Will woke in the night knowing something was wrong, but still too disoriented to know what had created the feeling. His ears and eyes took a few seconds to begin working again and then he heard it. A soft giggle and a scraping noise outside.
He threw off the covers and peeked through the blinds, though he knew the view outside would be completely blocked by the laurel tree in front of his window. And now he heard nothing, though his whole body tensed, just waiting for something to happen. He knew he hadn’t imagined it.
They’d had outside cameras installed after an attempted break-in years ago, and he threw on a robe and went to the kitchen, checked the camera images one by one, especially the camera trained on where he’d parked his car. No strange intruders lurked in any of them, and his car alarm hadn’t gone off.
He stalked out of the kitchen, grabbing a poker from the fireplace on his way to the front door. Cautiously, he eked the door open and listened. Nothing.
He took a step outside and his foot smeared into something soft and gooey. And oh that smell. Of all the awful, low-down, things to do. He’d fallen for a trick teenagers hadn’t tired of in several generations. At least it wasn’t in a flaming bag, though that was no comfort for his poor foot. What to do now? The last thing he wanted was to bring the stuff inside, but he wasn’t about to venture out to the hose to find heaven knows what else waiting for him. They’d better not touch his car. He should have put it in the garage long ago. If they’d sold Dad’s Bentley, like they’d been talking about for months, nothing would be sitting out in the open.
He firmly shut and locked the front door and hopped back to the nearest bathroom. Taking the liner out of the trash can, he used it to scrape the mess off his foot. “Stinking dog poop,” he muttered as he grabbed a roll of paper towels from under the sink. He wet a few, doused them with liquid hand soap, and washed it off as best he could before tying the paper towels up in the bag in a tight knot. Then he turned on the shower water and scrubbed his feet and hands.
If it was just the poop he wouldn’t bother calling the police. They’d only laugh at him and offer their sympathies. What was a disgusting, yet harmless, trick when there were murderers and thieves to track down? But he wouldn’t be able to sleep until he knew if that was all they’d done.
He turned on the front lights and headed out with a heavy flashlight, constantly checking his surroundings to make sure no one could sneak up on him. At almost five in the morning, it was awfully dark out. He went immediately to his car and his stomach dropped. Four slashed tires and spray paint down one side, spelling out an obscenity. This, with the gift at the front door, felt very personal, and there was only one person he could think of who would stoop to such a level to let him know how he felt.
Will immediately reported it to the police. While he waited for them to send an officer, he took pictures and then went inside to check the cameras again, this time, going back far enough to see the surveillance a half hour before he’d awoken.
They were quick. The two people only took ten, maybe fifteen seconds by the car. Then one of them ran to the front door to deliver the poop. Both wore large hoodies, though it didn’t hide the fact that the smaller one was most definitely a woman.
***
The flowers in the decorative pot by their front door were drooping and Elsie dropped the mail on the welcome mat so she could get the hose. Jane usually took care of them, but despite all her claims to being over Charlie, she wasn’t quite the same. There were several times when Elsie spoke to her and she didn’t hear until Elsie repeated herself. Jane’s mind was just … elsewhere.
For the hundredth time, Elsie wished she could help, but for now, taking care of things Jane used to care about was all she could think to do.
The kid that usually mowed their lawn had broken his leg attempting a trampoline trick and the grass was reaching unkempt yard status. Elsie sighed. She could use the exercise anyway. She pulled their push mower out of the garage and attached the extension cord, plugging it in near the front door.
She ran in to grab her earbuds and soon was making satisfying headway across the front grass to the sounds of The Beatles.
She growled whenLet It Bewas interrupted by an incoming phone call and paused the mower, wiping her hands on her jeans before answering.
“Everything okay, Mom?”
“No, everything is not okay. Come right now. It’s Lydia. She’s been arrested.”
“What? I’ll be right over.” Elsie hung up and immediately pulled the extension cord out of the mower, wrapping it in quick circles from elbow to palm until she reached where it was plugged in and yanked it out of the wall. She dropped the cord at the doorstep, opened the door, and threw the mail inside. Then she ran to her parent’s house, hoping this was all blown out of proportion but fearing the worst. To her mind, there was nothing worse than misguided optimism.
“Elsie!” her mother threw open the door and wrapped her arms around her daughter in an unusual display of physical affection.
“Tell me what’s going on. Where’s Dad?”
“I’m right here.” He sat on the couch looking defeated. “Jane is on her way. She was running an errand for me. Kat, get in here.”
Kat slinked around the corner and sat meekly next to her dad. “I didn’t know about any of this, I swear.”
“But you knew Lydia was with Jeff?”
“Didn’t you? It was kind of obvious.” Kat glared at the floor. “If I’d been with her she never would have done something like this.”
“Well don’t worry. Rules are changing around here. For one, you need to get a job and start acting responsibly if you want to continue living here. Look at Elsie. She has two jobs.”
“Will someone please tell me what happened?” Elsie cut in, exasperated. Although she agreed about Kat getting a job.
Her dad looked up. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you earlier, Elsie. Apparently, Lydia and Jeff vandalized Will Darcy’s car.”
Elsie dropped to the couch and gripped her head in her hands. “No. Please no.” She felt guilty by association. Guilty for enabling Jeff’s victimhood, for buying his stories. “Vandalized how?”
He shook his head. “I’m not sure. All Lydia said was the police pulled them over for speeding through his neighborhood, and when they saw the can of spray paint in the back seat of her car and the smell and residue of it on Jeff’s hands, they detained them. I’m sure once Will Darcy reported the damage they put it all together.”
