3
Kell inspected the ceiling in the old laundry room. Normally, on Mondays his appointment book was filled with visits to prospective customers who wanted kitchen estimates. He’d done two last Friday, freeing up part of this week so that he could help with the demolition while he plotted the changes.
“Good work,” he said to Trent who stood on the top of a ladder in the center of the old laundry building attached to the garage. Trent had been hired for a nominal wage and free board. “We should get a couple of hundred for this.”
Trent grunted and shoved his crowbar under the hole he had made to remove the ceiling rose, cracking off half a sheet of plastered horsehair, which dropped to the floor amid the cloud of dirt and dust that had accumulated over a hundred years. Like Kell, he wore a white disposable coverall.
Kell moved out of the way, his eyes covered with one hand while he adjusted his facemask. “Do you like the garden next door?” he asked, still annoyed the little dickhead had threatened him with a spray can.
“It’s okay if you like classy gardens.”
“That’s what I thought. He’s got a gardener, a young lad.”
“How young?”
Kell shrugged. “Eighteen, maybe. The kid is working there alone, if you believe that.” He glanced up at Trent. “He threatened to tag me, but he’s not such a smart-arse as he thinks. I got him to tell me the name of the neighbor. He’s a judge.”
“You don’t see him around much.”
“His cars haven’t moved from the carport since we’ve been here. The house looks deserted.” Kell took a leap to the side. The next plaster length thudded to the floor, scattering the accompanying detritus to the far corners of the room.
“And an eighteen-year-old is digging in the garden?” Trent waggled his eyebrows, almost concealed behind the layers of filth dropped on him from the roof cavity. “If you see him burying something, you might want to make sure it’s not a body.” He laughed.
“He doesn’t look tough enough to dig a hole, let alone drag a body into it,” Kell said sourly. “He’s a skinny little thing.”
“It’d be interesting, though, if we discovered a serial killer.”
Kell started stacking the shattered lengths of ceiling. “It wouldn’t be interesting to kill a judge. It’d be downright bloody stupid. I’d start out with someone less noticeable, like a handyman.”
“But if you were killing so that you could steal money, judges earn a bit.”
“There you are!” said a satisfied female voice. The doorway darkened as Vix Dee, Kell’s sister-in-law entered.
Kell straightened, removing his mask to smile at the pretty blonde wife of his older brother, Jay, the architect who had found this property and advised Kell to take out a mortgage to buy the best deal Jay had seen in years, or so he said. “I hope you didn’t hear Trent plotting a murder.”
“No. I heard you. Which particular handyman do you plan to kill?”
“Other than Trent? None of us earn enough to make the effort worthwhile.” He brushed the dust off the shoulders of his coverall.
“I brought lunch for you both.” She smiled at him. “It’s not often you take days off work and since you’re taking those days off to do more work, I thought I could help by supplying food.”
Trent backed down the ladder. “Great.” He removed his mask and wiped his sleeve across his dirty face. “I can’t tell you how much I didn’t want to buy a pie.”
“Why would you buy a pie when you must have a houseful of leftovers from the barbeque last night?” Vix shook her head. She had contributed most of the leftovers, if not most of the main meal. She thought she had to feed the world, and her wealthy family certainly supplied more than their fair share of good healthy sustenance to the less fortunate.
“I ate the cold sausages for breakfast.” Trent, as skinny as three-ply, decided he needed more protein than Kell, who had to content himself with pretzels and a tomato salad, which he hadn’t particularly minded although he wouldn’t admit that to Trent who thought he had scored.
“I have a rather large basket of food I need to get rid of before everything spoils. You’ll have to come out to the car and get it. I wouldn’t be surprised if I had a few pork pies in amongst everything else, but I think it’s mainly the usual for this time of year—oranges, honey, pâtés, cheeses, a ham, rye bread, nuts, too, I think. I took out the fresh vegetables because I knew neither of you would, um, have time to cook healthy meals.”
Kell nodded, faking detachment, but he honestly thought Vix was the most adorable women he had ever met. He had never known anyone quite as generous as her, or quite so embarrassed by her wealth. He tried not to be embarrassed by her wealth, too. Accepting gifts he could never pay back was hard, but Vix knew this and suffered with every thoughtful gesture she performed. He and the others could do no less than appreciate her consideration.
“Since you brought bread, we could set up a table and stop for a while.”
“Fortunately, I brought a tablecloth, too.” She laughed.
Kell shook his head with rueful amusement and wiped his hands down the sides of his filthy coverall, catching Trent’s glance. They both knew she had come to fuss over them like a mother hen. When they were building the theater set she painted, she had done the same. Jay was the luckiest man in the world. But Jay had made his own luck. Kell intended to make his own, too.
Kell envied his brother nothing other than his wife, who he richly deserved. Jay was the older brother who had cared for his siblings the way a parent should, working to support them while their father drank. Kell didn’t like to remember the bad times, but since his toughness had been formed by the bad times, he had little choice. “Where did you park?”
“Out the front. You parked across the drive and so I couldn’t get in.” Her voice held a tone of accusation.
Kell nodded, indicating the plaster sheets on the floor. “I was about to pack this rubbish into the truck bed.”
Vix lifted her shoulders. “So, I sincerely hope I don’t embarrass you.”
Wary, Kell scratched his ear. He couldn’t guess why the way she had parked her car would embarrass him, but as he reached the driveway gates, he spotted a bright racing red in the street. “A Ferrari,” he said in awe.
She looked guilty. “Jay hasn’t seen it yet. He won’t be pleased, but I’ll only have it for a couple of days. My father sent over the basket in it. He thought it was time I had the Beamer serviced.”
“You shouldn’t let him boss you around like that,” Kell said, trying to sound severe. “Hell, if my father did that to me….” He glanced at Trent.
“And if my father did that to me…” Trent shook his head, his eyes bright with suppressed laughter.
She pursed her lips. “I know you both think I’m ungrateful, but I live in a conservative area of town. This car does not suit my lifestyle.”
“It suits mine.” Kell ran his hand over the polished hood. He wanted to lie there, arms outstretched, hugging the expensive car, but instead he shrugged and tried to look detached. At that moment, the gardener from next door poked his head out of the driveway of the judge’s house. His skinny face disappeared quickly.
Kell frowned. He hoped the kid wasn’t scouting before doing something nefarious, but what could the kid do? Steal a car? He seemed to have left an old heap of his own in the carport. The judge probably told him not to park on the street. A car like that would give the classy neighborhood a bad look.
“You know when we were talking about murder?” he said to Vix. “The neighbor next door is missing and a kid is hanging around the place.”
She