“I have to have a pet-friendly place for Pickle as it is. What does it matter if it’s one dog or two? I know what Bear is, and I know he’s salvageable.”
Pam rolled her eyes. “Please, Torie, be reasonable. Have you seen the size of that dog? Really? In daylight?”
“No, but I know what he is. About a hundred and thirty pounds of misunderstood mutt. He needs a home, I need him. End of story. I’ll order a really big crate for him.”
To end the discussion, she got out of the car. She reminded herself not to look for her bodyguard. Focused on that, and on Pam, she hadn’t looked at the house on the listing sheet other than to note that it was big.
“Oh,” was all she could say. The house was neglected, that was obvious, but it had potential. “It’s great.”
“The fence is sagging, the gutters are full of crap, the grass is more like hay, and you say oooh?” Pam shook her head. “Maybe we should get your head examined.”
“Come on,” Torie said, ignoring the jibe. “Let’s see inside.”
“This is in an estate,” Kuhman explained as he removed the key from a heavy lockbox on the front porch rail. “The family cannot decide what they are to do with it.”
“It’s—” Torie was about to gush and say it was great, but Pam’s elbow hit her ribs and Pam gave a warning shake of her head. “In bad shape.”
“Yes, yes, but it was a beauty at one point.” Kuhman pointed out the details of the wood paneling, the inset brass diamonds in the floor tile.
Pam on the other hand, pointed out the drooping wallpaper, the foyer ceiling that canted slightly to the left, and the multitude of cracked window panes.
Torie let the two of them duke it out, since it was obvious they were enjoying their sparring. She wandered through the dining room, through a butler’s pantry, and into a hideously outdated kitchen.
“Oh, Lord, look at this place. No, Torie, you couldn’t possibly live here.”
She looked at the gleam in Pam’s eye and nearly laughed. Keeping to her role, though, she played along. Pam knew her well enough to know that she liked the house.
“It is pretty dilapidated. Especially this kitchen.”
“It’s right out of the nineteen thirties is what it is.”
“No, no, the appliances are new.” Kuhman pointed to a stainless steel dishwasher. It was so obviously new and out of place it was like a rocket ship on a sheep farm.
“One appliance,” Pam insisted. “Only one. The refrigerator qualifies as an antique. Jeez, Kuhman. Torie’s house burned, she’s not gonna be bringing appliances with her, you know.”
“Yes, yes, well maybe there will be some concessions from the owners. Come and see the rest of the house. They allow pets, you know. The old lady, she was fond of dogs, you see, and had several. They told me…” He rattled on about the old lady’s chihuahuas as they walked on, but once again Torie lagged behind, checking out the living room with its built-in bookshelves. While Pam and Kuhman argued over the fence and the need for repairs, she mounted the worn and creaking stairs to the second floor.
Light flooded the upper hall, gilding the wooden banister, and highlighting more falling wallpaper. The dust was thick as could be, and the bedroom doors creaked like a movie prop house.
“Wow,” Torie exclaimed, pushing open the door to the master bedroom. “Amazing.”
The balcony, the light, the huge bathroom, and the massive cedar-lined walk-in closet closed the deal. She could live here.
“Torie?” Pam followed her in. “Oh, check that out.” She, too, was captivated by the view of the huge backyard with its oaks and flower beds.
“Look at the closet,” she whispered, not sure if Pam was still in her bargaining mode.
“You like it?” Pam whispered back.
“Tons.”
“Don’t tell him, okay? Let’s be dismissive and see some of the others.”
“I don’t want—”
“I know,” Pam said in a louder voice, presumably for Kuhman’s hearing. “It’s a lot of work, and you already have that to look forward to in your own house. Let’s go.”
They left Kuhman to lock up, moving on to the see five more of the listings he’d found. By one o’clock they’d exhausted themselves and Kuhman. Several of the houses would be great, but the first was what she wanted, warts and all.
“So, which pleases you? Any of them? Or should we start again?” Kuhman made his pitch.
“I liked the last one, and the first one on Bodia Drive. I like the first one a lot, but they’d have to cut the rent in half for the first six months. With half rent, I could get the place cleaned and painted for them,” Torie said, frowning for form’s sake.
“You don’t want to get into that, do you?” Pam interjected. “I mean, I know I could help you find vendors and all that, painters, someone to do the kitchen, but you’ve got your own house to worry about.”
“If you would consider it,” Kuhman broke in, “I could talk to the owners. See if they would trade, ah, work on the house as exchange for rent, or perhaps a small fee to see to bringing it back to its glory, eh? They will sell it eventually.” He shrugged, watching both of them for a reaction. “But the way it is?” He made a face. “Difficult in this market.”
“Well, maybe if you checked with them?” Torie began, and Kuhman brightened.
“I will, I will. So I can reach you at this number?” He rattled off her cell phone number.
“So, how about lunch?” Pam said as they got back in the car. “We can talk about what you’re gonna do with that house, and yours.”
“I can’t. I need to get back to Pratt and Legend. We’re meeting with the detective.”
“Oh. Well, dinner maybe?”
“Yeah, that’s good. Would you do me a favor?”
“Sure.
“Isn’t there a hotel over on Parson? A big one? Like a Marriott or something?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Go get me a room, bring me the keys. I want to be out of Paul’s house tonight.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.” Torie had never been more sure. She’d realized sometime in the night that she had always been attracted to Paul, ever since they met under such terrible circumstances at the frat house. She suppressed a shudder. Thinking about that so much lately brought back all the fear, the feeling of being so out of control, without choices. It had been terrible. Every time she thought about it, the “what ifs?” of the whole scenario overwhelmed her with fear.
Fear that she’d transferred to Paul.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, thinking about all I have to do,” Torie lied.
“Uh huh.”
“Really. It’s kinda frightening, you know? I’m crazy, too, to think about a house like that. Have you seen my house?”
Pam gave her a sympathetic look. “Yeah. I drove by right after it happened. It was a huge shock.”
“Yeah.” She might have said more, but her phone rang. “Excuse me.”
“Ms. Hagen?”
“Yes?”
“Barbara at Pawlings Insurance?”
“Yes?”
“We’ve been notified by the police that your house has been released, and you can start work on it. If you’d like to pick up your preliminary check for expenses, I’ll have it ready for you by the end of the day.”
“Oh, thank you for letting me know. I’ll be by. I’m going to look at a car later today. Has there been any change on that situation?”
“Oh, yes, I’m sorry. I can get a check for you on your car by tomorrow.”
The memory of her car, a burned hulk, being towed away, made her shudder.
“Thank you for all your help.”
Pam pulled up in front of Pratt and waited as she finished the call. “Insurance?”
“Yeah. Let’s skip the rental. How do you feel about car shopping?”
“Love it.”
“Good. Then once I’m done at Pratt, let’s go visit the dogs, pick up some pizza, and go car shopping.”
“Sounds like a plan. We’ll talk about the house, too.”