How Perfect You Are (Carlson College Mysteries Book 1) Page 8

  “Sure thing. Is Drew working tonight? I bet he could help show him the ropes some more.”

  “He was supposed to, but he called in sick,” Amanda replied, checking an email that had popped up. “Shit. I was supposed to make arrangements with the linen company to switch to the higher thread count sheets. I’ve got to call them before they deliver tomorrow.” Her fingers flew across the phone, and just like that she was all business.

  Sitting down in one of the arm chairs in the reception area, I listened idly as Amanda negotiated a swap of linens with our supplier. At twenty-eight, Amanda had been working at the Walker Inn almost as long as I had. She had recently started working full time as an assistant manager. Though she joked that the increased time spent with Susan was likely to drive her to an early grave, Amanda actually seemed to enjoy her new position. She had confided in me that as much as she hated Susan, the extra dose of insanity was worth it as the Walkers had been generous with her salary and put her on the employee insurance plan, which was apparently pretty stellar.

  It made me think about my own future career plans. I loved my English major, and it had seemed like a natural fit for a bookworm like myself who didn’t really know what she wanted to do in life. A lot of my classmates planned to teach English, a path I had considered but honestly wasn’t sure I was cut out for. Others had goals of being a full time writer. I had considered that as well, but I also knew it was unlikely I could make enough to support myself writing full time unless I had an instant bestseller or worked for a blog or newspaper. The first option was a definite longshot, and neither of the last two options appealed to me very much, so I knew I needed some sort of alternative.

  More and more, I was starting to think that when I graduated I might see if I could convince the Walkers to take me on full time as the had done with Amanda. A decent salary, insurance, good coworkers (Susan notwithstanding), and a flexible schedule all seemed very appealing. Carlson was a pretty inexpensive town, so I could probably live fairly comfortably, if frugally, on what I would make working full time.

  Plus, I apparently had a knack for interacting with the general public. I had once overheard Amanda telling June Walker that guests were always extremely complimentary of me and my professional demeanor. I figured I might as well play to my strengths.

  I was startled out of my thoughts by the arrival of Parker. The thought of his Bloody Mary mistake made me giggle, and he gave me a forlorn look.

  “You heard, I guess?” he sounded dejected. He ran a hand through his wavy hair.

  I patted the arm of the chair next to mine. “Sit.”

  Parker did as instructed, and I offered him a scone as well. He took a bite.

  “Orange scones. One of Danny’s specialties. Just don’t let Susan catch you sitting and eating,” I said. At my words, Parker looked around with a frightened expression. “Oh, no, she’s not here right now. Look, don’t worry about the Bloody Mary thing. Yes, we may tease you mercilessly about it for the rest of your tenure here. But it’s all in good fun. I still pick on Amanda for the time she thought that by ‘half and half coffee’ she thought a guest wanted it brewed with half and half instead of water.”

  Parker laughed appreciatively, then shot me a confused look. “Wait, what does it mean?”

  “Half decaf, half regular. For the elderly, insomniac, and weak hearted among us,” I explained, biting my lip. I had gathered that Parker was a little dense, but I was beginning to wonder about his ability to function independently in a workplace like the Walker Inn.

  “Are you talking about me again?” Amanda asked. “Cassie, I changed my mind. You might as well clock in. I’ll convince Susan to give you overtime if I have to, but now I’m swamped. Can you help me verify these reservations? There’s a ton of people on the books for this weekend, and I want to be ready. Parker, take these towels up to room 6. Smile, nod, ask if they need anything else, then get the hell out, got it? Absolutely no discussion of beverage ingredients.”

  And just like that I was so busy my mind didn’t have time to dwell on anything for more than a few moments. The afternoon went by in a blur of phone calls, check ins, and Susan panicking about our supply of linens until suddenly it was four o’clock. My weekday shifts were always short, and I found myself half wishing I could work longer. Susan would likely have a conniption if I got any more overtime, though.

  “I’ve gotta go,” I told Amanda, who was showing Parker how to log in to the reservation system. I felt suddenly exhausted as I remembered I was supposed to meet Amber and file a police report. The nauseous feeling also returned in a rush.

  “Okay. See you Wednesday?” Amanda asked.

  “Yeah, Wednesday,” I agreed, grabbing my bag and heading for the door. Once outside in the parking lot I checked my phone. I had three missed calls from Amber. I returned her call as I climbed into my car, carefully backing out of my spot.

  “Hey,” I said when she finally answered the phone. “What’s up?”

  “Are you on your way home?” Amber demanded. Her voice sounded funny, like she was extremely frustrated but trying hard not to show it.

  “Yeah, I’m in the car right now. I’ll be there in about twenty minutes, barring unforeseen traffic insanity. What’s wrong?”

  “I’ll explain when you get here. Don’t worry, nobody’s hurt, or anything, but you should know the cops are here.”

  “What?” I exclaimed suddenly, stomping on the brakes just in time to avoid bumping into a guest’s awkwardly park car.

  “Look, don’t worry right now. I’ll explain when you get here.”

  “Nuh-uh. You don’t get to drop a bomb like that and then not explain,” I exclaimed, already zooming down the gravel driveway as fast as I could negotiate the potholes. My heart was racing. I tried my best to stay calm and focused by taking a few deep breaths.

  Amber paused, seeming to consider whether or not to make me wait until I was home. Apparently she decided against that, because she began, “I came home from class a little before three. I had already talked to James, and I knew about the latest texts. When I got here, the door was unlocked.”

  “What?” I cried. “I know I locked it. I double checked before I left!”

  “I know. That’s what I told the cops. You never leave the door unlocked. You’re, like, obsessive about checking, even under normal circumstances. Anyway, I came in and saw…” Amber trailed off.

  “Saw what? What did you see?” I demanded, sighing in frustration as I got stuck at a red light.

  “Flowers. Well, petals, anyway. Hundreds and hundreds of flower petals, all over the living room, up the stairs, and...in your room,” Amber admitted.

  “Petals?” I repeated. I wasn’t quite sure what I had been expected- a rabbit in a pot, a corpse, a “Cassie Forever” shrine, perhaps. Not flower petals, though.

  “Yeah. Rose petals, to be exact.”

  “So then you called the police?” I prompted.

  “Yeah. I told them someone broke in and I told them someone had been sending you weird messages and things. Now they want to talk to you about the new messages you got, and the other stuff. I told them you’d be here soon.”

  “Yeah, I’m about ten minutes away now.”

  “Jesus, Cass, what did you do, fly? Slow down, moron. I promise, they’re not going anywhere.”

  13

  Almost two hours later I half sat, half lay on the couch, feeling absolutely exhausted. The police had finally left, as had the locksmith who, by some minor miracle, had been available to come change our locks right away. Perhaps having the police call in the request was extra motivating.

  Amber was refusing to let me help clean up the approximately nine billion rose petals that littered the house. I watched as she attempted to sweep them up. Some made it into the dustpan, but more clung to the bristles of the broom. Willow, perched on the arm of the couch next to me, eyed the broom with a distinct look of distrust.

  “I still can’t believe there’s not anything they ca
n do,” Amber huffed as she swept.

  “I believe it. Your heard Officer Gonzales. Besides dusting for some fingerprints on the door knob and what not, there’s not anything else they could possibly do. No forced entry. Nothing stolen. No threats. To them, this just looks like a secret crush gone a little too far. There’s no reason for them to investigate further. Oh, remember, we need to call Mr. Wilkes and let him know about the new lock,” I said, referring to our landlord.

  “Still. I think you should file a complaint or something. Honestly, when that second officer suggested maybe you were leading someone on, driving him into doing desperate things, I wanted to slap him! As if this is your fault,” Amber said, outraged.

  “That would be assaulting an officer,” I pointed out. “Unlike overzealous secret admiring, it is actually a crime.”

  “Cassie, get serious. I don’t know how you can be so nonchalant about this whole thing. Aren’t you freaked?”

  “I am. I just...it all seems so weird. I mean, nothing exciting or dangerous ever happens in Carlson, let alone to me. I keep swinging between being freaked the hell out and thinking that it’s probably not as bad as I’m making it out to be,” I struggled to explain.

  “Well, I think it’s as bad as you're making it out to be,” Amber retorted. “In fact, I’m wondering if it’s even a good idea for us to stay here tonight. Maybe we should stay with Jenna or Brooklyn.”

  “No way. Even if we split up, you know how small their apartments are. We’d be so cramped. It wouldn’t work for more than a night. Besides, I feel like leaving means we’re letting him win. Letting him drive us out. I don’t want to give in to that,” I said firmly, trying to make myself believe it.

  Amber swept in silence for a moment before speaking. “I guess you have a point. Do you, like, mind if I ask James to stay over, though?”

  I looked up from my hands, where I was systematically picking nail polish off my thumb, a nervous habit of mine.

  “Uh, no. I guess not,” I shrugged. I hadn’t thought about it, but the idea of James staying seemed surprisingly comforting.

  “Good. ‘Cause I kind of figured you’d say that, about not wanting to leave, so I already texted him. He was at his mock trial club meeting, but he was going to leave early and grab some stuff before he came over.”

  “Amber!” I laughed, somewhat surprised. “You are seriously freaked out, aren’t you?”

  Amber fixed me with a serious gaze, her normally cheery face dark. “Yeah, I really am,” she said, her mouth set in a concerned expression.

  By the time James arrived around seven, Amber had managed to clean up all of the rose petals. She refused to throw them away, however, insisting we might need them for evidence later on. While I thought Amber had taken a leaf out of Jenna’s book and spent too much time watching crime procedural shows, I conceded and let her bag them up in a giant Ziploc baggie, which she then stored in a drawer of her desk.

  “Pizza!” James announced as he came in the door, followed closely by the smell of warm, melted cheese.

  “Finally!” Amber leaped off the couch and snatched the boxes out of her brother’s hands.

  “I should have known. You only wanted me here for the food,” James shook his head in mock sadness.

  “Why did you get three pizzas?” I asked. “Are we expecting anyone else?”

  “No, not unless you girls invited Jenna or Brooklyn or something. I just really like pizza,” James said with a shrug.

  “No. We haven’t even told them what happened yet,” I admitted. “Amber thought we both needed some time to...what was it, Amber? Process the events of the day?”

  “Yeah. Miss Calm and Cool here,” Amber jerked her head in my direction as she opened all three pizza boxes on the coffee table “doesn’t seem to have realized how serious this is. I’m still waiting for it to hit her.”

  “I have realized, thank you very much!” I was indignant. “I’ll have you know I almost murdered the cat this afternoon when I came home before work.” I quickly recounted Willow’s attempt at giving me a heart attack and my bravery with the fireplace poker.

  Amber laughed, but James paused thoughtfully.

  “What time was this?” he asked.

  “Before eleven-thirty. I didn’t have to be at work until twelve, and I was early getting there.”

  “And Amber,” James continued, turning to his sister. “What time did you get home?”

  “Two forty-five,” Amber replied promptly.

  “Which means that whoever it is came in and put out the flowers between eleven-thirty and two forty-five,” I supplied, following his line of thought. “Should that mean anything in particular?”

  “Maybe not now,” James answered, helping himself to a slice of pepperoni pizza from the box Amber had opened on the coffee table. “But eventually it might help narrow down a list of suspects. If they have a solid alibi for that time, we can probably- but not definitely- eliminate them. I don’t know how common it is for a stalker to have an accomplice, but I suppose it’s possible.”

  “Suspects, alibi, accomplice,” Amber repeated in a teasing tone. “Listen to you. Are you sure you want to be a lawyer? You’re kind of starting to sound like a cop.”

  “Yes, I’m sure,” James sounded annoyed. “But lawyers have to be able to think logically through possible solutions, just like the police. It’s not all that different. And speaking of police, what did the officers who responded to your call say?”

  “Not much,” I admitted, reaching for a slice of pizza as well. I was starving, and it smelled heavenly. “Basically they took down our statements, going all the way back to the first weird texts and the thing with the pictures on Jenna’s phone. They asked if I suspected anyone, to which I had to say no, obviously. They said they would have an officer do some drive bys for a few days. At best, though, the only thing this person might be guilty of is breaking and entering, or trespassing or something. They did tell us not to leave a hide-a-key for the new lock, since that’s probably how they got in.”

  “I kind of thought as much,” James sighed.

  “They seem to think it’s just some weirdo with a misguided crush,” Amber grumbled.

  “Well, they aren’t necessarily wrong,” I pointed out. “And so far, nothing bad has happened. Just...weird things.”

  “Yeah, the operative words there being so far,” Amber retorted, looking annoyed. “Honestly, Cassie, you are way too trusting. One day someone is going to kidnap you and keep you in a pit to make a coat out of you, and the entire time you’ll just be saying to yourself, ‘Oh, this is a nice pit! It isn’t so bad down here. Look, I have nice scented lotion!’”

  Even though this was technically a jab at my judgement, or lack thereof, I laughed, as did James.

  “Let’s give Cassie a little credit,” he said, coming to my defense. “She’s not an idiot. This is all really strange. We don’t know for sure what’s going on. We also don’t know for sure that anything bad is going to happen. But you do need to play it safe, and I’m happy to camp out here as long as you guys need me to.”

  “Thanks, James. We do appreciate it,” I said. And, oddly, I found that I was really glad he was there, even if the circumstances for his visit were somewhat less than desirable. Just like that morning when he had taken me by the shoulders and led me to the coffee shop when I was in a panic, I felt much calmer with him around.

  The rest of the evening passed uneventfully. The three of us sat around the living room, alternating between homework and watching Monday night reality TV that I normally despised but Amber loved. James kept up a running commentary picking fun at the various contestants, though, which made the whole thing far more entertaining, at least in my opinion.

  It was close to midnight when I had finished all my homework, neatly packed away the leftover pizza, and washed the dishes. James had dozed off on the couch, and Amber had retreated to her room to work on some sketches for an exhibit she had coming up. I decided to call it a night and
try to get some sleep. After brushing my teeth and washing my face, I changed into one of my favorite oversized t shirts and leggings and slipped into bed.

  Although I knew I really ought to get to sleep, I continued idly flicking through various apps on my phone for a few minutes. I had just resolved to stop with the cute puppy gifs and put the phone down when a new text appeared.

  Good night my beautiful Cassie. I hope you’ll be dreaming of me.

  I quickly sat upright, looking around wildly. Obviously there was no one in my room, so the only way someone could know I was in bed was by looking in the window.

  I flung the blankets off myself and darted to the window. It was difficult to see much. I could make out a porch light that was on at the neighbor’s house down the road, but that was about it. The large oak tree next the house partially blocked the view from my window, making it all the more baffling how anyone could see in.

  I hesitated briefly, unsure what to do next. Then I hurried out of my room and into the hallway.

  “Amber! James!” I called, aiming for a voice that was loud enough to alert them and not unsteady enough to freak them out.

  Amber’s door flung open almost instantly, and I heard a rustling from the living room that I assumed was James.

  “What is it?” Amber asked, multiple colored pencils stuck through her messy bun. I held out my phone, showing her the text.

  “He knew! He knew when I went to bed. He messaged me telling me goodnight! I think he can see me,” I said, noting my voice was a few octaves higher than normal.

  “What? You think he’s out there now?” came James’s voice from the bottom of the stairs.

  “Maybe? I don’t know!” I said quickly as Amber and I padded down the stairs. James wasted no time, slipping his feet into his sneakers and plucking a large, heavy looking flashlight from his overnight bag he had left near the door. He flicked on the porch lights, and warm light instantly flooded the yard. Opening the door, he turned briefly.

  “Stay here. Lock the door behind me,” he said firmly. Amber and I complied, then knelt on the couch, peering out the window to watch his progress as he searched the yard. He scanned the small bushes in front of the porch, then made his way towards the side of the house where the oak tree was.