo was talking. I didn’t catch that.”

“I’ll email everything,” her mom said.

“If you know when everyone else is showing up, let me know that too, so we can try our best to be there at the same time.”

“Be where?” Alonzo stretched across the bed.

“At the farm for Christmas.” Mitzy put her finger to her mouth to hush him.

“Okay, I will. I’ve got to run, sweetie. Days are short in the winter!” Her mom hung up.

The “day” hadn’t started yet and wouldn’t for a few more hours. The sky was as dark as night still.

“I did agree to that, didn’t I?” Alonzo rested his coffee mug on his chest.

“I hope you don’t regret it.”

“Nah. It will kill my mom, but it will be fine.”

“Well, that’s something.” Mitzy tugged at the blanket. Al had it pinned down so it wouldn’t pull up.

“What happened to the lamp?”

Mitzy sighed. “I did. I guess I’d better get up, after all.” She threw the blanket off and stepped around the glass from the broken lampshade.

“How far is this farm again?”

“Not too far.”

“So we could still do the day after Christmas with my folks.”

Mitzy stepped on a piece of glass. “Ouch!” She picked it out of her big toe, a little red dot of blood the only evidence of what she had done to herself.

“Or not. Sorry.” Alonzo took another drink from his coffee.

Mitzy cleared up the pieces of broken lampshade.

“So, what are we going to do tonight?” he asked.

She tossed the shards of glass in the garbage can, wondering vaguely if she was supposed to recycle them instead. “What’s tonight?”

“Nothing big, just our first anniversary.”

13

Mitzy floated through her morning. The wedding, just a year ago, the Baptist convention, the fight at the courthouse, the way her old buddy Ben’s girlfriend suddenly stood up for her despite at least a year of animosity. It was a memorable day, if not a picture-perfect one.

She headed to her Portland-Metro Realtors Association meeting with a light heart. Alonzo hadn’t forgotten the anniversary. Alonzo had a surprise plan. Alonzo may well be the perfect husband.

Mitzy took the Ross Island Bridge across the river to the Portland State University Urban Planning building where the Realtors were meeting. Today’s topic: Short Sales: Fast and Sweet. Mitzy grimaced. Earlier in the year, they had asked her to teach it, but she had declined. It was her anniversary, and you shouldn’t be asked to teach false hope on your anniversary.

Her anniversary.

She smiled. Even a worthless lecture wouldn’t ruin her day.

The room was packed. Apparently everyone was sick of sales that took a year to process. If there was a secret to getting it done fast, people wanted to know. Mitzy grabbed a coffee and reached for a donut. Voo Doo. She gagged a little. Though the box didn’t have any of Voo Doo Donuts’ more… anatomical… offerings, it did have the “blunts,” and the thought of eating a donut shaped like a giant marijuana cigarette wasn’t appealing.

Mitzy sat next to an older woman eating a pink bubble gum donut and a tall balding man with a “blunt.”

“Mitzy.” He nodded.

“Hi.” She smiled, but she didn’t know him.

“Roy.” He had a look on his face that said she really should know him.

“Good morning.” She took a sip of her coffee.

The woman next to Mitzy didn’t look up from her phone.

“I’ve got two clients who have been waiting on a short sale for over eight months,” Roy said. “If this class can show me how to speed it up, it will be well worth the price of parking.”

“Agreed.” Mitzy scrolled through texts on her phone. Alonzo had sent several since he had left… counting down the hours until their date.

“How about you?” Roy asked. “Have any offers stuck in the system?”

“Who doesn’t?” Mitzy went with vague. She didn’t. She always strongly discouraged her clients from sitting on a short sale offer. She found it was the very rare family who could handle the stress of waiting. Yeah, she did help some of her clients buy short sales, but it wasn’t for everybody.

Roy sighed. “You going to the PMRA Zoo Lights thing?”

“The fundraiser?” Mitzy looked around to see if their speaker was headed to the podium. “Nah. I’m going to be out of town.” She smiled again. She was extra glad they had worked out the Christmas plans as it meant she had a conflict for the two-days-before-Christmas fundraising event.

Roy stared at Mitzy as though he expected her to say more or to remember something. She gave him a vague smile.

“You have no idea who I am, do you?” he finally said, with a laugh.

“I am so sorry. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

“It happens.” Roy stood up. He was even taller than he had looked sitting down. He wasn’t thin so much as trim, his short-sleeved golf shirt showed off his bulging biceps. Mitzy was glad to see a winter coat draped over his chair. It was freezing outside. “We went to youth group together. About twenty years ago.”

Mitzy laughed. “Roy! Oh my gosh. I am so sorry. Of course I know you.”

“You haven’t changed at all—not even your hair style.” Roy rubbed his bald head. “But I guess I have a little.”

“Actually,” Mitzy said, “you look good, and if I hadn’t been preoccupied I would have known you immediately.”

“Preoccupied?”

“It’s my anniversary!”

“Congrats. The wife and I are going on eleven years ourselves. How long have you been in for?”

“One. This is the first anniversary.”

“Ahh, honeymooners. That explains everything.” Roy wandered off to the coffee and donuts.

Still no sign of the speaker, so Mitzy began searching the new listings for something Bonnie and Dirk might like. Not that she felt comfortable selling to them now. Not with Dirk’s wandering eye.

Dirk was also a tall, strong, young man. What if… She let her mind wander to absurdities for a moment. What if he had suggested English Cottages because he needed to see Ulrike? What if he needed to see her because he had been the one to pull Arnold to his death?

She froze over her phone. Weirder things had happened, surely. If Dirk had been behind the death, that would explain his sudden change of plans house-wise and his late night visit to Ulrike, even more so if Ulrike and Dirk had both been behind it.

Which did Mitzy prefer: a young husband who wasn’t committed to his marriage, or a young husband who was perfectly committed but also happened to be a murderer?

Roy came back with a coffee cup. “These donuts are… different,” he said. “Ever had them before?”

Mitzy shook her head.

“Honeymooning again?” he laughed.

“Something like that.” Mitzy held out her phone and made an apologetic face. “Have to run.”

Bonnie worked at a gym in Gresham. Mitzy decided she ought to go see her and chat about the future. It was more important than learning that there really was nothing you could do to speed up a short sale.

Traffic was nonexistent, so Mitzy found herself hunting for parking in downtown Gresham in a matter of minutes. Bonnie’s gym was a little storefront place on the Main Street strip. The area was small on parking but big on charm. Mitzy parked behind the fro-yo shop.

The day was cold and wet but not quite cold enough to snow. Just a wet, dismal kind of day. She kicked her way through puddles of slush, looking for the small women-only gym that Bonnie helped manage. Since there wasn’t room in her own house for a treadmill anymore, Mitzy thought perhaps she’d even join it while she was in to talk.

She spotted the sign ahead and paused. What exactly did she want to say? Was she planning to ask if Dirk or Bonnie knew the English family, or was she planning on telling Bonnie about running into Dirk at the Cottages office? It was hard to decide, and the answer lay in which Mitzy thought was most likely. Was Dirk just a jerk, or was he a killer?

The gym had exposed brick walls, bamboo floors, and way too much pink inside. Mitzy wasn’t sure if she could work out surrounded by so much pink. She spotted Bonnie at the counter, reading something on her Kindle.

Mitzy waved from across the room, and then joined her. “Good morning.”

“Hey.” Bonnie put her book down. She had bags under her eyes. “What’s up?”

Mitzy chewed on her bottom lip. “I popped over to English Cottages the other night to talk to Ulrike in the office.”

Bonnie’s bottom lip quivered.

“And I ran into Dirk there.” Mitzy tilted her head in sympathy.

“I know. Oh, Mitzy, I’m just sick. He put a deposit down. He put a deposit down on a tiny house without telling me. I tried to buy a pizza for dinner and my card was denied.” Bonnie pressed her fingers to her temple.

More lies? Mitzy took a step back. Had Ulrike outright lied to Mitzy about the visit from Dirk, or had she just withheld some information? Or had Dirk lied to Bonnie? Of course, if her card hadn’t cleared, then the deposit must be the truth.

“Are you going to be okay?” Mitzy asked.

“No. I’m not. I stayed at my parents’ last night.”

“What did Dirk say about it?”

“He said I didn’t have to move with him if I didn’t want the house.” Huge tears rolled out of Bonnie’s eyes. “Merry Christmas, right?”

Mitzy reached across the counter for Bonnie’s hand. She’d have hugged her if the four feet of laminate desk space hadn’t been in the way. “Listen, I’m here for you, whatever you need. If Dirk asks me for any help with this sale, I will turn him down.” The second commission she had abandoned in a week. Good thing business was going well for Alonzo this year.

Bonnie was in no shape to chat in the middle of the gym and couldn’t take a break, so Mitzy left her. She drove to her office for the first time, and sat alone, staring at her computer screen. So much computer time, so few houses to sell.

The little chime from her phone pulled Mitzy out of her doldrums. Another text from Alonzo. This time: Proverbs 18:22. To her chagrin, she had to look it up. Alonzo’s new-believer enthusiasm for memorizing the Bible put her own lack of the same to shame.

The verse put a smile pack on her face.
Whoever finds a
 
wife
 
finds a
 
good
 
thing, and obtains favor of Yahweh
. There was a time when the confirmed bachelor he used to be wouldn’t have said that. And Arnold… Mitzy shook her head. He seemed to think he could find favor over and over again. She clicked back to her homes search.

When lunchtime rolled around, Mitzy locked up shop. She considered hopping upstairs to eat with her husband, but he didn’t do well with surprise visits. Instead, she made her way to the little café down the block.

At the crosswalk, a honking horn grabbed her attention. Bonnie was across the street in a big, safe SUV, looking much warmer than Mitzy felt standing on the sidewalk. Bonnie waved her arms around and honked more. Mitzy exhaled. Better to eat lunch while consoling her client than to eat lunch alone. And maybe Bonnie would be able to answer those nagging questions about how well Dirk knew the English family. Mitzy pointed to the coffee shop. When Bonnie nodded, Mitzy went on and found them a table.

Mitzy’s coat was damp from the frosty rain, and her nose and cheeks were nearly frozen. She held her hot coffee with extra cream up to her face, letting the steam warm her.

Bonnie swirled her spoon around her bowl of soup. “I just don’t know what changed. All of a sudden, he’s just a different man.”

“How much does he know about the English Cottage company?”

“What do you mean? Is there something awful we need to know about?” Bonnie’s face was already sad, but a hint of fear entered her eyes.

“No, nothing like that. He just seems very attached to them, like maybe he knew the family or someone on the staff.”

“Or that blonde girl at the office. I hear what you are saying.” Bonnie took a spoonful of soup, but poured it back into her bowl.

Was that what she was saying? Potential infidelity was the most reasonable problem, but first, Mitzy had to know Dirk’s connection to Arnold. “But did he know the English family? I know they had two sons…. had Dirk gone to school with them?”

“Dirk and I went to school together. No English family there that I know of.”

“What about sports? Could he have known them in baseball or soccer? I’m just thinking… you know, Todd English died rather young and not that long ago. Maybe Dirk just wants to do this because they had been friends?”

“I’ve never heard of him. How old was he?”

“I think he would have been about twenty-six or twenty-seven now.”

Bonnie shook her head sadly. “Oh, no. Dirk wouldn’t have known him, then. That’s really old.”

Mitzy stifled a snort.
Twenty-six, old
.

“Dirk just turned twenty-one two weeks ago.”

Children. These two were children. She’d sold houses to twenty-one year olds plenty of times before, but every year that passed made twenty-year olds seem younger and younger.

“So, you’re pretty sure he doesn’t have any emotional attachment to the English Cottage company? He just likes the small houses?”

“At least he didn’t have before he met that blonde.”