Page 120 of Switch!
Satisfied that we’re alone, I return to Patrick’s body and sit upright. “You don’t want to know how many bugs are in the house,” I finish. “Especially in the basement.”
Trixie grimaces. “We’re sleeping upstairs then. But first, let’s do some dungeon crawling.”
She leads the way. The first thing we discover when we descend the stairs is a home cinema with a screen and projector, complete with two rows of cushy theater seats. Attached to this are enough rooms to house a small family. Most of these aren’t of interest to us until we reach one with a cozy sitting area in the center, the walls lined with display cabinets. Most of the items inside appear to be antiques. We both move along the cabinets, which are separated by theme. One is filled with old pottery and primitive figurines. Another is stuffed full of Civil War relics, including a positively ancient revolver. Another has musical instruments on display. Trixie gravitates toward a violin propped up by a stand.
“Jackpot!” she shouts, ripping open the cabinet doors.
I tense, wondering if these treasures are protected by an alarm system. “You arewaytoo reckless,” I mutter.
“Relax. We’ve seen enough of the house to know we’re the only ones here. Besides, who leaves the alarm on when they’re at home? Especially during the day?”
“Oh.” The tension finally leaves my neck and shoulders. “Why didn’t you tell me that sooner?”
“Your face was too priceless,” Trixie says. Then she puts on one of her own. Her expression is awestruck as she takes the violin off its stand and handles it with uncharacteristic restraint. Even her voice is soft when she says with reverence, “What a beauty.”
“Is it better than yours?” I ask.
“No!” Trixie retorts. Then she tilts her head back and forth as if debating. “Okay, objectively it’s better in every regard, but I don’t love this instrument like I do my own. I could learn to though. Wow!”
She spins around to consider the room. Then she clicks her tongue a few times before whistling.
I make a face. “You’re nuts, aren’t you? I should have asked that when we first met, but better late than never.”
Trixie rolls her eyes. Then she whistles again. “You can’t hear that? The acoustics in this room are amazing! It’s made for playing. Sit down. I’ll show you.”
“Uh. In a sec. Let me park the car in the garage and close it. Otherwise, an actual concerned citizen might start poking around.”
Trixie nods absentmindedly, attention still on the instrument. By the time I return, she’s already playing. If I’m honest—and I have to be with her—I can’t really hear the difference. She doesn’t take offense, too caught up in the bliss of playing.
I enjoy the private concert. When she returns the violin to the cabinet, her cheeks are flushed like she’s crushing on someone new.
“How long can we stay?” she asks once we’re upstairs again and raiding the kitchen. “Please tell me Gary has a winter home that he left early for.”
“He has multiple homes,” I inform her, “although I don’t know when he plans to be at any of them. All I can promise you is two weeks. That’s when his return flight is scheduled.”
“Two weeks isn’t bad,” Trixie says. “We’ve gotten a good start on this month’s rent thanks to the check he wrote. We might want to keep busking anyway, so we don’t fall behind.”
I’m already shaking my head. “I want you to have a break. You deserve it.”
“Thanks,” Trixie says. “I suppose we could always sell the fancy stuff we found downstairs. The violin I was playing must be worth ten thousand. At least.”
It takes me a second to form a coherent response. “Tenthousand? As in dollars?”
Trixie shrugs. “It has an Italian name on it and is probably a hundred years old, so yeah. Could easily be double that.”
The thought alone makes me dizzy. “I promised myself we wouldn’t rob this guy.”
“Aside from food?” Trixie asks, taking a bite of a granola bar.
“That doesn’t seem as bad. People don’t usually treat food like a treasured possession. The violin though…”
“Or the Rolex in his bedroom upstairs,” Trixie supplies helpfully.
“Huh? You were up there for like… five seconds!”
She smiles. “I have a good eye.”
“How much is a Rolex worth?” I shake my head. “Don’t answer. It doesn’t matter. We can’t justify stealing from someone just because they’re a jerk. Can we?”
