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Authors: Heather Webber
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me down even though I was a good two inches shorter than the height of the windowsill. He turned his back to me, his ear cocked.
My heart raced, but I managed to close my mouth. Blood pulsed through my ears, drowning out the voices inside the house. Adrenaline surged through my body, looking for an outlet. I swear I could see my chest pulsating beneath my T-shirt, my heart still pounding.
Was this what it was like to have a heart attack? The chest pain, the lack of air?
I couldn't help but look at the spot where Russ had fallen. To me, it looked like he had died quickly. I wondered if he'd actually suffered silently, a scream trapped in his throat.
Oh great. Now I was thinking like Ana.
I drew in a deep breath, let it out. I did that a few more times, glad I had seen Tam practicing her Lamaze breathing.
When I finally felt my pulse slowing, I whispered, "What are you doing here?"
He looked over his shoulder. "Same as you, I suspect. Shh."
Trying to talk Greta out of suing. I'd forgotten she threatened Lindsey with a lawsuit too.
Now that I had calmed a bit, I could hear the voices inside, through the open window above our heads.
"Greta," the man said, "don't play games with me. You'll be the one who gets hurt by them."
"Is that a threat?" I heard her say.
"Who's she talking to?" I whispered.
Bill shrugged.
"No, it's a promise," the man inside said.
I groaned.
I noticed Bill had ear hair as he said, "What?"
"What a lame line! 'No, it's a promise,' " I mocked. "Gag me. Obviously it's someone who watches too many B movies."
"You talk a lot."
"It's the adrenaline."
"I know Russ had them," the male voice said. "If he had them, you had them. And I want them back. Now. Russ had no right to them and neither do you."
The man's voice was young. Maybe twenties or thirties. This put my love triangle theory into serious doubt.
"What do you think he had?" I asked.
"If you'd be quiet maybe we'd find out."
Greta's voice was hard but tired. She sounded stressed. "I told you, I don't have whatever you're looking for. I don't know anything about it."
I eyed the kitchen window. Even if I stood up straight I wouldn't be able to see in. I looked at Bill. He seemed like a strong guy. "Boost me up."
Bill looked over his shoulder at me. "What?"
"Boost me up." I motioned toward the window. "I want to see who she's talking to."
The male's voice lacked patience. "The only reason the lawsuit is being dropped is so I could get them back."
Lawsuit dropped? The HOA lawsuit? "Did you know about that?" I asked Bill. According to Lindsey and Bill, the reason they paid for the Grabinskys' surprise makeover— and lied to me—was to prevent the older couple from being foreclosed upon by the HOA. But if the lawsuit had been dropped, then why go through all the trouble?
Bill made a makeshift sling with his hands. "No."
What would the Lockharts have gained by paying for the backyard makeover if there wasn't a lawsuit? People didn't spend twenty thousand dollars out of neighborly love, even if they had to look at a hideous backyard.
The male voice inside the house carried easily through the open window. "I don't like being blackmailed, Greta."
Someone had been blackmailed to have the lawsuit dropped. Blackmailed by Russ, apparently.
Definitely a motive for murder.
Not that Russ was murdered.
It had been a heart attack.
If I kept thinking that, then maybe it'd be true.
I slipped my foot into Bill's linked hands and used the brick exterior for leverage.
I stayed to the left of the window and peered in, a quick peep just to see where the two were standing. Greta stood in front of the sink, her back to me. All I could see of the man was his hands as he gestured. He stood too far left, near the back door.
"I want them back, Greta."
He wore a wedding ring. Not just a simple band. There was something unusual about it, but I was too far away to make out any details. I looked for a watch or any other identifying feature, but couldn't
My heart raced, but I managed to close my mouth. Blood pulsed through my ears, drowning out the voices inside the house. Adrenaline surged through my body, looking for an outlet. I swear I could see my chest pulsating beneath my T-shirt, my heart still pounding.
Was this what it was like to have a heart attack? The chest pain, the lack of air?
I couldn't help but look at the spot where Russ had fallen. To me, it looked like he had died quickly. I wondered if he'd actually suffered silently, a scream trapped in his throat.
Oh great. Now I was thinking like Ana.
I drew in a deep breath, let it out. I did that a few more times, glad I had seen Tam practicing her Lamaze breathing.
When I finally felt my pulse slowing, I whispered, "What are you doing here?"
He looked over his shoulder. "Same as you, I suspect. Shh."
Trying to talk Greta out of suing. I'd forgotten she threatened Lindsey with a lawsuit too.
Now that I had calmed a bit, I could hear the voices inside, through the open window above our heads.
"Greta," the man said, "don't play games with me. You'll be the one who gets hurt by them."
"Is that a threat?" I heard her say.
"Who's she talking to?" I whispered.
Bill shrugged.
"No, it's a promise," the man inside said.
I groaned.
I noticed Bill had ear hair as he said, "What?"
"What a lame line! 'No, it's a promise,' " I mocked. "Gag me. Obviously it's someone who watches too many B movies."
"You talk a lot."
"It's the adrenaline."
"I know Russ had them," the male voice said. "If he had them, you had them. And I want them back. Now. Russ had no right to them and neither do you."
The man's voice was young. Maybe twenties or thirties. This put my love triangle theory into serious doubt.
"What do you think he had?" I asked.
"If you'd be quiet maybe we'd find out."
Greta's voice was hard but tired. She sounded stressed. "I told you, I don't have whatever you're looking for. I don't know anything about it."
I eyed the kitchen window. Even if I stood up straight I wouldn't be able to see in. I looked at Bill. He seemed like a strong guy. "Boost me up."
Bill looked over his shoulder at me. "What?"
"Boost me up." I motioned toward the window. "I want to see who she's talking to."
The male's voice lacked patience. "The only reason the lawsuit is being dropped is so I could get them back."
Lawsuit dropped? The HOA lawsuit? "Did you know about that?" I asked Bill. According to Lindsey and Bill, the reason they paid for the Grabinskys' surprise makeover— and lied to me—was to prevent the older couple from being foreclosed upon by the HOA. But if the lawsuit had been dropped, then why go through all the trouble?
Bill made a makeshift sling with his hands. "No."
What would the Lockharts have gained by paying for the backyard makeover if there wasn't a lawsuit? People didn't spend twenty thousand dollars out of neighborly love, even if they had to look at a hideous backyard.
The male voice inside the house carried easily through the open window. "I don't like being blackmailed, Greta."
Someone had been blackmailed to have the lawsuit dropped. Blackmailed by Russ, apparently.
Definitely a motive for murder.
Not that Russ was murdered.
It had been a heart attack.
If I kept thinking that, then maybe it'd be true.
I slipped my foot into Bill's linked hands and used the brick exterior for leverage.
I stayed to the left of the window and peered in, a quick peep just to see where the two were standing. Greta stood in front of the sink, her back to me. All I could see of the man was his hands as he gestured. He stood too far left, near the back door.
"I want them back, Greta."
He wore a wedding ring. Not just a simple band. There was something unusual about it, but I was too far away to make out any details. I looked for a watch or any other identifying feature, but couldn't
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