Chapter Fifteen
When Atticus pulled into the trailer park, a flood of memories hit him as he navigated through the potholes and cracked concrete, passing the rusted metal houses.This place felt eerily similar to the trailer park his grandmother had lived in when he was a kid.
Most of these were in desperate need of repair, some likely should’ve been condemned already.Every sixth one looked as though someone cared for it enough to add some homier touches, such as the bright yellow flowers in a homemade window box or mulch around a skinny tree in the yard.
He wondered what it had looked like when Decker lived there.The same?Or was it now rundown from time and lack of interest or means?
“You see any numbers?”Atticus asked Archer.
Tesha’s head popped up between the seats as though she was going to be the one to give him direction.
“A couple.Keep going.”Archer scratched Tesha’s head.“Based on what I’m seeing, it’ll be at the end of this street on the right.”
They could’ve walked the neighborhood easily.All three streets ran parallel to one another, roughly ten houses on each side, for a total of fifty to sixty trailers.Maybe less because there were a few empty lots sprinkled in.Or perhaps they weren’t empty, and the grass was just too high to see what was buried within.
“According to what Luca found the other day,” Archer noted, “Decker’s father passed away two years ago.The house shows to be in Decker’s name now, and it looks like someone’s paying the rent on the lot.Trailer is paid for.”
Was Decker paying for it?Did he have a sentimental attachment?Or just didn’t have time to get by and clear it out?
Those were questions Atticus didn’t think they would get answers to.Decker Bromwell did not seem like the forthcoming type.
“This is it,” Archer said, pointing toward a freshly painted trailer with cream-colored siding and maroon trim.This particular single-wide mobile home was considerably newer and not metal.Byconsiderably, Atticus figured it had been new sometime in the late 90s, while the majority of the others would’ve been constructed in the early to mid-80s.
“Looks like someone’s keepin’ up with the place,” Archer said.“And keeping the yard mowed.”
There weren’t any homey touches on this one, but the yard was mowed, the shrubs—what few there were—had been trimmed.
Was Decker doing that?And why bother when the rest of the neighborhood looked like the weeds were attempting to swallow it up?
The driveway was wide enough for two cars, but there weren’t any parked there.The concrete was stained from years of leaking oil.Beside the driveway was a mailbox that looked like it had been replaced recently.
Archer got out first, helping Tesha out of the back seat.Atticus moved more slowly, glancing at the trailers across the street, wondering if any of the current occupants had lived there when Decker was a kid.
When he joined Archer and Tesha on the path to the door, he said, “Let’s knock.Maybe he’s rentin’ the place out.”
Archer remained on the path with Tesha while Atticus walked up on the small wooden deck that passed as a porch.The storm door looked new.Cheap, but new.There was no doorbell, so he opened the screen and knocked on the front door.
After a minute, it became evident that no one was going to answer.
“We’ll check the back,” Archer said, slipping around the side of the house with Tesha prancing at his side.
Again, Atticus looked around, attempting to act as though he was supposed to be there.A short time later, the front door opened, and Archer appeared.
“Definitely vacant.”Archer stepped back so Atticus could join him.
“Did you pick the lock?”
“Well, I wasn’t crawling through the window.”
That particular mental image made Atticus smile.He could just see Archer stuck in the window, giant shoulders wedged, his ass hanging out.
Closing the door behind him, Atticus stepped into the dimly lit room.New blinds covered the windows, keeping the sun at bay.Or maybe they’d put them up to keep prying eyes from checking out the place.There was new carpet in the living room, and new laminate wood flooring in the kitchen and hallway.It smelled like fresh paint.
“Not much to it,” Archer said from somewhere off to the right.“Two bedrooms, one bath.There’s furniture back here.”
Atticus made his way down the narrow hallway, past a bathroom which looked like it had been gutted and redone, and a small, recently carpeted bedroom on the right.At the end was another bedroom, likely considered the primary in a house of this size.It had been painted, and the new carpet extended in there as well.The furniture was new: a full-size, white lacquer bed, a matching dresser, and a nightstand.On the dresser, a black jewelry box sat on top of a white doily.On the nightstand, there was a pink, wind-up alarm clock and a lamp with a frilly shade.The plush white comforter and pillows decorating the bed still had creases from the packages they’d been in.
“I don’t get it,” Atticus said, slowly spinning to take it all in.“Why furniture in here?”
