Chapter 10 #2
Gilda nodded. “Oh, yes. My mother, God rest her soul, caught on to him, thank God. He’d lured the little boy across the street over to his house and was talking him into skinny-dipping in his pool.
Mom heard them out there and went marching right over and that was the end of him.
You can’t trust single men,” she finished with a shake of her head.
“Some you can,” said Louise, thinking of Martin. “Not every man is a pervert.”
Gilda shook her head. “A man living alone? It’s not natural. At least for men our age.”
“Unless the man’s a widower,” Louise argued.
“Ha! Those are usually the ones rushing to get married. Heaven knows I’ve had a couple propose to me. After a certain point in life, they either want a nurse or a purse. I already get paid to be a nurse and I’m not going to be anyone’s purse.”
“Well, my neighbor Martin is the nicest man you’d ever want to meet,” Louise said.
Gilda looked speculatively at her. “Oh?”
“There’s nothing between us,” Louise hurried to say. “We’re just good friends.”
Gilda gave a knowing nod. “That’s how it starts.”
The doorbell rang. “Company. You are popular,” Gilda said.
“It’s probably Martin, checking on me,” Louise said as Gilda went to answer the door.
Sure enough, like an actor who’d been waiting in the wings for his cue, Martin entered the room.
“I came by to see how you’re feeling,” he said to Louise. He held up a box of doughnuts. “Thought you might like a treat.”
“Thank you. I’d love a treat,” Louise said, and made the introductions. “Would you like some iced tea?” she offered after she’d finished, then felt foolish. She wouldn’t be fetching the tea. She was turning Gilda into a servant. “Oh, Gilda, sorry to ask you.”
“No problem,” Gilda said, and disappeared, Darling following her, probably hoping for a dog treat.
While she was gone, Martin set the box of doughnuts on the coffee table. “How’s your leg today?”
“It’s still attached,” Louise said. “I guess that’s something to be thankful for.”
Gilda returned with two glasses and then left. And didn’t return.
Louise couldn’t have her newfound friend feeling left out. “Gilda, come join us,” she called.
“I got things to do out here,” Gilda called back from the kitchen.
No, she didn’t. The only thing she had to do was help Louise, and Louise didn’t need help at the moment.
“Maybe she wants to give us some privacy,” Martin suggested.
“We don’t need privacy,” Louise said. “Will you go bring her back?”
Martin didn’t frown at her request, but he didn’t smile, either. And when he said, “Okay,” he sounded resigned. It was a little out of character for him, especially when he’d been more than happy to settle in and enjoy the fun the night before.
A moment later he was back with Gilda in tow.
“Now, let’s sample those doughnuts,” said Louise.
And so the three of them sat together eating doughnuts, drinking iced tea, and visiting. Actually, it was mostly Louise and Gilda visiting with Martin nodding agreement when called for. He wound up staying for lunch.
As they ate, the subject of Louise’s book came up. “Have you started it yet?” Martin asked.
“I’m still mulling over ideas,” Louise said. “But so far nothing comes to mind.”
“Base it on something in real life, like the freezer husband,” Gilda advised.
“Freezer husband?” Martin repeated, his eyebrows flying up.
“The man in Los Angeles who killed his wife, then cut her up and stuck her in the freezer,” Louise clarified. “The one I told you about the other night. Remember?”
“Yes, and I can see why I forgot it,” he said.
“You could write about something like that,” Gilda said.
“You know, the man who looked so nice, who nobody suspected. I love characters like that. I read a Dean Koontz book years ago. Oh, my gosh! It started with this happy couple in the woods hiking. They found an old ranger tower and climbed up it. One minute they’re talking about how high up it is and the next—boom! —he pushes her off.”
Martin frowned. “That sounds preposterous.”
“This from the man who loves Jack Reacher,” Louise teased.
“You never know about people,” Gilda said. “Pressure builds and builds and then, what seems like out of the blue, they snap. But it’s never really out of the blue. Write about someone like that.”
“A man on a cruise,” Louise said thoughtfully. “He’s there with his wife and he suddenly snaps.”
“What about the woman? Maybe she snaps,” Martin suggested.
“Not as believable. Men are much more violent,” said Gilda. “Everyone knows that.” Martin didn’t look convinced, so she continued, “All the best serial killers are men.”
Martin scratched his chin. “Well.”
“You all have too much testosterone,” Gilda informed him.
“I don’t,” Martin insisted, then looked like he regretted saying that.
Louise giggled. “We know what you mean. I’m not sure I want to write something really grisly.”
“So don’t have him cut her up,” said Gilda.
“Inspiration will come,” Martin assured Louise.
Who knew? Maybe from the goings-on next door.
By the time they’d finished brainstorming, Louise was pooped and ready to spread out on her bed, so Martin took his leave and leashed up Darling for a walk.
“Let me know if you need anything,” he said to Louise before going out the door.
“Just company, and thank you for giving me yours,” she said, which made him smile.
“That man is crazy for you,” Gilda told her after he and Darling had left.
“Really, we’re only good friends.”
“One of you is. One of you is hoping for more. I think he’d have been perfectly happy if I’d stayed in the kitchen all day and he’d had you to himself.”
“No, Martin’s not like that. Anyway, I don’t think of him that way. He’s so . . . mild-mannered.”
“So was Clark Kent until he turned into Superman,” said Gilda, which made Louise laugh.
Martin was not the Superman type. She thought again of the sexy Texan she was missing hanging out with on that cruise. What possible silver lining was there to breaking her leg and having to leave the ship? She certainly couldn’t think of any.
Oh, well. It was what it was.
Gilda helped Louise settle on her bed to relax. “Want me to pull the curtains?” she offered.
“No, I like the light coming in,” said Louise. She also rather liked keeping an eye on the new neighbor’s house. It paid to be vigilant. She’d learned that thanks to past inhabitants.
At the moment, everything looked normal. The sun was shining, the grass was mowed. The pool in the backyard was probably sparkling in the sunlight.
Gilda’s words were glued into her mind. You never know about people. Pressure builds and builds and then, what seems like out of the blue, they snap.
What kind of pressure was building in the house of Alec James? What was going on between him and the redhead?
Louise picked up the book Gilda had loaned her from her nightstand, ready to read. The book was fiction. Next door was real life. It would be silly to mix the two. She needed to ignore her neighbors. She opened the book.
Then put it down as she heard a car door shut. She could see that the red PT Cruiser was back, and the young woman was walking up the front walk, carrying several shopping bags from different department stores in the mall over in West Covina. She certainly didn’t appear to be suffering.
And she was still in one piece. So, nothing to see here, folks. Time to read and forget about the neighbors.
You never know about people.
Louise opened her book again. For the moment, all was well next door, but it couldn’t hurt to keep an eye on things.