CHAPTER NINE
“Dad’s looking for you,” Jesse said. “Where in the hell are you?”
Trace was standing on Kiki’s back porch with two glass guys, watching the installation of the new back window. He had answered his brother’s call and now was faced with the question he had been waiting for all morning. Where in the hell are you? A workaholic with basically no personal life, he was always the first one in the office and the last one to leave; therefore, his absence would be noted.
Cell phone to his ear, he turned away from the glass workers and walked into the old kitchen. It seemed so empty without Kiki and that farting dog.
“Jess, I don’t even know where to start,” he muttered to his brother. “It’s all happened so fast I haven’t had a chance to talk to you about it.”
“Talk to me about what?” Jesse wanted to know. “Look, we had a meeting with the people from Cal Tech a half hour ago. You were supposed to be in on that meeting, remember?”
Trace nodded. “I remember,” he said. “But this couldn’t be helped.”
“What couldn’t be helped?” Jesse was getting irritated. “Start making sense.”
Trace found one of the two stools in the kitchen and lowered himself onto it. “Okay, here goes,” he said. “But don’t tell Dad, okay? This is something I need to tell him myself.”
“Uh… okay. What’s going on?”
Trace collected his thoughts before continuing. “You remember that I did an estimate on Jim Delohr’s sister’s house?”
“Yes, the one that Dad originally did.”
“Right,” Trace continued. “I don’t even know how to say this, but somewhere over the past three days, we’ve fallen for each other.”
Jesse didn’t catch on right away. “What do you mean you’ve… oh. Wait – what? What do you mean?”
Trace sighed. “Just what I said,” he replied. “She’s a wonderful woman and I’m crazy about her, like I’ve never been crazy about anyone in my life.”
On the other end of the phone, Jesse’s mouth was hanging open. “Are you insane?” he asked. “Is this the same brother who swore off women forever?”
“The same.”
“The one who said he’d never get close to anyone ever again?”
“Yes.”
“But you’ve only known the woman for three days!”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s been the best three days of my life. Look, I can’t explain it to you any better than that. I met a woman and… Jess, it was like love at first sight. I’ve never known anything like that in my entire life.”
Jesse was having a difficult time processing what he was hearing. He finally gave up, at least for the moment. “Really?” he said, his tone going from outraged to incredulous. “I don’t even know what to say to that. I would have never expected to hear that from you in a million years.”
Trace couldn’t disagree. “I know,” he muttered. “So you wanted to know where I am. I’ll tell you - this morning, I was heading over to her house before heading in to work and as I pulled up, there were cop cars and ambulances all over the damn place. Scared the crap out of me. Turns out someone broke into her house last night and she ended up killing the guy in self-defense, so I’ve been with her at the hospital all morning. Right now, I’m with the glass contractor having a new window put in to replace the one that was smashed in the break-in.”
He could hear Jesse hiss. “Oh, my God,” he said. “That’s terrible. Is she okay?”
“Yes,” Trace replied. “She’s okay, but she’s understandably shaken up and I want to secure the house for her to make her feel safer. I… I just really need to do this, you know? I want to help her.”
“I get it,” Jesse replied, his manner considerably softer than it had been moments earlier. “Wow, dude… it sounds like you really got yourself tangled up in the start of something.”
Trace grinned. “It’s all good, trust me,” he said. “I’ll call Dad in a while, but until then, don’t say anything to him, okay?”
“I won’t,” Jesse said. “Do you need any help? Want me to come over there and give you a hand?”
Trace looked around the kitchen, at the utility porch where the guys were sealing up the glass, and started thinking. “If you can spare an hour,” he said. “Come on over. Maybe you can help me figure out how to make this place more secure.”
“What’s the address?”
“899 North Raymond Avenue in Pasadena.”
“I’m on my way.”
“Thanks, Jess.”
He heard his brother snort on the other end. “You big dummy,” he said. “I just don’t want to see you get in over your head.”
Trace chuckled and hung up the phone. . He felt better with his younger, and very astute, brother coming over to figure out what more security measures they could do quickly on the house. He knew Kiki was going to want to return immediately and he knew there was no chance she’d stay away for any length of time. This was her house and she was going to live in it.
With a sigh, he headed to the second floor where the cleaning crew was just finishing up in the master bedroom. It was a specialty cleaning service Detective Bugh had recommended, one used to clean up crime scenes. The blood and gore was gone, the floors and walls sanitized, and they were bleaching out the old grout on the floor as a final step to remove any residual brown stains. Fortunately, it hadn’t been a horrible mess, but bad enough. As Trace stood in the doorway and watched them finish up, he had to admit it looked great.
He could hear voices downstairs. Assuming it was the glass guys getting ready to leave, he headed downstairs and realized the voices were coming from the front of the house. Peering out of the front door, he saw two young women standing near the old fountain. They were looking around, wandering up to the front door. He opened the front door wide.
“Hi,” he said simply.
The girls came to a halt. They looked confused, then they looked at each other, and started giggling.
“Hi,” one replied. She was giggling uncontrollably. “Sorry. I thought… isn’t this 899 North Raymond?”
Trace nodded. “Yes,” he replied. “Are you looking for someone?”
The girls were very giggly. “Yes,” the girl replied. “My mom. I’m looking for Kiki Conrad.”
Trace grinned when he realized who the girls were, but in the same breath, he was very surprised to see them. Kiki had made no mention that her girls were coming home and he was pretty sure she wouldn’t want them walking into the tail end of a crime scene.
“This is her home,” he said. “I’m Trace Rocklin. I’m her… contractor.”
The girls were still giggling as they approached, the more talkative of the pair extending her hand.
“Embry Conrad,” she said. “This is my sister, Esme.”
Trace shook their hands, one after the other. Although they looked similar, they weren’t identical; Embry looked a good deal like her mother with honey-colored hair and brown eyes, while Esme was slightly taller and had bright blue eyes and brown hair. They were gorgeous women, no doubt. He began to wonder what he was going to tell them about their mother’s whereabouts and set forth on that subject right away so the girls wouldn’t suspect anything odd. Whatever they were told about the situation, Trace was determined, would have to come from Kiki.
“Your mom…,” he began, then cleared his throat. “She’s at a hotel in town. The house had some damage and I’ve been working to make it livable for her.”
“Really?” Esme stepped up on the porch, very interested in the structure. “What kind of damage? It looks really old.”
“It is,” Trace followed her as she headed into the house. “Did your mom know you were coming? She didn’t mention anything.”
The girls both shook their head, in unison. “Classes are cancelled today so we drove up from San Diego this morning,” Esme said. “We wanted to see Mom’s new house. We wanted to surprise her.”
Surprise! Trace thought ironically. He stood in the open doorway as the girls wandered through the big sitting room and the connecting rooms beyond. The glass contractors were still making some noise so Trace’s story about fixing a “damaged” house held some truth. But he was worried about the cleaners upstairs and was preparing himself for their questions when the cleaners suddenly began coming down the stairs with all of their equipment.
“All finished,” the supervisor said as he lugged his wet-dry vacuum down the stairs. “We were able to get all of the stains out and then use a biohazard solvent to clean up any traces of body fluids. Take a look at it and make sure you’re happy with the job before we leave.”
Trace didn’t dare look at the girls. He took the steps, two at a time, and walked quickly into the master bedroom, examined it with all due haste, before making his way downstairs again.
“It looks fine,” he told them. “I gave you my card, right?”
The supervisor nodded. “I have it.”
“Send me an invoice at that address.”
The cleaning crew thanked him and hauled all of their stuff out of the house. By the time he turned around to look at the girls, they were gazing at him with some suspicion. Here it comes, he thought.
“What happened?” Embry asked.
Trace sighed uneasily. He didn’t want to lie to them, but he didn’t want to overstep his bounds, either. He gave them a rather indecisive expression.
“Do you want to see your mom?” he asked, avoiding the question.
Both girls nodded. “Where is she?” Embry asked.
Trace held out a hand to beg them for a moment’s pause while he went back to the glass contractor and told the man to lock the house up when he was finished. Then he dug his keys out of his pocket and headed out to the front of the house.
“Where did you park?” he asked.
Embry pointed out to the curb in front of the house. “Out there.”
Trace motioned to them. “Follow me, then,” he headed out the front door. “I’ll take you to your mom.”
The girls trotted after him, but it was clear they were confused and apprehensive. “Wait a minute,” Esme said, even though she was following him. “Is my mom okay?”
“Your mom is fine,” Trace said calmly. “I told you she was staying in a hotel a few miles away because I needed to repair some damage to the house.”
“But what did that guy say about body fluid?” Embry rushed up beside him as they made their way out into the front yard. “What did he mean?”
Trace shrugged, not looking at her as they neared the old wrought iron gate that led to the sidewalk. “I’m just the contractor,” he said. “You’d better ask your mom those questions.”
The girls were still apprehensive and confused. “Hold on,” Embry said flatly. “We don’t even know you. We’re not going anywhere with you.”
He came to a halt, turning to look at them. “You’re going to follow me in your car to the Pasadena Hilton,” he told them. “Your mother’s room is five-thirty-one. I will give you the key and you can go into the hotel yourself and up to her room. I won’t follow you, walk with you, or anything else, I promise. I’ll just take you to her. Okay?”
The girls looked at him dubiously, then at each other. Finally, Embry shrugged. “Okay,” she said. “But no funny stuff, okay? Anything weird and I’ll start screaming like a bitch. I’ll attract more attention than you can handle. Get it?”
Trace fought off a grin. “Got it.”
Embry’s gaze lingered on him. “Good,” she agreed, but it was stern. “Then let’s go.”
Trace did as he was told.
***
The girls had awoken their mother, and the dog, when they let themselves into the hotel room. Given what had just happened to Kiki, and the fact that she was startled out of a deep sleep, they also scared the crap out of their mother, sending her into hysteria until she realized who it was. After that, there were a lot of tears from their mom as the reasons for her being in a hotel room came tumbling out. The girls were traumatized right along with their mother.
But Trace hadn’t known any of that. He had taken the girls to the hotel, given them a key, and then waited a nominal amount of time out in the driveway in case they needed him before heading back to the house. Since the girls had a car, a cute yellow Volkswagen Beetle that suited them perfectly, he knew Kiki had transportation should she need it.
It felt odd for him to head back to the house and not go up and check on Kiki, but he didn’t want to push himself on her any more than he was already doing. He’d been rather bossy about their entire relationship up until this point, but now with her girls around, he thought it best to back off and let Kiki take the lead as far as her children were concerned. Everything was still so new, so exciting, and so uncertain.
So he went back to the house where the glass contractor had just finished sealing off the glass. Trace told the guy to send him an invoice, checking the glass for workmanship as the glass people packed up and left. Alone in Kiki’s house, he decided the next order of business was to figure out how to make the property more secure. The current state didn’t prevent a drug addict from breaking in and trying to kill Kiki, so he wandered outside and began to roam. He wanted to make it fool-proof.
To begin with, the property was fairly sizable. It was also surrounded by a massive, unkempt hedge that ran the entire perimeter of the property except for the garage area. That, and the driveway, was open to the street, which he didn’t like in the least. In this neighborhood, it was like an open invitation for trouble. As he was standing back by the garage, he caught sight of movement near the house.
Jesse was walking around the side of the structure, looking over the house, the yard, and anything else. His attention was everywhere. Trace let out a sharp, brief whistle between his teeth and Jesse finally caught sight of him. The tall, partially-balding brother waved as he made his way over.
“Man,” he hissed. “This is a hell of a place. Looks like Herman and Lily Munster live here.”
Trace gave him a half-grin. “No joke,” he agreed. “The glass contractor just finished up and I was standing out here trying to figure out what we could do, inexpensively, to secure the property so another crackhead can’t crash the place. Come on and walk with me.”
Jesse did. He noted the old, wrought iron fence and the massive growth of hedge that grew around it. He and his brother strolled across the grass and hacked through the jungle of overgrowth that Kiki had been trying to clear out on the south side of the front yard. They traipsed through the ivy that covered most of the west side of the front yard and out onto the sidewalk before they began to get a grasp of how the perimeter fence was laid out. Jesse began to point.
“This place isn’t all that insecure,” he said. “Look at this fence; it’s sturdy wrought iron and about nine feet high. See the spikes on the ends? The hedge covers that detail up. You can’t scale it.”
Trace was nodding as his brother spoke. He put his hands on his hips and looked around the yard. “You know what I think?” he said. “I think that guy just came in off the driveway. It’s wide open to the street and the gate lock is busted. He just walked right in because, seriously, I can’t see any other way for someone to get on this property. This fence is impossible to scale.”
Jesse nodded as they began heading back to the garage area. “We can go get a chain lock right now from the hardware store and secure the back gate,” he said. “We could also get about ten twenty-gallon juniper trees and plant them along the garage fence to give the house some privacy from that open driveway. Once those things grow in, you won’t be able to see a thing.
Trace agreed. “That will take care of securing this yard, at least for now,” he said. “We need to get a lock on that front gate, too.”
Jesse eyed the gate. “I would suggest getting an entirely new gate, period. That one isn’t all that steady.”
Trace nodded, thinking of a few fence contractors he was going to call. Then he began moving towards the house. “Come inside and see this beast. It’s really something.”
Jesse followed him inside. He was met by the smell of must, dust, and over a century of old wood and plaster. From the floor to the built-in hutch in the dining room, built-in bench in the entry way, and every single wall of the house, it was old beyond old. Jesse’s eyebrows flew up.
“Holy smokes,” he exclaimed softly. “Look at this place.”
Trace was by the stairs, running his hand on the intricately carved banister. “I know,” he said. “Take a look at this staircase and the medallion on the ceiling with the light fixture hanging out of it. They don’t make them like that anymore.”
Jesse couldn’t keep his mouth from hanging open. “Amazing,” he said, noticing the windows. “Look at the Tiffany windows. Original?”
“Probably.”
Jesse looked around again and began wandering. “This built-in hutch is incredible,” he said, running his hands over the wood. “Look at the key holes for the drawers; every one of them is etched bronze.”
Trace grinned at his brother, so entranced by the old house. “Look at the door knobs,” he said, pointing to the old door that led into the kitchen. “Crystal door knobs and etched bronze fixtures. I could go on and on. Original flooring in the kitchen and throughout the house, stained glass windows in the dining room, and then upstairs there are four big bathrooms with all original tile and clawfoot tubs. The guy that built this place spared no expense, that’s for sure. In its day, it must have been a hell of a showplace.”
Jesse wriggled his eyebrows. “That’s an understatement,” he said. “Show me the house.”
Trace did, as if the thing belonged to him and he was eager to show it off. In fact, he felt a certain pride showing the place, even in its run-down state, because, even in its present condition, it didn’t matter. It was still a jewel of a house, waiting to shine again.
Trace took his brother all around the downstairs, showed him the walls, the hutches, the original light fixtures, and then took him upstairs to see the five large bedrooms. He even took him up in the attic. All in all, Jesse was more in love with the place than Kiki probably was and he has a host of ideas on how to fix the place up. But Trace had to call him off, reminding him that they were only there to ensure the perimeter was secured.
Locking the house up, they jumped into Trace’s truck and headed down to the home supply store that was about a half-mile away. They picked up chains and padlocks, wandering out into the garden section and seeing that the store happened to have several giant shrubberies, all over six feet high. When Jesse tracked down an employee, the man said they had just gotten the shipment in, so Jesse and Trace bought ten of them to cover the back fence and provide some privacy off the driveway. Trace couldn’t get them all in his truck so they had to make two runs to bring everything back. And with that, the brothers dug in for the afternoon.
They had their work cut out for them.