Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
“The convertible top has been dented,” Charley whispered. “Was it like that last night?”
“It could have been. It was dark when we were here, so we could have missed it. Man, somebody’s got a bad temper.” Sully brought the truck to a stop alongside her car. “We should call the cops.”
Charley put her doubt into words. “What good would it do?”
“You’ll need to make a report for insurance purposes,” he said. “Vaughn obviously has a bad temper. Maybe the police can get fingerprints and figure out if he did this.”
“I don’t know.” Charley unbuckled her seat belt and said, “I respect and support all police, but I’ve dealt with them a lot lately.
They’re probably tired of me.” She opened her door and got out of the truck.
Walking around her beloved Mini Cooper, she fought back anger and tears as she mumbled, “Darn it.”
“Four tires and a repaired convertible top and you’ll be back in business,” Sully said, walking toward her.
“Yes,” Charley agreed and pasted a smile on her face.
“Does your duplex have a garage?”
“No, just a two-car parking pad,” she said, shaking her head as Sully frowned.
“Here comes the tow truck.”
The tow truck driver was adept at his job and soon had her car loaded up. After asking the man to take it to a body shop Sully had recommended, the tow truck driver hauled her car onto the highway and disappeared down the road.
“So, how about the breakfast, brunch, or lunch I promised you?” she asked.
“I’ll take all three.”
“Okay,” she said with a laugh. Sully opened the truck door for her, and she climbed into her seat. “It’s almost lunchtime, what sounds good?”
“Mexican?”
“Perfect. I love Mexican food.”
Sliding in behind the wheel, Sully started the engine.
“I know a great little place in Old Colorado City,” he said, referring to her neighborhood.
Built along Colorado Avenue, the nineteenth-century red brick buildings housed a variety of art galleries, jewelry stores, quaint shops, and cozy cafés. “It’s called the Canyon Cantina.”
“Yes, the Canyon Cantina is one of my favorite places to eat,” Charley told him and was rewarded with a grin on his handsome face. “My place is walking distance from the Canyon Cantina. Since parking can be tough to find, if you’d like to go to my apartment we can park there and walk.”
“Sounds good to me,” Sully said.
They chatted as Sully drove to Colorado Springs and eventually headed across town into the Old Colorado Springs neighborhood.
There, Charley directed him to her duplex.
Perched on the backside of a hill, the two apartments were set up above a corner shop that opened onto a wide sidewalk of Colorado Avenue.
Sully turned left onto a side street, drove up the hill, and parked his truck on one-half of a double-sized parking pad.
As Charley unplugged her cell phone, she asked, “Would you mind if we make a quick stop inside my apartment so I can brush my teeth?”
“Let’s go.”
Hopping out of her side of his truck, before he could open the door for her, Charley led the way down the short cobblestone path to her one-bedroom apartment on the left side of the duplex.
She typically kept her place in good shape, so she wasn’t concerned about inviting Sully into her home.
But today, as soon as she neared the door, she realized it was slightly ajar.
The doorknob was askew and the lock was scratched.
Pushing the door open, she stepped into the living room and Sully followed her.
“Dear Lord,” Charley whispered.
Both of her white orchids had been swept off the Formica countertop separating her living room from the kitchen.
The pots had broken, scattering dirt and petals across the hardwood floor of the living room.
Sofa pillows had been tossed and a wingback chair had been turned on its side.
To the right of the living room, in the breakfast nook area, her peace lily plant had been pulled out of its pot by the roots and dumped onto the kitchen table.
Her sweet little peacock plants lay in broken pieces on the floor and her African violet had been emptied out onto the kitchen windowsill.
Without another word, she walked down a closet-length hallway and turned left into her bedroom.
There, her parlor palm lay on its side in the middle of her queen-size bed.
Her spider plants sat askew in their hanging, macramé baskets in front of the bedroom window.
“Who has it in for you, Charley?” Sully asked, coming up behind her and taking off his sunglasses.
She turned to him, flushed with anger and embarrassment. “I don’t know.”
“Rod Vaughn is a loose cannon, and I could see him damaging your car. Would he do this too?”
“Yes. Maybe.” Moving past Sully, Charley flipped on the bathroom light. Her shower curtains had been slashed into ribbons. “I don’t know what to think.”
“You have to call the cops.”
“No,” she said, leading the way back down the hall and into the living room.
Sully caught her arm and turned her to him. “Yes, you’re in danger, Charley.”
“I’ll be okay.”
“How?” he asked, his hands on his hips. “When you’re raped, dead, or both?”
“Sully!”
“I’m serious, Charley. My dad would say to call the cops right now.
” Standing in the living room, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and made the 9-1-1 call.
“What’s your address?” he asked and when she gave it to him, he relayed it to the dispatcher.
Hanging up, he told her, “They’ll be here shortly. ”
“Okay,” she said and nodded.
“They don’t want us to touch anything, so let’s go wait for them in my truck. Come on.” Closing her front door, they first checked the unoccupied apartment next door. It was undamaged. In the truck, Sully rolled the windows down and they waited for the police to arrive.
“This all started right after I met Rod Vaughn,” Charley admitted without prompting while staring at the duplex.
“What started? Vaughn pressuring you?”
“Yes. I met Rod at work when he came in to buy flowers. He said he needed to make up with his girlfriend, Kay.”
“You work as a florist?”
“Yes, at Fleming Flowers, the flower and plant shop directly underneath this duplex. I’m a nature lover and have a degree in horticulture.”
“That makes sense,” he said, having seen the variety of plants in her apartment. “No wonder you knew so much about columbines.”
“My mother owned and worked in the flower shop all my life.” Charley felt her eyes grow wide with dawning. “I’ll bet the shop looks worse than my apartment.”
“Might as well go take a look,” Sully said.
They left the truck where it was parked.
Walking down the hill and around the side of the building, they passed a plate-glass window boasting Fleming’s Flowers, before reaching the all-glass front door.
Since it was Sunday, the shop was closed, with a sign stating such on the door.
Like her duplex door, the knob and lock were damaged.
Charley knew before she looked, that didn’t bode well for her shop.
Indeed, as she pushed open the door, she found the cute little place in shambles.
Plants and flowers lay in broken disarray from one end of the shop to the other.
“No transportation and no business all within twenty-four hours,” Charley said. “Great.”
“Do you scare easily?” Sully asked.
“I never thought so. Why?”
“I think somebody is trying to scare you or is really angry with you.”
“Rod Vaughn is definitely angry with me, but if he thinks he can scare me into being with him, he’s dead wrong.”
Two police cars pulled to a stop in front of the flower shop.
Charley and Sully met the officers on the sidewalk and ushered them inside.
After they looked around the shop, Charley told them, with input from Sully, about the vandalism to her car.
Then she left one of the officers with Sully and escorted the second one up to her apartment.
The officers took reports on the apartment, shop, and car, promising to get back to her.
“I’m starving,” Sully said as Charley locked the door to the shop. “How about lunch?”
“Yes,” she replied. In addition to the shop, she had locked the door to her apartment, for whatever good it would do.
“Do you own this property or just rent it?”
“We…I own it. Why?”
“Because of the location, it’s a valuable piece of real estate. Would your mother have promised this property to someone besides you?”
“No, we only had each other. But even if she did, who would want to tear things up?”
“I don’t know. Could someone be mad at her but taking it out on you?”
“I don’t think so. Like I said, she kept to herself.”
Since the shop was on the corner of the block, they only had to walk a few steps to the stoplight.
It turned red and they crossed the street.
A little farther up Colorado Avenue put them at the Cantina Café.
Taken by the hostess to a booth, they slid into seats on opposite sides of the table from each other.
Given water with lemon along with chips, salsa, and menus, Charley looked up and sighed.
“As if things couldn’t get any worse,” she said under her breath.
“What now?” Sully asked and then saw Vaughn entering the restaurant.
“Rod lives in Manitou Springs,” Charley said regarding the small town three miles away that lay at the foot of Pikes Peak. “Kay lives here in the Old Colorado City neighborhood.”