Page 39 of It's One of Us
“Olivia?” Eddie says through the phone’s speaker, and she breaks eye contact with Griffin White by reflex, glancing down at the black screen of her phone. When she looks up, he’s gone, and she is alone in the massive open space that will eventually be the kitchen and living room for the Jones family.
On impulse, she walks quickly to the front door and bolts it, too, then pops the back off the Kwikset and removes one of the four batteries so no one can use the code to get in. She is never afraid on her builds, and she has protection in the form of pepper spray and, if all else fails, at the bottom of her bag, a nonlethal Byrna that looks like a gun but fires projectiles instead of bullets. But something about this guy gives her the willies.
“Hey, Eddie, come on over, will you?”
There must be a note of concern in her voice because he doesn’t ask any more. “Yeah, I’m at Frothy Monkey. Be there in five.”
She clicks off, a shiver running through her at the idea of more coffee inside her build. An engine turns over, and she sees a decrepit white van with an extension ladder on top pulling away from the site.
What in the world just happened?
She is still asking herself this when Eddie knocks a few minutes later, making her jump.
When did she get so edgy?
Maybe when people you know started getting murdered?
“Why are you locked in here? The code wouldn’t work.”
“Because some idiot decided to come and ruin the slab, and I kicked him out.” She lets Eddie in, shows him the marble, listens to him cluck over the stain.
“I might be able to fix it if it’s not too deep. Want me to try?”
“Might as well.”
“Well, if I can’t get it out, maybe we’ll leather it to match the granite. Or flip it? The veins won’t be the same—”
“And won’t match the waterfall. Maybe we turn both pieces upside down... God, I am so pissed off.”
While he works on the stain, she calls Dave Caswell to rip him a new one for not only letting someone from his crew into the house, but ruining things by being stupid.
But Caswell is confused. “I don’t have anyone by that name on my rolls, Liv. I’ve never heard of him. And we aren’t supposed to pour those footers until Friday.”
“Are you sure you’re not covering up an expensive mistake?”
“I swear. You know me, Liv. I don’t lie. At least not to you.” He laughs a little, and she feels some of the tension leave her. “Honestly, I don’t recognize his description, either. If someone was in the build that none of us know, but he knew you, and lied about working for me? That’s creepy.” A pause. “I think you should call the cops.”
“You think I should? Isn’t that a little extreme?”
“Yeah, I do. I don’t like a stranger using my name, and from what you’re saying, he was trying to intimidate you. Plus, someone gave him the contractor code, or he was watching and got it that way, which means he could come back. Won’t hurt. Change that, too, okay?”
She hangs up and weighs her options. Considering what’s already happened this morning? Caswell is right. She needs to report this. But she feels like an idiot.911? Some guy was in my build and spilled coffee on the marble.
Hardly a crime.
But that grin. Licking his lips, the reverse strip tease with his hoodie. Standing there on the other side of the glass, staring at her like she was a display case of cupcakes...
“Hey, Liv? You left some papers here on the floor. Probably want to put them in your bag so you don’t forget them.”
“What?”
Eddie ambles out of the kitchen with a sheaf of papers. “Looks like some personal stuff.”
She knows she didn’t leave any paperwork here. She snatches it from him and leafs through. Park’s birth certificate. An old passport application. A pile of disclaimers and legal documents from Winterborn Life Sciences, in Chapel Hill.
The place where Park donated.
A stack of photographs falls to the floor. A dazzling smile, one Olivia recognizes.
