“Bella?” I’d already called her name several times to no avail. Had she somehow gotten outside? “Come on, girl, we’ve got a lot to do today.” My heart kicked into overdrive.
I glanced down at Daisy. “Do you know where she is?”
Daisy padded to the second bedroom that served as my office. I followed. Bella stuck her head out from behind the pillows on the daybed and tilted her head as if to say, “What?”
“Why don’t you bark when I call out your name and you’re hiding?” I picked her up. “You bark plenty of other times for no reason. I understand that you don’t like your halter and leash… Oh, never mind. You three have never wandered off before. But if you do, I’ll never let you walk freely outside again.”
Bella regarded me with enormous, amber-colored eyes that held not a shred of remorse. I pressed my nose to the top of her silky head for a moment before setting her down. She trotted past me as if the whole episode had been my fault.
Minnie waited by the front door, her fuzzy tail wagging furiously. All three of them were assembled by the front door before I’d even gathered my things, which told me exactly who was running this household. And it wasn’t me.
Ignoring the leashes hanging by the front door, I put on my tool belt, grabbed my to-do list and a handful of late notices to distribute, then led my three girls out the door. I locked it behind me and glanced at my list. Broken sprinkler head. The grounds crew could handle that one.
Due to tight funds, I’d had to cut my handyman crew down to two days a week. They handled the big repairs that needed doing, which left the smaller ones to me. It wasn’t how my Aunt Ruby had run things, but then, Aunt Ruby had left me Riverside Towers under circumstances that were more complicated than a simple inheritance. The building’s books, when I’d finally gotten a clear look at them, had told a story I was still working my way through — a story of deferred maintenance, unpaid vendors, and tenants who’d grown accustomed to paying whenever the mood struck them. I was slowly untangling the mess, though some days the knot seemed to tighten the more I pulled at it.
My gaze moved to the second item on the list. Light out in the laundry room. I could manage that easily enough.
“Come on, girls.” I fetched a ladder and a fluorescent light from the storage room and headed for the laundry room.
The laundry room smelled the way laundry rooms always do — a combination of dryer lint, fabric softener, and something slightly damp that never fully dissipates no matter how many times you mop. Daisy sneezed. I set up the ladder, tucked the new bulb under my arm, and climbed.
I’d just removed the burned-out bulb when the door opened.
“Crystal Waters on a ladder is an accident waiting to happen.”
I glanced down at resident number 106. “Good morning, Mrs. Henderson.”
The woman was dressed, as she always seemed to be regardless of the hour, in a pressed blouse and slacks, her silver hair set in the kind of rigid waves that suggested a standing appointment at a salon. She carried a small laundry basket under one arm and what I’d come to determine as a permanent frown.
“Don’t you pay someone to do these sort of things?” She crossed her arms.
“I’ve cut them down to two days a week.” I grabbed the new bulb. “I’m perfectly capable of doing minor repairs.”
“If you say so.” The woman’s gaze landed on the overdue notices tucked beneath my arm. “If you’d get rid of the deadbeats and get tenants who paid their rent, you could afford full-time help.”
“Sometimes there are extenuating circumstances.” Bulb in place, I climbed down from the ladder. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a lot of work to do.”
Mrs. Henderson did not move. I had learned that the fastest way through a conversation with Eunice Henderson was to let her finish rather than attempt to cut her off.
“Are you aware that Victor Hale hasn’t been seen leaving his apartment for three days?”
“I don’t keep track of everyone’s coming and going.” I folded up the ladder and glanced at the next thing on my to-do. Delivering the late notices. I sighed and leaned the ladder against the wall to retrieve later. “Excuse me, Mrs. Henderson.”
She stepped aside, but only barely. “Your aunt was a much better apartment manager.”
“I’m sure she was.” I fought not to roll my eyes, called the girls to follow me, and marched around the complex handing out notices.
It was the part of the job I liked least. There was no version of sliding an overdue notice under someone’s door that felt anything other than unpleasant, no matter how diplomatically worded the notice was. I tried to be reasonable. I tried to remember what it felt like to be short on money and dreading the sound of a knock. But the building had bills too, and sympathy didn’t cover the water bill.
At number 108, I knocked and left a notice when there was no answer. At 111, Mrs. Park opened the door before I could knock, accepted her notice with a quiet dignity that made me feel terrible, and assured me she would have something for me by Friday. I thanked her and meant it.
By the time I reached the far end of the corridor, the girls had begun to lose interest in the errand. Minnie sniffed the baseboards. Daisy had found a patch of sunlight from the window at the end of the hall and laid down in it. Only Bella stayed close to my heels, her small nails clicking against the tile with every step.
At number 114, Victor Hale’s, I knocked. “Mr. Hale, I know you’re in there. I saw your car in the parking lot.” I knocked again.
No answer. I pressed my ear briefly toward the door and heard nothing. No television, no radio, no sound of movement.
The three dachshunds put their noses to the bottom of the door and whined.
That got my attention. Daisy, Minnie, and Bella were many things — stubborn, dramatic, possessed of opinions about everything — but they didn’t whine without cause. Bark yes, but whine…no. Their bodies were low and intent, and none of them looked up at me when I spoke.
Something cold settled in my chest.
“Mr. Hale?” I reached for the master key hanging from my toolbelt. “This warrants a well check, Mr. Hale. I’m coming in.” I unlocked the door and pushed it open.
“Oh.” I covered my nose and mouth as I was greeted by a sickly odor. It wasn’t quite like anything I could name precisely, though some part of my brain recognized it anyway. “Mr. Hale? Is everything okay? Your rent is twelve days due, and the late fees are adding up.” My voice came out steadier than I felt.
I turned on the light and stepped farther into the room.
Victor Hale’s apartment was tidy in the way of a man who had lived alone for a long time. A folded newspaper sat on the end table. A coffee mug had been placed in the dish rack to dry. The curtains were drawn.
I spotted the top of Victor’s head over the back of his armchair and stepped around to face him. He looked like he was sleeping. The kind of deep, still sleep that could almost convince you everything was fine if you didn’t look too closely and if the smell wasn’t what it was.
I shook him. He tumbled forward and landed at my feet.
“Oh, Lordy.” This wasn’t the first dead body I’d seen, but I doubted I would ever get used to seeing one. There was something about the utter absence of a person in what had so recently been a person that never became ordinary, no matter what you told yourself in advance.
I stepped back, my heel catching on the edge of the rug. I grabbed the back of a dining chair to steady myself and stood there for a moment, breathing through my mouth, telling my heart to slow down.
The three dogs streaked past me toward the back of the apartment.
- Publisher : Winged Publications
- Publication date : May 23, 2026
- Language : English
- Print length : 214 pages
- ISBN-10 : 1972624040
- ISBN-13 : 978-1972624043