Chapter 4 #2
“You’re a good boy, Parker. It’d be a shame if you get evicted.” He shook his head. “I don’t like Jeffrey much. His mother was a good landlord, but he’s too greedy.”
“You need help back to your apartment?” I asked, offering my elbow.
Malcolm waved me off, but I still ambled beside him as he made his way back to his apartment. With the door ajar, I got a peek inside as he stepped back in. That place was definitely larger than it should have been.
“Glad I came out when I did,” he said. “You know, he pulled the same trick on a nice girl running a bakery out of her apartment. Delivered cupcakes, I think. Always had a few extra cookies for the kids in the building. He said her paperwork got coffee spilled on it, and when he presented her a new contract, it said she couldn’t run a business out of her apartment. ”
He tutted again, hand tightening on his cane. “You know, I just don’t like people who break contracts.”
My head hurt for a minute, and I felt like I was facing something dark and massive, a storm above me. Shaking my head, the hallway spun slightly before righting itself. My blood sugar was plummeting from not having eaten since lunch.
With an unsteady step backwards, I waved my hand. “Thanks, Malcolm.”
“Oh, before I forget, some cop came by your place before Jeffrey showed up this afternoon,” Malcolm said.
“A cop?” I asked, frowning. My mind flipped to the only cop who might be looking for me. “What did he look like? Handsome, but with an air like he follows every regulation in the manual? The type of guy who doesn’t jaywalk even when there’s no one around?”
Regarding me, Malcolm said, “I’d say a little taller than you, so just over six feet. Nice suit. A fine young blood. Asked me if I needed any help getting up the stairs.”
So definitely Detective Nicholas King, then.
“Did he say what he wanted?” I frowned, trying to figure out what SAPD’s finest would want with me.
“No.” Malcolm shook his head. “He did say he’d try again later.”
“Okay. Thanks again,” I said.
He watched as I made my way back to my door, shutting his only when I slotted my key into the lock. Stepping inside, I released a long sigh. Had it only been a single day?
I tossed the open envelope onto my desk, the addition threatening an avalanche of other papers.
Hanging my camera bag from a coatrack near the door, I took quick steps towards the kitchen and pulled a glass out of the drying rack, filling it from the sink.
I drank it down in one long swallow and then filled it again, taking a little more time with the second glass.
The rent would have to be dealt with, and it burned my blood to remember why I was so broke.
Derek McCallum might have thought he got away, but he and I had a contract and he would pay and then pay some more for breaking faith.
I didn’t need to check my bank balance to know after the payment I had to make to Laurel in a few days, I’d only have five hundred left.
Looking around, I was irritated all over again at the outrageous rates Jeffrey could charge for such a crappy place.
My apartment was one room, the living and dining room taking up the same rectangular space.
A narrow kitchen was separated from the two by a tiled island with a sink and dishwasher in it.
The bedroom was a small square with a bathroom and a closet.
I’d set up my desk in the middle of the living room and put a couple of folding chairs out for clients. That squeezed my couch and tv to the side, but the type of clients who came to me didn’t mind the awkward Feng Shui.
Marco would have hated it.
I stripped off my shirt and pants, picking them off the kitchen tile and tossing them towards the bedroom as I enjoyed the chill for a moment before following my clothes into the bedroom to take a shower.
Kicking the clothes towards the overflowing laundry hamper, I headed into the bathroom and turned on the shower, letting it heat before stepping in.
The spray was a sharp relief and I could feel individual muscles relaxing as I soaped up.
My vision was getting spotty again, so I made the shower quick.
Wrapping a towel around my waist while I was still dripping wet, I headed to the kitchen.
At the freezer, I selected a tray of macaroni and cheese from the stacks of blue and orange boxes, and tossed it in the microwave.
I squinted at the microwave clock, shaking my head. It was already close to nine thirty.
While the food heated, I pulled on some sweatpants and a cotton t-shirt from my high school gym class that was more comfortable than fashionable. The logo was a leaping tiger, and I made a face at how much of it had peeled off.
I’d been in high school when Marco had first taken me to his office.
It was a nice storefront about as far from the Avenue as you could get.
Not in one of the ritzy neighborhoods, but a nice working-class area for a nice working-class guy like Marco.
It had been part of the deal when I went to live with him and Shannon.
I got to do the fun PI stuff with Marco if I kept up with my magic lessons with Shannon.
After the last foster home where they would lock me in a closet any time my magic got out of control, it had seemed too good to be true.
The microwave beeped telling me my two-thousand five-hundred calorie dinner was done when someone knocked on the door. Three polite taps. I sighed up at the ceiling and opened the door.