Chapter 3 #2
I stopped in front of a series of framed photographs atop an oak table.
I picked up the first picture of Darlene and her sister, presumably.
Probably the deceased mother of the greedy children.
They shared similar features. I wondered whether the niece or nephew had inherited their kind eyes or tiny earlobes.
Some people expressed outrage when family members behaved horribly following the death of a relation.
As someone who’d basically been sold into servitude by her own mother, I was rarely shocked or appalled.
Infighting over an antique desk was nothing compared to the horror of knowing I was nothing more than a bargaining chip in my mother’s bid to elevate her status and assuage her inferiority complex.
I returned the picture to the table. There was no one left on earth who shared my features.
My mother had no family to speak of. My cousins on my father’s side favored the unrelated side of the family.
Although I hadn’t seen them in many years, I occasionally stalked them on social media, when the curiosity bug bit me.
But there was no trace of me or my father in any of the faces I saw.
I was truly one of a kind.
Some people longed to be unique, to stand out, to be “special.” My mother had been such a person, yet the only way she could achieve that status was via an extension of her.
Me.
I continued deeper into the condo, examining the living room, kitchen, and bedroom. No sign of a struggle or forced entry. No sign of anything untoward at all.
It was possible that Darlene didn’t keep her door locked. Many Neighbors didn’t. Darlene was a trusting homebody, too, which made it even more likely her door had been unlocked.
I lay on her bed and observed the room from what would’ve been her vantage point.
Shadows danced upon the wall, but none that resembled a man.
A chill tickled my spine. I rolled toward the far wall and noticed the window.
To the lesser-trained eye, it appeared closed, but I saw an almost imperceptible slit between the ledge and the window.
I shot to my feet and crossed the room to investigate.
The outside air was definitely seeping in through that small gap.
I opened the window and stuck my head outside.
A second-floor condo wasn’t very high off the ground, but too high to climb without a ladder.
Had someone opened the window, climbed in, then climbed out again? But how would they have closed the window from the outside at the second-floor level? It didn’t make sense, unless we were, in fact, looking for an actual shadow.
Groaning, I slapped a hand over my eyes. Please don’t tell me we were looking for an actual killer shadow.
Why me?
Darlene probably had the same thought as she observed her murderer. At least I was alive and only mildly inconvenienced.
Darlene didn’t have a security record. Some Neighbors had files with us for minor transgressions like parking tickets or noise violations.
Darlene hadn’t so much as filed a complaint about another Neighbor.
Quiet, law-abiding. Couldn’t even say “wrong place at the wrong time” because the woman was in bed in her own home.
The world could be a screwed-up place sometimes.
I’d have to obtain Darlene’s file from the HOA without raising any alarms. I didn’t require permission for access, but the activity would get flagged and possibly questioned.
Justine was like a dragon with gold bullion when she sensed information being withheld.
She would’ve made a formidable litigator if she’d chosen the legal field as her path.
Instead, she’d chosen to torment Neighbors with her stringent rules and threats to expel them from the island.
Everybody on Evermore either wanted to be here or had no other choice. I fell into both categories.
I left the condo and rode to my office to review Darlene’s HOA file online. If someone asked, I’d tell them Darlene’s family had requested the file and that I’d wanted to read it first to get ahead of anything salacious. That sounded plausible.
The office was quiet and lonely without Judd. I still wasn’t accustomed to the silence. Occasionally, Miguel Torres popped in from another section of the building to say hello, but for the most part, I was on my own.
Nothing new there. I’d spent the majority of my life working solo.
I downed a glass of water, giving the empty coffee pot a resentful glare in the process.
Judd’s death was having the unintended consequence of keeping me hydrated instead of caffeinated.
I hadn’t yet fully committed to accepting control over the office coffee pot.
That had been Judd’s domain, and I’d liked it that way.
At some point, I’d have to move on, but today was not that day.
After a careful review of Darlene’s HOA file, I was forced to acknowledge there was nothing helpful.
Like her condo walls, the information was plain and sparse.
No enemies. No altercations. No exes with a grudge.
If Darlene was randomly targeted, that meant the situation was even more concerning.
It meant the killer could strike again, anywhere at any time.
In the space of a day, things had somehow managed to go from bad to worse. My phone lit up with a text message. I groaned at the sight of Justine’s name on the screen. Even worse, the message included the two words I dreaded: see me.
And the downward spiral continued.