Page 21 of Summer Storms


  “I’ll be there,” Ian cut in. “What time?”

  “Sixish.”

  “I’ve got it on my calendar.” Again, the silence fell between them.

  “Well, I should go. I’ve got a lot of calls to make.” She switched her phone to the opposite ear and rubbed her sweating palm on her pants.

  “Um…okay…see you then.” He sounded disappointed, making her hold onto the line another minute, waiting to see if he’d say anything else, but the phone went dead.

  She hung up and stared at the phone thoughtfully. What had he been planning to say? Why hadn’t he said it after her invitation? She considered calling him back but the phone rang with Emma’s ring tone.

  “I wanted to make sure you made it home.”

  “Sorry, I forgot to call you guys. I was so tired when I got home I fell right asleep. I didn’t get much rest at the hotel.” Lizzie gave her friend the highlights of the weekend and shared with her the plans for the party.

  “We’ll be there. I look forward to meeting your friends. Can I do anything to help with the planning?” Emma asked.

  “Maybe you can come over early and help me get things set up.”

  “Will do. I’ll make some of my spinach dip, too. I know how much you like that.”

  “Thanks, Emma. I’ll talk to you later.” Lizzie spent the next hour calling her friends, inviting them to the party, and swapping stories about the storm.

  “Is this Ian guy going to be at the party?” Stephanie asked.

  “He said he would, why?”

  “I want to meet the guy who has you talking like a schoolgirl.”

  “What?” Lizzie exclaimed. “He doesn’t make me do that.”

  Stephanie laughed. “Believe me he does, and that’s a good thing. You need a little love in your life.”

  “Whoa, slow the horses down, there’s no love going on. We’re just friends, and barely that.”

  “Uh huh, in that case, do you mind if I go out with him? He sounds like a dream.”

  “Stop it,” Lizzie shot back.

  “Alright, I’ll see you next weekend then.”

  CHAPTER FORTY FIVE

  The bungalow appeared unscathed when Jeffrey pulled into the driveway. He made a quick tour of the perimeter finding several palm fronds scattered around the yard, which he collected and lugged to the curb. Satisfied with his inspection, he went inside and tossed his keys on the coffee table. He took a quick shower, changed into gray dress pants and a bright blue shirt, and headed back out.

  He maneuvered through the traffic, arriving at work in fifteen minutes. Jenny’s car was the only one in the parking lot despite the fact it was almost one o’clock. He found Jenny at her desk, phone held to her ear. She waved at him and finished the call.

  “I wasn’t sure if you were coming in.” Jenny stood and carried a pile of papers to him.

  “Yeah, sorry about that. Looks like the rest of the crew is having some challenges getting here also.” He thumbed through the papers as he spoke.

  “A few have called, I told them to come in. They should be here soon. Maybe the rest thought they’d get the day off since the storm didn’t clear out till this morning.”

  “If anyone else calls tell them to stay home and we’ll start back tomorrow. I’m going to head out to check for damage, send the others to do the same. Once that is done we’ll call it a day.” Jeffrey donned his hard hat and headed out the door.

  Wally and three other guys were parking as he crossed the muddy lot. He gave them instructions to split into pairs and sweep through the building looking for any damage.

  Upon entering the first floor, Jeffrey gave his eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness before switching on his flashlight. He wandered through the maze of unfinished rooms, finding only food wrappers, aluminum cans, and other garbage that had blown in.

  He trudged up the stairs to the fourth floor and had to take a minute to catch his breath. He leaned against the cold cement wall. As his breathing quieted, he heard a sound, like a tin can rolling on the concrete floor. His back straightened and his gaze panned from left to right.

  His flashlight cast a narrow beam through the deep shadows making it hard to see very far. He took a cautious step toward the area the noise had come from, his senses straining for any indication of something out of place. Entering a small room, a foul odor assaulted him. He raised his arm over his nose and mouth and took another step forward. His foot hit something and he stumbled forward. He swung his light to the floor illuminating a dirty backpack.

  Jeffrey gave the bag a nudge with his toe and waved the flashlight around the small room, realizing he must be in a storage closet. There were several crumpled newspapers and food wrappers in the corner and he made his way toward these. He knelt and picked through the debris unsure what he was looking for.

  “Don’t touch that.” A man’s voice came from the darkness, tentative but demanding.

  Jeffrey spun around, the flashlight caught a shadow hunched in the doorway then flickered and died. I should have put in fresh batteries, he rebuked himself.

  “Where are you?” Jeffrey called into the darkness beyond the doorway. The only response was a soft swish of fabric as the man ran away. Jeffrey rushed toward the door, paused to peer into the hallway, and turned left hoping he was going the right way.

  “This is private property,” he called as he walked toward the outer edges of the building. A hacking cough reverberated on the concrete walls. Jeffrey stood, trying to pinpoint the source of the noise. He took a left at the next corridor and headed back to the center of the building. He tried to picture the blueprints, but without any point of reference, he was lost.

  Occasionally he crossed a hallway that extended all the way to the outside, allowing for a thin corridor of light. He paused in one of these halls trying to get his bearings. He could hear two of the guys from his crew laughing on the floor above.

  “I don’t want any trouble,” the man called.

  “Then come out and we can talk.” Jeffrey waited, turning in all directions. Ten feet ahead, he saw movement. His muscles tensed, prepared to strike if necessary.

  “I don’t want any trouble,” the man repeated as he emerged from the darkness into the corridor. Even in the limited light, Jeffrey could tell the man was filthy; he was unshaven and his hair was matted. The stench he had smelled in the storage closet returned as the man approached.

  “What are you doing here?” Jeffrey called.

  “I just wanted to get out of the storm.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Jeffrey caught a glance of flashlight beams but he didn’t dare turn away from this intruder. A moment later, he heard his name called.

  “I’m down here, guys,” he called to the crew.

  “I need my bag.” The man’s voice was desperate.

  “One of my guys can get it. Why don’t we go outside and talk?”

  “No, those are my things, they can’t touch them.” The man was growing agitated. Wally and another man came up behind the vagrant.

  “What you got here, boss?” Wally asked in surprise.

  “Wally, would you please go find this man’s bag. It’s in a storage closet somewhere back that way.” Jeffrey waved off in the direction he’d come from. “We’ll meet you outside.”

  “Sure thing.” Wally scooted past as Jeffrey and the two other men moved toward the stairwell. The remaining workers were waiting outside and reported they had found no damage on the upper floors.

  “Thanks, guys. You can take off. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Jeffrey dismissed the crew before turning his attention back to the visitor. “What’s your name?”

  The man shuffled, his eyes roving. “Samuel. Look, I didn’t mess with anything. I’ll just get my bag and be going.”

  “Calm down, Samuel.” Jeffrey was surprised by the sense of compassion and curiosity he felt. It was obvious the man was homeless, but he was well spoken, and more muscular than most of the vagrants Jeffrey saw around Lake Eola. H
is clothes, while worn and discolored, had once been expensive.

  “How did you end up here?” Jeffrey leaned against his truck still sizing up the man.

  “I got caught in the storm and couldn’t make it to the shelter. I didn’t think there’d be any harm in waiting inside, but it lasted longer than I expected.” Samuel coughed into his coat sleeve.

  “I don’t mean how’d you end up in the building, I mean why are you living on the streets?” Jeffrey caught Samuel’s gaze and saw him flinch. Wally came out of the building holding the backpack at arm’s length.

  “You don’t want to hear my story.” Samuel grabbed for his bag and tugged it onto his back.

  “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t,” Jeffrey said.

  Samuel shrugged. “My wife got cancer a few years ago. I had to take a lot of time off work to care for her and ended up getting fired. Without insurance, the medical bills piled up. A couple of months after she died I lost the house, and haven’t been able to get another job.”

  “I think it’s illegal to fire someone for that, there’s family medical leave you can take. Did you try to fight it?”

  “What was I going to fight with? I couldn’t afford a lawyer.” Samuel gave a tired sigh.

  “What kind of work do you do?”

  “I was an electrician.”

  “Do you have any references?”

  “You aren’t going to hire me so why don’t you just let me go?” Samuel turned to leave.

  “I don’t know why, but I want to give you a chance to get back on your feet. If you can provide me with some references I might be able to help you get a job.” Jeffrey was frustrated by the man’s stubbornness.

  Samuel eyed Jeffrey then flicked his gaze to Wally who stood a few feet off. “Is this guy for real?” Samuel asked.

  “Most of the time,” Wally replied with a lopsided grin.

  “You don’t have to decide right now. Think about it and come back later in the week if you want.” Jeffrey extended a hand to Samuel. “I’m usually here from eight to five.”

  Samuel stared at the outstretched hand then slowly raised his own and offered a firm handshake. “I’ll think about it.”

  CHAPTER FORTY SIX

  Lizzie spent the remainder of the week preparing for her party. Her evenings filled with unpacking boxes, locating serving trays and wine glasses, burning mix cds, and planning the menu. At work, she found herself delegating more tasks to Stephen and was impressed with how quickly he was learning to read the guests.

  “Mrs. Henderson is checking in this afternoon, think you can handle it?” Lizzie asked as she went over the day’s arrivals with Stephen. She saw a look of panic flash in his eyes. She waited and watched him take a deep breath before responding.

  “I can do it,” he said.

  “Good, here is her file. Get familiar with it, review the reservations we have made and be prepared to go over them with her. She will push you and try to trip you up. She’s like a kid testing its boundaries. Remain calm and pleasant but firm and she will respect you. I need to go check on things in the concierge lounge, want to tag along?”

  “You think Jonathan will mind?” Stephen gave a nervous glance toward the manager’s office.

  “He knows you’re training with me.” Lizzie stood and slipped on her blazer.

  They rode the elevator to the sixth floor in silence. When they reached the concierge lounge Lizzie greeted the handful of guests still lingering over coffee and pastries. She cleaned up some crumbs on the counter and made sure the beverage carafes were all full, explaining the upkeep procedures as she went. Stephen scribbled in a notebook he’d taken to carrying with him.

  “You’re coming to my party right?” Lizzie asked on the way back to the office.

  “Of course. Haven’t you taught me to network every chance I get?” Stephen grinned.

  “That’s my boy,” she crowed with delight. They returned to the desk and spent the rest of the morning preparing itineraries for guests arriving over the weekend. At three forty-five, an instant message from the front desk appeared on her screen advising her that Elaine Henderson was at the desk.

  “You ready for this?” Lizzie asked.

  Stephen stood, puffed his chest out, nodded, and marched through the door to the desk area with confidence. Lizzie slipped out the side door and hid behind a Ficus tree to oversee the transaction.

  “Oh no, not you,” Elaine cried when Stephen stepped up to the counter.

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Henderson, it’s a pleasure to see you again.” He gave her a warm smile.

  “Where’s Elizabeth? I want to see her right now.”

  “I’m so sorry, but she’s not available. I’m happy to assist you.” Stephen produced a sheet of paper with a flourish and placed in on the desk. “As you can see I already have your itinerary. Maybe you would like to go to the concierge lounge and have a glass of wine while we review everything.” His smile never slipped but his voice grew more determined. Lizzie could tell by the motion of his arms that Stephen’s fingers were flying over the keyboard completing the check-in process as he spoke.

  “Will you be using your regular credit card?” He asked before hitting the final key to complete the transaction.

  Elaine stared at him, her mouth hanging open. Stephen drew his smile broader and waited. She hoisted her purse onto the marble desk, dug through her wallet, and slid a black American Express card toward him.

  “We have a bottle of Santa Margherita Pinot Grigio chilling for you in the lounge. Why don’t you go on up and relax. I’ll be there in a few minutes.” He handed Elaine her room key.

  Lizzie waited for Elaine to disappear in the elevator before leaving her hiding place. She approached Stephen with a sense of victory filling her heart.

  “I couldn’t have done it better,” she applauded him.

  Stephen chuckled. “She looked pretty shell shocked when she left; think I should give her a minute to recover?”

  “She’ll be fine by the time you get up there. Throwing in the specific wine was a good touch. Shows you’re aware of her preferences and are capable of meeting her needs. That’s what she wants. Now get going. Don’t want to make her wait too long.” Lizzie gave him a high five as he boarded the elevator.

  With Stephen’s help, Lizzie was able to get out of the office a little before five. She took her time walking home, enjoying the Friday night excitement. The restaurants she passed were setting up extra tables outside to take advantage of the crystal clear evening and gentle breeze. Many of the downtown residents were streaming out of their homes. When she arrived at her house, she found a note from Mae taped to her door.

  Call or come by when you get home. That man was here again. Love, Mae

  Lizzie shoved the note in her pocket and raced across the street, eyes darting all around, fearful of being watched. She rapped on the door, anxious for Mae to appear. The seconds crawled by with no response and she rapped again. Finally Mae pulled open the door and motioned for Lizzie to enter.

  Mae led her to the living room, a spacious room with two blue recliners, a brown plaid loveseat, a straight-back chair that looked antique, a large china cabinet, and a long low cabinet with an old television console. Mae settled into one of the recliners and Lizzie perched on the edge of the loveseat.

  “I’m worried about you,” Mae’s voice trembled. “Is there anyone who can come stay with you for a few days?”

  “What happened?” Panic churned in the pit of Lizzie’s stomach, fearful Ralph Anderson had threatened her in some way.

  “He came by around three o’clock. He knocked on my door, but I didn’t answer him, then he went prowling around your house. He must have spent fifteen minutes peering in your windows and walking around the property. I get the feeling he might have gone through your garbage as well. I saw him coming from the back of the house and he was pulling off a pair of gloves. I called the police, but they didn’t seem to think it was all that important and didn’t get here
until he was already gone.”

  “I’m so sorry he came here. The officer who came out the other day gave me his card. I will call him and see if there is anything he can do.”

  “He didn’t have someone driving him this time. I gave the police the information on the car, but I don’t know if it will help them any.” Mae gave Lizzie an apologetic look.

  “Thank you for looking out for me.” Lizzie felt a lump in her throat. She hugged Mae and slipped out of the house.

  Back at her house with all the doors locked, Lizzie pulled Officer Prentiss’ business card off the refrigerator and dialed his number. His voicemail picked up and she left a message with the details Mae had given her and her phone number.

  When she hung up, she opened the fridge and stared blankly, not seeing the cheese and fruit platters, cakes, and pies waiting for the next day. She let go of the handle and the door closed. She picked up the phone again and called Emma. As she waited for the line to connect, she tried to decide how much to tell her friends about the frightening man. Her heart sank when she heard Emma’s voicemail.

  “Well, nothing else I can do about it right now,” she said shrugging off her worry and focusing on final preparations for the party.

  CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN

  Saturday morning Lizzie awoke to menacing clouds on the horizon. The weatherman predicted showers all morning into the late afternoon. Her heart sank as she pictured her plans for the evening falling apart. A knock at the door surprised her.

  She crept to the door and leaned into the peephole but couldn’t see anything. The person on the other side was covering the opening. Her heart began to race and she struggled to remain calm. She reached for the phone and dialed 9-1-1.

  “9-1-1 what’s your emergency?” A brassy female voice came on the line.

  “There’s a man outside my door,” Lizzie whispered.

  “I’m sorry ma’am you’re going to have to speak up I can’t hear you.” The operator sounded annoyed Lizzie was interrupting her day. There was another knock, louder this time.

  “There’s someone outside my house. He’s been here several times and I don’t know who he is.”

  “Is he trying to break into the house?”

  “Not yet, but I think he might.”

 
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