Read Online Weakest Lynx by Fiona Quinn - Free Book Online Page B

six, seven, maybe eight months over here. I’ve got to find the dupes, then things need to be ordered in, permits need filing, inspectors need to show up.” He nodded at me. “You have a plan in your head about how long it’s gonna take you?”
    I scrunched my face like I was eating a lemon. “I have a plan, but in my head everything is much easier and much cleaner.”
    “I hear you.” He clunked his empty mug onto the counter.
    I picked it up and went to rinse it in the sink. “At any rate, with the outside cleaned up, if the social workers drive by, they’ll see progress,” I said.
    I grabbed my jacket and headed across the street. Beetle and Bella sprawled beside me on Manny’s porch on guard. I cast vigilant glances up and down the road. Boomer had focused one of the cameras on Manny’s house. Once inside, Stalker could only get to me in one direction, unless he teleported through garbage heaps.
    For the first time, I pulled open the front door then promptly regurgitated. Oh, dear God. The stench brought my elbow protectively over my nose, and I reflexively coughed to rid my lungs of the foul air. I stood there incredulous, wondering how anyone even got in. The stacks made columns from floor to ceiling of boxes and plastic bags jammed one on top of the other. Everywhere. As Manny crossed back over the road from my house, sadness for his grandparents, and now for him, overwhelmed me.
    “Manny.” I flung my arms up in exasperation. “How?”
    He offered up an indifferent shrug. “This is the way Nana and Pops’s house has always been. I guess someone who’s never been in before would find this pretty awful.”
    I stood, wide-eyed, not sure how to respond.
    “Hey,” Manny said. “I’m gonna keep tabs on the crew over at your place today, while I build a new fence in my backyard. I’ve got a guy coming over to give me a hand. Have you met Justin?” Manny asked.
    “Whom?”
    “He lives next door. Your across-the-street neighbor.” Manny pointed at the guy with a tight-hipped gait sauntering up the sidewalk with a big grin on his face. He stood about five eleven, with a lean, muscled body, comfortably clad in ripped jeans.
    “Hey, I’m Lexi.” I put my hand in his for a shake and registered callouses, abrasions across his knuckles, grease permanently stained at the cuticle. Mechanic, maybe?
    Justin made a sweeping gesture to take in the block. “It’s amazing how much things have improved with the shit cleaned up out of Manny’s yard,” he said. “On behalf of the neighborhood, thank you.”  
    I was offering up a wan smile, when I caught sight of Dave coming down his steps. Dave raised his hand in a salute.
    “Hey,” he called over. “I got your message about the list you wanted to give me. Can I swing by this evening? I’m running late for a meeting.”
    “Fine,” I yelled back. “But I have two things for you now.” I raised my hand showing two fingers to punctuate my sentence.
    “Two?” Dave’s stance tightened.
    “Last night at the nail salon. It can wait for later.”
    Dave took a step toward me when his cell phone rang. He peered down at the screen, waved, then jumped in his car and roared off.
    Justin glanced past me with a comically exaggerated grimace. “So you start inside today?”
    I blew out a breath, gesturing toward the door. “If you don’t see my house lights on tonight, send in a search party, will you?”
    Justin laughed. “Yeah. Good luck.”
    I pulled the first box out onto the porch, and I pawed through. It was crammed full of food labels. When Manny said his grandparents weren’t right in the head, he wasn’t kidding. “Hey Manny,” I said without looking up. “Could you get a poker game together with a kitchen person?” I walked to the rail, pitched the trash in the bin, then stood in front of him, swiping dirt off my hands and onto my jeans. “My fridge doesn’t cool, and my oven only works on broil.”
    “I’ll see what can be arranged,”