Page 66 of Enemies in Paradise

So the next day, after I finish putting in a toilet at one of Georgia’s cottages, I head to the shop to both feed the squirrels and check the pipes. I don’t know if Cassie will let me in the door, but I at least have to tell her she might have a plumbing problem.

Grandpa won’t let any other plumbers besides me take care of the plumbing here, so if Cassie doesn’t let me check the pipes, she’d better hope nothing is wrong with them.

Leaving nuts out for the adult squirrels is easy enough, but hand-feeding the babies takes some time. Their formula has to be mixed, then strained, then mixed again to make sure there are no lumps in it. After that, I cradle the first squirrel around his belly and use the syringe to feed him a little at a time.

He’s so compliant that I can’t wrap my head around how something this little and helpless could cause such a disaster yesterday.

I wish I had someone with me who could feed the other squirrel, because this isn’t a fast process. Cassie is an obvious choice, but there’s no way I’d ask her, even if I heard her next door—which I don’t. Not after the way I talked to her yesterday, and not while she’s working hard to make sure I never get my pond.

When I’m done with the squirrels, the sun has set, and I still have to check the pipes. So I find Cassie’s info and send her a text.

Checking the pipes in the shop and studio for blockage. Hope that’s okay.

BEAR

When she doesn’t answer, I decide to check the shop’s restrooms first, even though they’re less of a worry than the studio’s. I don’t want to go into the apartment without her permission. But the pipes are all connected, so if there’s a problem over here, there will be in the studio too.

Just as I suspected would happen, when I try the faucet, the sink fills. Something is obviously keeping the water from draining. The toilet also threatens to overflow when I flush it.

I snake the sink drain, but that doesn’t fix the problem, which means things are even worse than I suspected. And if they’re badin here, they’re worse in the studio where I suspect the source of the problem is.

I spend the next hour doing what I can to unclog the pipes, but the more I investigate, the more I’m sure the entire building needs a major re-pipe. To me, this is one more reason to raze the whole thing, but I am aware of my biases, so I keep it to myself.

My phone dings, and I pull it out. Cassie’s name is on the screen with a three-word answer:That’s fine, BJORN.

I almost laugh at the aggressiveness of it. I don’t know why she refuses to call me Bear, other than to annoy me.

Except…she called me Bear yesterday. At least, I think she did. I was too angry in the moment for it to register.

A warm flicker of hope threatens to catch fire, but I quickly tamp it out. I can’t risk reigniting the torch I’ve been carrying too long for Cassie, especially when I’ve got a face-off with her and the city council in a few days.

I tuck the phone back in my pocket and pack up my tools to take next door. As I drop the last wrench into my toolbag, I hear a dull clinking on the other side of the wall, where the studio bathroom is. I can’t quite place the noise… it’s not pipes… more like a —

—At the same time I pinpoint the sound, water turns on. The rings on the shower curtain. That’s the sound. Cassie is taking a shower.

Didn’t I tell her not to turn on the water?

I take my phone out and reread the too-short message I sent her that says nothing about not using the water. I should have checked the studio plumbing first, because now, on top of being worried about the pipes, I can’t stop thinking about the fact Cassie is in the shower.

As if to confirm my worst fears, a loud rattling shakes the pipes to the toilet and under the sink. An even louderscreeching follows the rattling, then crescendos before coming to a stuttering stop.

I have enough time to take one nervous breath before the crash comes. Seconds later, a much louder sound follows.

“Oh shhhh… eepadoodle.”

I’ve been a plumber long enough to recognize the sound of a pipe bursting. Cassie’s screams I’m less familiar with, but I’m certain that’s the other noise coming from the studio.

I grab my bag and rush toward the door to the studio. The noise of rushing water mingled with cursing gets louder the closer I get, so I don’t bother knocking. I burst through the door at full speed.

The light is dim, and I crash into what’s on the other side of the door.

It’s Cassie.

I crash into Cassie.

The floor is wet and slippery, and we both lose our balance. On instinct, I drop my toolbag and wrap my arms around Cassie to keep her from falling.

This makes her scream louder, so I loosen my grip.

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