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Authors: Orest Stelmach
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in the Hartford area. And the absolute last place he expects me to go is the scene of the crime. That’s why, for now, this is as safe a place as any for me to be.”
“Yeah. For now.”
“And by the way . . . After tonight, I don’t want you involved. I don’t want you in harm’s way.”
I needed Roxy tonight to get access to my godfather’s house. As his niece, she had been his emergency contact and had a copy of the front door key.
“Yeah, yeah. Poor Diana. Doesn’t want to be beholden to no one. Always the loner. Didn’t have any friends growing up. Doesn’t have any friends now. Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. Spare me your martyr complex. I brought you potato pancakes, you know.”
She lifted the paper from the plate. I caught another whiff of fried potatoes and onions. Under less urgent circumstances, it would have dissolved my morning willpower.
“Smells like heaven. You didn’t tell me you were moonlighting at the Uke National Home.”
“Money’s getting tight. Our savings are tied up in a condo complex and my husband the real estate mogul can’t move the units. He built them high-end in a middle-class neighborhood in New Britain, genius that he is. But that’s not what irks me. One day he tells me to stop spending, and the next day he comes home with four hundred dollars worth of parts for his vintage Mustang.”
“Ouch.”
“You make your own money. You don’t have to depend on a man. Don’t ever give that up.”
I thanked God it was dark in the car so Roxy couldn’t see me blushing. This was a perfect moment for me to tell her I’d been fired six months ago during the latest round of job eliminations and that I was unemployed, but I nodded instead. I told myself I didn’t want to distract her from the topic at hand but in truth I was too embarrassed to be honest with her. Roxy looked up to me because I had a career. Other than my job, I had nothing else. I knew it, and she knew it, too. I couldn’t stand the thought of her thinking I was a failure.
We enjoyed some silence until we got to East Hartford. My godfather’s house was an old multifamily home off Burnside Avenue. When he’d bought it in the seventies, it was probably a purely residential neighborhood. Now it was a mishmash of body shops, ethnic restaurants, and housing projects. I circled around the block and passed two tricked-out Honda Civics idling by the curb. The windows were tinted, but I could see smoke pouring out the driver’s side of one car and the passenger side of the other.
“We were so worried about Donnie’s crew,” Roxy said, “we forgot about the natives. Not the best time to come here, when the sun goes down.”
A flash of indecision washed over me, and I wondered if I was an idiot for being here. I took a deep breath and waited for the sensation to pass. “Look at the bright side.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s dark out. It’s an iffy neighborhood. Skulking around, we’ll fit right in.”
Roxy chuckled. “True that, Diana.” She took a deep breath, fixed her jaw, and set her eyes on the house. “True that.”
CHAPTER 12
W E PARKED ALONG the side of the road and walked up the steps. I hadn’t been in my godfather’s home since my early teens, when my father would come over occasionally to visit and bring me along. My godfather would mix me a non-alcoholic drink with a coconut flavor, and I’d sit in his parlor drinking it, thinking I’d died and gone to heaven.
There were two front doors, one for each of the attached houses. I waited beside Roxy on the stoop as she fished a key from her bag. There were no lights on in either house. Roxy gave me a penlight and asked me to shine it in her purse.
“Who are the tenants next door?” I said.
“There are none. He was using it as storage for the furniture he bought up.”
“You’re kidding me. Since when?”
“About six months ago.”
That surprised me because my godfather had relied on the rental income to help pay his
“Yeah. For now.”
“And by the way . . . After tonight, I don’t want you involved. I don’t want you in harm’s way.”
I needed Roxy tonight to get access to my godfather’s house. As his niece, she had been his emergency contact and had a copy of the front door key.
“Yeah, yeah. Poor Diana. Doesn’t want to be beholden to no one. Always the loner. Didn’t have any friends growing up. Doesn’t have any friends now. Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. Spare me your martyr complex. I brought you potato pancakes, you know.”
She lifted the paper from the plate. I caught another whiff of fried potatoes and onions. Under less urgent circumstances, it would have dissolved my morning willpower.
“Smells like heaven. You didn’t tell me you were moonlighting at the Uke National Home.”
“Money’s getting tight. Our savings are tied up in a condo complex and my husband the real estate mogul can’t move the units. He built them high-end in a middle-class neighborhood in New Britain, genius that he is. But that’s not what irks me. One day he tells me to stop spending, and the next day he comes home with four hundred dollars worth of parts for his vintage Mustang.”
“Ouch.”
“You make your own money. You don’t have to depend on a man. Don’t ever give that up.”
I thanked God it was dark in the car so Roxy couldn’t see me blushing. This was a perfect moment for me to tell her I’d been fired six months ago during the latest round of job eliminations and that I was unemployed, but I nodded instead. I told myself I didn’t want to distract her from the topic at hand but in truth I was too embarrassed to be honest with her. Roxy looked up to me because I had a career. Other than my job, I had nothing else. I knew it, and she knew it, too. I couldn’t stand the thought of her thinking I was a failure.
We enjoyed some silence until we got to East Hartford. My godfather’s house was an old multifamily home off Burnside Avenue. When he’d bought it in the seventies, it was probably a purely residential neighborhood. Now it was a mishmash of body shops, ethnic restaurants, and housing projects. I circled around the block and passed two tricked-out Honda Civics idling by the curb. The windows were tinted, but I could see smoke pouring out the driver’s side of one car and the passenger side of the other.
“We were so worried about Donnie’s crew,” Roxy said, “we forgot about the natives. Not the best time to come here, when the sun goes down.”
A flash of indecision washed over me, and I wondered if I was an idiot for being here. I took a deep breath and waited for the sensation to pass. “Look at the bright side.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s dark out. It’s an iffy neighborhood. Skulking around, we’ll fit right in.”
Roxy chuckled. “True that, Diana.” She took a deep breath, fixed her jaw, and set her eyes on the house. “True that.”
CHAPTER 12
W E PARKED ALONG the side of the road and walked up the steps. I hadn’t been in my godfather’s home since my early teens, when my father would come over occasionally to visit and bring me along. My godfather would mix me a non-alcoholic drink with a coconut flavor, and I’d sit in his parlor drinking it, thinking I’d died and gone to heaven.
There were two front doors, one for each of the attached houses. I waited beside Roxy on the stoop as she fished a key from her bag. There were no lights on in either house. Roxy gave me a penlight and asked me to shine it in her purse.
“Who are the tenants next door?” I said.
“There are none. He was using it as storage for the furniture he bought up.”
“You’re kidding me. Since when?”
“About six months ago.”
That surprised me because my godfather had relied on the rental income to help pay his
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