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Close enough.She stuck her finger back in the potatoes and ate half the pile that way, slowly, sullenly, all alone in a house full of people.
Chapter 6
It was hot and stuffyin the house, hot and stuffy in the garage. Under Helen’s kitchen window, on a patch of grass that was mostly dirt, was the shadiest place in the yard. She was doing her reading for class there. She’d hoped by this point in the quarter that her program would be a little more interesting, but she was starting to realize that most cops were as incompetent as they appeared on TV, and none of her professors were like Columbo or Jessica Fletcher. Solving crimes involved tenacity, intelligence, and sheer dumb luck, and the majority of people in her classes weren’t cut out for it, though some would thrive in a lab or do fine with paperwork. But it was starting to haunt her that she couldn’t do the good she wanted to do without the weight of the federal government behind her badge. Of all the scenarios she’d spun about herself as a child, she’d never imagined herself in a boring career she couldn’t find her way out of.
Still, it was only the first quarter. She was determined to finish. Maybe things would pick up the more she got into the program. Her father had drilled into his children that they should stick things out.
She felt a slight breeze across the back of her neck and closed her eyes to savor it.
It was a rare day for her. She had no classes, and no one was home. She’d planned this day to catch up on schoolwork, and that’s what she was doing, heat or no heat. She had a little paper sack of jelly beans—it was too hot for chocolate—and every time she started drooping, she popped a few into her mouth and forged ahead.
She was three pages from the end of a chapter when the window above her slid open. She heard Helen say, “No, I’m home now. I have to get the kids in an hour.” Pause. “Yeah, the split shifts aren’t ideal.”
Annie froze. Her first instinct was to bolt, but that would only call attention to herself. There was no way Helen could see her under the window, even if she looked right out and down. The window was too high up, the ledge out too far, and Annie was in the shadows. She tucked her feet in closer and stayed still and quiet.
“That’s going fine, actually,” Helen continued. “I was nervous at first, but she seems really smart, and she’s quiet. And she pays her rent in cash.”
Annie closed her eyes. She was used to listening to other people’s conversations but hated listening to people talk about her.
“I’m not—I couldn’t say for certain,” Helen said and then paused. “Because I don’t want to speculate.”
She heard the faucet come on, heard the water falling into the sink and moving through the pipes in the wall. Then it shut off again.
“Okay, fine. She has this…one of those little beepers. You know, where you call it and it tells you where to call? And it goes off at the oddest times. Day or night.”
Annie opened one eye and looked at her bag of jelly beans. She reached out and stuck her fingers into the opening. The bag crinkled slightly, but Helen didn’t seem to hear it. She extracted three jelly beans and carefully pulled them out of the bag.
“I don’t thinkPretty Womanis accurate, no. She is really pretty but too smart for… I think, if anything, it’s an expensive escort service, Sal. She’s got skin like peaches and cream. I can’t stop ogling her sometimes. I feel like an old pervert. She’s prettier than Julia Roberts, anyway.”
Annie froze in mid chew, the three jelly beans crushed between her molars. Her eyes were wide open now.
Helen thought she was a prostitute. Actually, looking back on the way she’d offered to help Annie, that kind of made sense. And she’d been thinking about a better cover story. She could go on letting Helen think that. What could it hurt?
“Somewhere between Julia Roberts and Michelle Pfeiffer,” Helen said.
Annie rested her head against the side of the house.Jesus. She didn’t want to be hearing this at all. She didn’t want to know that Helen thought she was pretty, and she didn’t want to know that Helen had noticed her skin. Helen being attractive was something Annie had noticed and intentionally set aside. Helen had an ex-husband and three children and was just a nice woman who happened to let Annie into her life. There was no indication of anything else. But now? The knowledge that Helen thought she was pretty was an elephant in the room of Annie’s mind. Or maybe it meant absolutely nothing, and Helen admired her like one admired a finely made piece of furniture or a luxury car, but now the elephant was a permanent, unwelcome resident.
“Right. No one is Michelle Pfeiffer; that’s what I’m saying. She’s on that spectrum, though. Anyway, she’s going to be here Saturday for Ashley’s party, so you can meet her then,” Helen said and then laughed. “Yeah, I wouldn’t…I wouldn’t ask her that. No. Please don’t.”
Annie finished chewing her candy and then closed her notebook. She’d forgotten about the party. She should probably get the kid something.
“Okay, I have to go scrub the bathrooms before the…”
Helen’s voice faded away. Annie grabbed her stuff and headed for the garage. She closed the door quietly behind her, then dusted the dirt off her butt, watching it fall on the threshold.
She changed her clothes, put on some lip gloss, and crammed the book she was reading into her backpack. She double-checked that she had her pager and then stepped into her shoes. She had an idea what to get Ashley. She would go put her latest check in the bank, buy Ashley her present, and spend the rest of the day reading at the library.
Helen was standing in the doorway of the half bath when Annie walked through the house. She was holding a stiff brush in her gloved hands. The house reeked of bleach.
“Going out?” Helen asked casually, her voice in a low register that made even innocuous questions sound sensual.
“Yeah,” Annie said with a smile. “Duty calls.”
Helen raised her brush. “Me too.”
“But I’m still planning on Saturday, if you are.”
“Yes, of course,” Helen said.
