Chapter 52 Katie Morrow
Katie Morrow
“I was one of the contractors on the Morrows’ basement-remodel job.
We had to redo the theater lighting three times, thanks to Mark’s wife.
Katie drove us nuts with change orders. But she was sweet about it, and paid us on time.
And she invited me and my wife over for dinner.
We went, mainly because I was dying to hear some stories from Mark. Did you know he reps Tyford Henry?”
Willow hadn’t left her room all day. Katie paused outside her door and listened closely, trying to hear what she was doing in there. She couldn’t still be asleep, could she?
Maybe so. Katie’s sister had been an alcoholic in college, and she used to sleep till noon each day.
It was . . . one thirty, so maybe so. She considered knocking on the door, but it was ridiculous to check up on Willow.
She was a grown woman. If she wanted to spend the entire day holed up in the guest room, then she could.
If anything, that made Katie’s life easier.
She returned to the main living room and sat on the couch, turning the television to a home-renovation show.
It was a competition episode, where one team tried to outdo a different team, and Katie watched it for fifteen minutes before realizing that she had no idea what was going on in the show and didn’t care.
No one slept until two o’clock, not unless they were recovering from a major surgery.
Willow had come home last night before midnight.
That was early, by party-girl standards.
And she had made it home, so she couldn’t have been too inebriated.
Katie had gone over every inch of the Maserati and hadn’t found a scratch.
Which was great, except that Katie had half hoped for a dent, something on Mark’s precious baby, something that would give her ammunition to support the eviction of Mark’s ex-wife, pronto.
She turned off the television and stood up, doing a slow spin in the room and looking for something to clean.
The room was, as always, in perfect order.
She could steam clean the baseboards or get the ladder out and dust the crown molding rails near the ceiling, but she had done that in the last month.
She decided to check the expiration dates on the pantry items, and headed in that direction, stopping short when she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. Stepping backward, she spotted Willow, standing stick straight in the middle of the hall, staring at the basement door.
“Oh. Hello. I didn’t know that you were up.” And better yet, she was already dressed, in a baggy T-shirt and cut-off shorts. Maybe she was going somewhere. Maybe she was all packed up and leaving! Katie’s optimism cheered at the thought.
“It’s two in the afternoon,” Willow said dryly, as if it were obvious that she was up, and what kind of a person was Katie to sleep that late?
“Well, yes. I know. I just wasn’t sure how late you were out last night. Can I get you anything to eat, or do you need help with something . . . ?” She glanced from Willow to the basement door. “Did you want to go watch something on TV? I can show you the theater setup.”
“Theater?” Willow tilted her head. “Is it in the basement?”
“Oh, yeah. We put it in a year or so ago. Come on, I’ll show it to you.” She opened the door and flipped the light switch. “It’s a bit much, but—” Jogging down the steps, she paused and looked over her shoulder.
Willow hadn’t moved, and if Katie didn’t know better, she’d say that the look on her face was one of fear.
“You coming?” she asked. “We fixed the broken step, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Willow took one slow step forward, then another, until she was on the landing. She bent forward and looked down the stairs, then gave a tentative smile. “I’m sorry. I’m . . . claustrophobic. The basement always freaked me out.”
“Well, yeah, it was like a tomb before.” Katie kept moving down the stairwell. “But you’ll love it now. Come on and see. It’s my favorite part of the house.”
Mainly because this was the one area that Willow hadn’t had a hand in. While her mark had been on the other rooms in the house, this level had been an empty shell. And Katie had to say, she’d done a damn good job with it.
She stepped into the basement lounge. “This is Mark’s area, which, I admit, is a bit much.
” Spreading her arms, she gestured to the luxurious space, which Mark used as a man cave.
It had a pool table, a full bar, a poker table, and a gaming setup with a theater-size screen and giant U-shaped couch.
Mark had told the designer to give it a cigar bar feel, and they had delivered, with dark wood walls, soft leather furnishings, and gold accents.
Willow’s gaze darted around the room. “What happened to the rest of the space?”
Not the reaction Katie was hoping for, but she let it slide.
“Well, I have holiday storage there, and the bigger house pantry next to that.” She pointed to the doors as she went.
“And on this side, the theater and an apartment, which isn’t being used right now but was designed for a nanny or maybe Mark’s mother. ”
“That’s a mistake,” Willow murmured and reached for the doorknob of the house pantry. Twisting it slowly, she eased open the door, then swung it fully open. “Holy shit,” she breathed.
It was quite impressive. Katie’s pride swelled at the room, which had eight rows of shelving organized with clear bins, all color coded and labeled.
There was everything from extra light bulbs to sunscreen to six months of food backup, all in the climate-controlled room that contained its own inventory system and database.
“Did you see what was here before?” Willow asked, her hand still on the knob, her body blocking Katie’s entrance to the room.
“It was just a big open basement when I moved in. I had plans drawn up and had the contractors construct the rooms.”
“So he got rid of everything.”
Katie shrugged. “The demo guys cleared some stuff out. What did you guys use it for when you lived here? More storage, like the junk room off the garage?”
“It was more of Mark’s area,” Willow said. “He spent a lot of time down here.”
“Yeah, I know there was some stuff left from the original owner. He had big dogs, right? Monica next door told me they threw out a large cage.”
Willow stepped back and closed the pantry door. “I’m going to go upstairs and lie down.”
“Did you want to see the theater? It’s got really comfortable couches, if you want to take a nap.”
“No.” Willow headed for the stairs, then stopped, backpedaling a few paces until she was beside the bar. Reaching over the counter, she grabbed a bottle of liquor. Hugging it against her chest, she headed up the stairs.
Definitely an alcoholic. And rude, not even looking into the theater room. Katie reached out and tapped the light’s control panel, and the floor went dark.