Welcome Home, Katie Gallagher

More grumbling. I’m pretty sure I heard some cussing, too. “I’m not stalking you. I got into the habit of driving by Nellie’s house to keep an eye on it over the last few months. I forgot about you until I saw the car. Then I saw the mattresses and junk on the porch. I got out to investigate and saw you, sleeping in your beat-to-shit car.”

Humph. “A likely story.”

I think he was grinding his teeth now. Weird sound. “One more time. Why are you sleeping in your car? If the house isn’t habitable, why didn’t you go to a hotel?”

“Hotels are expensive, genius. I’m just going to go back to cleaning when I wake up, which is apparently now, fricking Nosy Parker.” I pulled the blanket tighter around myself.

He turned, and his flashlight beam lit up the porch and house. “How did animals get in?”

I blew out a breath. “Three windows were left open, the screens chewed through. From the looks of it, they had quite the kegger.”

“I didn’t think to check all the windows. When Nellie got sick, Pops moved her into his house so she wouldn’t have to climb stairs, and so he’d be there when she needed him. Her house has been empty for months.”

The night was becoming more gray than black, allowing me to see the annoyance written all over his face. “Do you want me to go in? Try to get rid of whatever’s taken roost?”

“No, thanks. Bye now!” My stomach chose that moment to rumble. Chaucer shifted, putting his head in my lap to investigate the sound.

More swearing. “Have you eaten?”

“You bet. See ya!” The damn cop would not take a hint.

He started to back away, thank goodness, but then stopped. “I can come back with my pickup. Take all that stuff to the dump for you.”

I leaned forward again, trying to get a better look at his expression. “Why would you do that? You don’t like me, remember?”

“I don’t care enough to not like you. Anyway it’s Nellie I’m thinking about.” He exhaled sharply. “I should have checked the windows. I’ve been driving by every day to check on her house and never once thought about the inside.”

He turned back to me. “Listen, don’t let Pops know, okay? He’s been killing himself tending the garden for her. Just...don’t tell him. Okay?”

“I won’t.”

“I’ll go get my pickup now. Can you pull out anything else that’s been destroyed? And I’ll haul it all away. He may stop by to check on the plants. I don’t want him seeing any of this.”

“Okay.”

He jogged back to his cruiser and left without another word.

“I guess we’re getting started early this morning,” I said to Chaucer.

I fed him with what was left in the bag of dog food. “We need to go shopping today, buddy.”

I cleaned out the rest of the pantry and then the closet under the stairs. Most of the jackets and things that were hanging had been shredded, as though something was searching for food. One looked in decent shape, so I put it aside to wash.

There was a box on the floor that squeaked. I dragged it out of the closet and quickly stuffed a stray scarf into the hole that had been chewed in the side. If there was a nest of rats in the box, I didn’t want to know anything about it. Ever. I hauled it out to the porch, and then pushed it to the extreme end, wanting it as far away as possible. I pretended not to hear the scratching coming from inside. Nope. I didn’t hear a thing.

I stuffed all the sheets and towels that had been used as varmint beds into a large garbage bag, and threw it down the stairs. After I’d gone through the closets and tossed everything that had been gnawed or defecated on, I went back downstairs and stared at my nemesis, the couch. That rat had probably come back during the night, burrowing into the soft, warm couch, laughing its little rat ass off at my sleeping in the car. I wasn’t letting that asshole win. That couch was out of here. I didn’t care if I lived on lawn furniture for the next year, I wasn’t settling for a rat’s sloppy seconds.

I glared at the piece of furniture another minute, and then started pushing it toward the door. Chaucer hopped up on the couch, because rides are fun, and let me struggle to get the damn thing across the room.

“Not helping, buddy,” I gasped. He grinned at me and rolled over.

“Need some help?”

My heart seized. For one terrifying moment, I thought the rat was taunting me. Aiden stood in the doorway, watching me. I looked down at Chaucer who was still pretending to sleep. “Some guard dog you are.” His rear paws kicked into the air.

Aiden didn’t wait for an answer. He walked in, nudged me out of the way and pushed the couch across the floor, Chaucer and all. At the doorway, he tipped my dog out and looked at me. “Can you get the other end, help me get it out?”

As long as he was going to do all the heavy lifting, fine by me. I climbed over the end, leaned down to grab the couch arm and yelled, “Pivot!”

Staring at me a beat, he shook his head. “I can’t decide if you’re insane or...”

I raised my hand in the air. “Oh. Oh. I know!”

Rolling his eyes, he shoved the couch out the door. He pushed it all the way down the porch steps, dragging it up into the bed of his truck. When he was done, he jogged back up the steps and picked up a mattress, shouldered it back to the truck and tossed it in.

I watched as he did the same with the other mattress and the bags of chewed-up linens. When he went for the rat box, I felt the need to advise caution. “You’ll want to be very careful with that box. You may hear squeaking and scratching. Ignore it. And for goodness’ sake, do not open the lid!”

When he studied the box warily, I knew we were on the same page. He glanced at me and then at his truck bed. “Is this all of it?”

“Nope.”

“Then why are you just standing there watching me?” He placed the rat box securely in a corner, where it wouldn’t be jostled. Smart man.

“It’s fun to watch other people work. Duh.” I walked back in the house to see what I had missed.

“Insane!” he shouted from the front yard.

“Pfft. As if.” I walked through the living room, dining room, kitchen and bath on the first floor. I would need to mop the floors again, but just about everything seemed to be cleared out.

“Are we done?” Aiden was back in the doorway, looking at the empty rooms.

Pointing at the squashy chair, I said, “I haven’t had the nerve to check that yet.”

He strode over to the chair and cautiously lifted the cushion, looking underneath. When he jumped and threw the cushion, I screamed and ran for the porch. I was hiding around the corner when I heard his booming laugh. Bastard.

Strolling back in, my arms crossed, I said, “Hilarious.”

Chuckling, he put the cushion back. “Good news. You have somewhere to sit.”

“Yay, me.” I looked around the empty rooms, wondering if I’d be able to sleep in that chair. “I couldn’t lift the box springs upstairs. Getting the mattresses down just about killed me.”

He looked me up and down. “How did you get the mattresses down the stairs and out the door?”

“Terror is a great motivator.”

He jogged up the stairs. “Okay. Two box springs coming down.” When he returned a few minutes later, he said, “You’re going to want to pick up some traps. Oh, and don’t go in the bedrooms for a few minutes.”

“What? Why?” It’d probably be easier to just sell the house and start again.