Bloodfever
Page 32

I slid the key into the door, jiggled the handle trying to turn itthe lock was stickypushed open the door, and gaped at the girl standing inside, glaring at me and wielding a baseball bat.
Hand it over, she demanded, holding out a hand and nodding at the key. I heard you out there and I already called the police. Howd you get a key to my place?
I pocketed my key. Who are you?
I live here. Who are you?
You dont live here. My sister lives here. At least she does until midnight today.
No way. I signed a lease three days ago and paid up front. You have a problem with that, talk to the landlord.
Did you really call the police?
She assessed me coolly. No. But I will if I have to.
That was a relief. I hadnt seen Inspector Jayne yet today and was savoring the respite. All I needed was for him to show up and arrest me for breaking and entering, or some other trumped-up charge. I glanced past her. Wheres my sisters stuff? I demanded. All my carefully packed boxes were gone. There was no fingerprint dust on the floor, no broken glass scattered about, no sliced and diced furniture, no shredded drapes. All of it was gone. The apartment was spotless and had been tastefully redecorated.
How should I know? The place was empty when I moved in.
Whos the landlord? I was stunned. Id been shut out. While Id vacillated in indecision about whether or not to destroy the walls and floors in a thorough but damagingly expensive search for her journal, then been sidetracked by other things, Id lost all my sisters personal possessions!
Someone was living in her apartment. It wasnt fairI had one more day!
I would have continued to argue until the sun had gone down, the clock struck twelve, and the final bell finished chiming if the new tenant had said anything other than what she said next.
The guy downstairs at the bar handles things for him, but its probably the owner youll need to talk to.
And whos that?
She shrugged. Ive never met him. Some guy named Barrons.
I felt like a rat in a maze and everyone else was human, wearing lab coats and standing outside my box, watching me run blindly up and down dead-end corridors, and laughing.
I left the new tenant without another word. I stepped outside, into the alley behind the pub, backed myself into an alcoved, bricked-up door to avoid the drizzle, and rang up Barrons on the cell phone hed left outside my door last night with three numbers programmed in.
One was JB. That was the one I used now. The other two were mystifying: IYCGM and IYD.
He sounded angry when he answered. What? he snarled. I could hear the sound of things crashing, glass breaking.
Tell meabout my sister, I barked back.
Shes dead? he said sarcastically. There was another crash.
Wheres her stuff?
Upstairs in the room next to yours. Whats this about, Ms. Lane, and cant it wait? Im a bit busy right now.
Upstairs? I exclaimed. You admit you have it?
Why wouldnt I? I was her landlord and you didnt get the place cleaned out in time.
I was on time. I had through today!
You were beat up and busy and I took care of it for you. A thunderous crash punctuated his words. Youre welcome.
You were my sisters landlord and you never bothered to tell me? You said you didnt know her! I shouted to make myself heard above the din coming out of the earpiece. Okay, maybe I shouted because I was furious. Hed lied to me. Baldly and blatantly. What else was he lying to me about? A clap of thunder above me made me even madder. One day I was going to escape Jericho Barrons and this rain. One day I was going to find myself a sunny beach, plant my petunia on it, and sprout roots. Besides, I snapped, your name wasnt on the letter we got about the damages to the apartment!
The man who handles my rentals sent the letter. And I didnt know your sister. I didnt know I was her landlord until my solicitor called a few days ago to tell me there was a problem with one of my properties. There was a soft thud and Barrons grunted. After a moment he said, Hed been calling your house in Ashford and no one was answering. He didnt want to be responsible for setting a tenants property to the curb. I heard the name, did the math, took care of it. There was a soft oomph, and it sounded like Barrons phone went clattering across the floor.
I was curiously deflated. Id had one of those aha moments upstairs: Id been immediately convinced he was hiding some personal connection between him and my sister, that Id found evidence of it, it was proof of his villainy, and now things would fall miraculously into place and finally begin making sense, but his reply was perfectly logical. Two of my patrons at The Brickyard owned multiple properties and never got personally involved in the running of them unless there was a problem. They didnt see any of the paperwork unless something had to go to court, and they never had any clue who was renting one of their apartments.
You dont think its terribly coincidental? I demanded, when I heard him on the other end of the line again. He was breathing heavily, as if running, or fighting, or both. I tried to imagine who or what Barrons could be fighting that was giving him a run for the money and decided I didnt want to know.