Her Better Half

What a quaint name, I’d thought, Dovercourt Village.

Of course many things, in theory, were quaint. Wheelbarrows, country roads, watering cans, to name a few. In reality though, wheelbarrows were used to haul dirt and country roads were dusty in hot weather and impassable after rain. As for watering cans, well fine. Maybe they truly did qualify as quaint.

But Carbon Road was just an L-shaped street lined with World War I vintage homes in pairs like mine and Erin’s.

A short hedge, about two feet high, separated our properties, and after a brief hesitation, I decided to step over it rather than walk around.

Erin and Shelley were sitting out on the white porch. Shelley waved shyly. Heavens but she was cute with her chubby cheeks and baby-toothed smile. I remembered my daughters at that age. The three of us had had so much fun together. Trips to the zoo and the playground, baking cookies, reading books at night.

When did kids stop wanting to do those things?

I stopped at the bottom of the porch steps. A small wicker table held a pitcher of iced tea and a stack of plastic glasses. On one of the steps, exposed to the hot summer sun, perched a clay pot of snapdragons.

Why did I feel reluctant to go farther? Erin was so different from the kind of neighbors I’d been used to. So different from me. Despite the fact that I probably had about fifteen years on her, I was sure she was far more experienced in the ways of the world.

I felt, as ridiculous as it sounds to say it—shy.

Erin waved me closer. “Grab a chair and relax. It’s too hot to unpack boxes today, anyway.”

“True.” I pushed myself forward, and was surprised to find the wicker chair more comfortable than it looked. I took a deep breath. This is supposed to be fun, Lauren. “Thanks again for inviting me.”

“Hey, we’re going to be neighbors. We might as well get to know each other.”

Erin lapsed into silence, apparently in no hurry on the getting-to-know-one-another plan.

Shaded from the sun, relaxing in the chair, sipping the cold tea…I finally felt myself loosen up. Looking over the scene before me, my attention was caught by a big black shape in the front window. “You have a piano. Do you play?”

“Mommy teaches the piano,” Shelley said, crumbs clinging to the baby down on her cheeks.

“Really?”

“My students generally come in the evenings, some after school, others after dinner. I hope the noise won’t bother you too much.”

A piano teacher! The instant relief I felt cooled me more than any beverage ever could. My next-door neighbor was a piano teacher. That would teach me to judge people based on appearances.

“Mommy works at night, too,” Shelley volunteered. “Sometimes all night long. It’s dodgy and I haffta stay with Lacey or sometimes Murphy.”

Oh no. Alarmed and embarrassed, I wasn’t sure where to look. To my surprise, though, Erin just laughed.

“Who told you Mommy’s work was dodgy?”

“Lacey did. She says one day the police are going to come knocking at our door.”

“That old busybody.” Erin brushed crumbs from her daughter’s overalls. “My work isn’t dodgy. Lacey only wishes it was.”

“Why does she wish it was, Mommy?”

“’Cause she’s bored and lonely and needs something to think about.”

“Lacey isn’t lonely. She has lots of cats.”

“Exactly.” Erin turned to me. “Have you met our lovely Lacey yet? She likes to bring cookies over to new neighbors so she can check them out.”

“She came by about five minutes after we arrived with the moving truck,” I admitted. A short, ditzy-looking woman with frizzy hair and round glasses that had reminded the girls of Harry Potter.

“She lives across the street.” Erin pointed at the yellow house directly opposite us. “The place has a cat door. Animals run in and out all the time. Whenever she spends the night, Shelley comes home covered in cat hair. Fortunately she doesn’t have allergies. At least, not yet. Do your daughters babysit?”

Though I’d anticipated this question earlier, now I felt taken off guard. Shelley was a sweet little girl, but I wasn’t sure I wanted the twins to babysit for Erin until I knew more about her home situation.

“Are they twins? How old are they?” Erin asked.

Trapped, I answered, “Fifteen.”

This was all Gary’s fault. If he hadn’t deserted us, I wouldn’t be in this situation, trying to find a polite excuse for not allowing our daughters to babysit so that this woman could—

What? Have sex for money? Sell drugs in dark alleys?

“Well, if they’re interested in babysitting, I could sure use a backup for Lacey. I own my own business,” Erin finally explained. “Creative Investigations.”

“Is it…do you mean you’re a private investigator?”

Erin nodded and my interest was piqued. I’d loved mystery novels since I’d devoured volumes of Encyclopedia Brown as a kid.

But books were one thing. Real life investigations were undoubtedly something different. “That sounds like it could be slightly…” I checked to see if Shelley was listening, but the little girl had moved to the far end of the porch and was playing with LEGO. I lowered my voice to a whisper. “…dangerous?”

Erin laughed. “Not at all. I never take on anything with the potential to get, you know, messy.”

“The late-night assignments Shelley mentioned…?”

“Stakeouts. Sounds exciting, but trust me, they’re not. Mostly I’m just out to catch cheaters. Adultery. Insurance fraud. You know, dull stuff like that.”

Dull stuff?

“Hey, do you have the time?”

I checked the gold bracelet on my arm. “Almost one.”

“Good.” She pulled a bottle of vodka out from under her chair. “What do you say, Lauren?”

Vodka before dinner on a Tuesday afternoon?

I couldn’t make up my mind about Erin Karmeli. One minute she seemed okay, just another mother, like me. The piano teaching was certainly respectable enough. But Erin was also a private investigator, who looked like a hooker and might possibly be an alcoholic as well as a drug addict.

On the other hand…like it or not, this woman was now my closest neighbor. And this was my new life. And when in Rome…

“Sure.” I held up my glass. “I wouldn’t mind a little.”

CHAPTER 2