Hello Love (5 page)

TEN

Only a minute after talking to frat boy number two, Andrea had made a decision. She picked up the phone and dialed Stan. After it rang five times, he finally picked up. She said, “Hi, this is Andrea. I was hoping you could deliver a letter tonight to some tenants who work first shift.”

But Stan could barely talk and was, he told her, taking a sick day. “Maybe tomorrow?” he croaked. “If my feber goes down.”

She could tell by his voice that he’d been sleeping. “Did I wake you up?”

“Yeth.” Even listening to him was painful. “I’m really out of it. I took a lot of NyQuil.” He let out a raspy laugh that morphed into a hacking cough.

Andrea said, “Go back to sleep and don’t worry about it. I’ll give you a call in a day or two.” After they said their good-byes, Andrea wondered if he’d even remember their conversation. She went back to the computer and found the form for a 42, inserted the date and the frat boys’ names, and printed the letter. She stamped it at the bottom with Tommy’s signature and tucked it into an envelope. The guy’s sneering words still rung in her head:
Look, lady, I’m at work right now and I don’t have time for this. You tell that stoner if he’s going to be making up crap about us, I’m going to beat him so hard his eyeballs will shoot out the back of his head.

Who talked like that? Andrea hadn’t denied it was the stoner downstairs, and maybe she should have, because it hadn’t been him at all. The two girls across the hall had been the first ones to call. Simone, the one who actually talked to Andrea, begged her not to reveal their identity. “We’ve partied with those guys and they’re cool and all,” she said. “But why should they get to keep a dog if no one else can? They said she was a stray they picked up by the side of the road, and that was nice of them and all, but dogs aren’t allowed in this building. They’ve had her for weeks and weeks and at first it was kind of cool, but now they don’t even take care of Anni and she barks all the time. It’s totally against the rules.” The whine in her voice reminded Andrea of a girl in middle school. Why should someone else get something if I can’t? And then Simone added, “And one time my roommate saw one of them kick her.”

“He
kicked
her?” Andrea couldn’t keep the horror out of her voice. “And no one reported this?”

Simone must have realized she’d crossed a line, because she said, almost defensively, “Well, it was more like he shoved Anni really hard with his boot. But she made that crying noise dogs make sometimes. I just don’t think they should have a dog.”

Andrea took a deep breath and started taking notes. “So it’s a female dog. Anni? How big is she?”

“I don’t know,” Simone said. “Not too big.” She covered the phone and conferred with her roommate before coming back to say, “Gretchen says the dog is medium-size. Kind of orange-ish like a dachshund, but she doesn’t look anything like a dachshund. She’s got floppy ears kind of like a beagle, and they keep yelling at her because she craps in the kitchen.” She let out a sigh of exasperation. “But you didn’t hear any of this from us, okay? Because I don’t want those guys mad. They get kind of crazy sometimes. You never know what they might do.”

“I would never divulge the names of those who make a complaint,” Andrea assured her. “Don’t worry, this will be handled in a timely manner. I will use complete discretion.”

“Well, okay,” Simone said. “As long as you don’t tell.”

“I won’t be telling,” Andrea said. “Trust me. It will be taken care of.”

If she was determined then, she was even more determined now. There was no way she was going to let this thing go. She usually tried to avoid conflict, but something about this guy really aggravated her and she didn’t want to wait until Stan was available. It occurred to her that the frat boys didn’t know what she looked like. If Stan couldn’t deliver the letter, she could do it herself. She’d say she was legally representing McGuire Properties. It gave the impression she was with a law firm without technically lying.

She finished out the rest of the workday before grabbing the letter and the keys for the Berkshire property and heading out the door. Doing this felt right, and the sooner the better. They would learn not to screw with McGuire Properties. Or Andrea Keller.

Twenty minutes later she’d arrived at the apartment building on Berkshire Drive. Parking in the university area was always difficult, so she didn’t even bother looking for a space on the street. Instead she pulled around to the small lot in back. This building was one of Tommy’s smaller rentals with only two apartments on each floor. The units were nearly identical except that the upstairs apartments had balconies with a picturesque view of the parking lot. Ironically, except for the frat boys, all of the tenants were college students. There were only six parking spaces in the back lot and Tommy charged extra for the honor of using one. None of them were assigned, so the tenants just pulled into any available spot. Today, three of the spaces were empty. Two, after Andrea parked her car in the space closest to the building.

As she walked up to the door, a small flurry of snow drifted downward. The first of the season. Maybe they’d have snow for Christmas after all. The back door was safety glass, the kind stores used, and it was locked for security reasons. The door opened into the downstairs hallway, a straight shot to the front door, also glass and also locked. From where she stood, she could see all the way to the front door and the street beyond. She held the key ring under the light fixture, trying to find the one for the back door, when she heard a scrabbling noise on the balcony to her left. The frat boys’ balcony, situated right above her parked car.

Andrea took a step back to look and blinked while her eyes adjusted to the dim light and the drifting snow. She held a hand over her eyes and could only make out a charcoal grill, the cover askew. The door that led to the balcony had a glass pane on the upper half and it was dark, like no one was home. She was about to turn back to her keys when she heard a small whimper. “Hello?” she called out, taking yet another step back into the parking lot. More scrabbling. Someone was on that balcony, but they weren’t sitting or standing or they’d be in view. No one would be lying outside in this cold if they could help it, so whoever it was had to have gone out on the balcony and then collapsed. But from what? The frat boys were too young for a heart attack. A drug overdose, maybe? Or else, drunk. That was more likely.

She took off her gloves and fumbled in her purse until she located a small flashlight. “Hello?” she called out, shining the spotlight upward. What she saw made her gasp. Two sad, dark eyes peered down at her. “Anni?” she said. “Is that you?” The dog whined in response. In the light of the flashlight beam she saw that the dog was chained to one of the balcony posts. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Who would leave a dog chained up outside in the cold?

Andrea snapped off the light and located the back door key. Once inside, she walked down the hallway, passing the doorways of the downstairs tenants. The frat boy had been right about the smell of weed coming from the lower apartment, not that she cared all that much. She passed the mailboxes embedded in the wall near the front door and turned to go up the stairs. Her heart pounded as she climbed the steps.

One of the stair treads was broken, the board actually missing, which could only mean that someone had removed it. Under normal circumstances, Andrea would have made a note to have Stan come out to fix it, but she was too angry for that. A broken stair was fine for animal abusers. Too good for them, actually. That poor dog. With her big sad eyes and beaten-down demeanor, the dog looked like one of the pets in the commercial to raise money for an animal rights group. Someone should chain the frat boys to the balcony out in the cold. Then they’d know how it felt.

Andrea rapped on the door three times, waited a few seconds, then pounded with the side of her fist. “Hello!” she shouted. “Anyone there?” No answer. She expected others in the building to come see what was going on, or at the very least, open their doors to listen, but there was no movement in the building as far as she could tell. She tried again, knocking and yelling, “Open up.” But still nothing.

Disappointed, she realized they must not be home. And just when she was ready to tell them off too. Andrea glanced down at the letter. The envelope looked official. She’d made sure of that. She could prop it up against the door or leave it in the mailbox, then contact the authorities to report an abused dog at this address. How long would it take for the crime to be investigated? Soon enough to get Anni out of the cold? It was after office hours: Would that make a difference? Probably, she decided, although she really didn’t know for sure. She looked down again and realized that right in her hand, along with the envelope, was a key ring holding a key for every apartment in the building, each of them labeled in Andrea’s own neat handwriting. Unit number four happened to be right on top. Without making a conscious decision, she inserted the key into the lock and turned it. When she heard a click, she turned the knob and the door swung open. A sign. If she really wasn’t meant to open the door, the frat boys would have installed a dead bolt, and she wouldn’t have been able to get in.

She flipped on the light switch and the living room came into view: sagging couch with a dark-green blanket draped across the top, a coffee table littered with beer cans and assorted snack bags, dirty linoleum floor covered with clothing and what looked like crushed potato chips. Yuck. And the place smelled too, like cigarette smoke and poop. Looking oddly out of place was a whopping big-screen TV, one of the largest Andrea had ever seen. “Hello?” she called out, closing the door behind her.

Being in someone’s apartment without permission felt all kinds of wrong—but it was exhilarating too. What was she doing here? With her back flat against the door, she felt her heart pounding. What would she say if one of them came out of the bedroom right now? She could run, and if they didn’t catch her, they’d have no way of tracing her. Unless they looked out the window and took down her license plate number.

Another possibility—telling them Mr. McGuire had told her to enter the premises to check on the unit. If she were lucky, they wouldn’t know this was illegal and they wouldn’t check with Tommy to confirm her story. They seemed like the kind of guys who wouldn’t know their rights. At least that’s what she hoped. People had a way of surprising her, and sometimes not in a good way.

Her best bet, she decided, was to not get caught.

She crossed through the living room and went into the small kitchen where the smell of feces was even stronger. Now that she had an explanation ready in case she got caught, she felt a little better, but she still moved quietly and quickly. She tucked the letter and key ring into her purse and went to the balcony door on the far wall of the room. The door had a hook-and-eye closure that wasn’t lined up perfectly, so it took a bit of tugging to free the hook. She turned on the outside light and stepped outside. The air was filled with swirling flakes of snow and the dog was covered with a layer of white.

“Anni?” Andrea knelt down next to her, and the dog shrank back, shaking. Poor little thing was either shivering from the cold or terrified. The dog’s red collar was attached to a short, bulky chain wrapped around a balcony spindle. Andrea followed the chain to where it was connected, relieved to see it had a simple thumb-push fastener rather than a lock. It only took a second for the chain to come free. “Come on, girl,” she crooned. “Time to get out of the cold.” She pulled gently on the chain and immediately regretted it. Anni cringed like she expected to be hit. “It’s okay, Anni. It’s okay.” She wished she had more experience with dogs. Was there some reassuring phrase that all dog owners knew? A secret code that would put Anni at ease? She was ill equipped for the situation, but doing the best she knew how. She ran a hand over Anni’s back and made what she hoped sounded like soothing noises. “You’re a good girl; yes, you are, Anni.” Anni’s ears perked up hopefully when she heard her name. Within a minute or so Andrea felt the dog’s body relax under her hand, and she knew what she was going to do. She was going to steal a dog.

Andrea disconnected the chain from the collar. It wasn’t the right kind of chain to be a dog leash, way too heavy and much too short. She stood up, patting her thighs. “Come on, girl,” she said, but Anni, even as her eyes pleaded, didn’t move. Andrea opened the door, and waved a hand toward the inside. “Let’s go!” She said the words with a faked enthusiasm. Although Anni lifted her head and looked longingly through the doorway, she didn’t get up. Andrea reached down and scooped the dog into her arms. Good grief, she was heavy for such a small dog, but at least she didn’t struggle. Andrea got the overpowering odor of wet dog; it was clear Anni needed a bath. She’d been afraid Anni would fight being carried, but the dog settled against her chest like she knew she was in good hands.

Andrea struggled through the balcony doorway, then closed the door with her back end, not bothering to latch it with the hook and eye. She crossed the room, shifting Anni’s body so that she could grab the knob. Once she was out in the hallway, she breathed a sigh of relief. She hadn’t left anything incriminating behind. They’d just be less one neglected dog—a dog they weren’t supposed to have in the first place. First, though, she had to get away from here. Far away from here.

As she made her way down the stairs with Anni in her arms, making sure to avoid the missing step, she prayed she wouldn’t run into any of the other tenants. The first rule of any crime: no witnesses. All she had to do was get to her car and she’d be home free. As she got to the bottom of the stairs, she got a whiff of marijuana mingled with the wet dog smell. So be it. Hopefully the stoner tenant would be too mellow to wonder who was coming down the stairs. She got to the bottom and Anni squirmed and made a sharp bark. Andrea shushed her, and Anni settled down as if she understood.

She passed the two doors leading into the downstairs apartments, one on either side of the hallway, and she was almost to the glass door when she saw the glare of headlights as a car pulled into the parking lot. She froze, watching as the frat boys got out of their car. One of them gestured up to their balcony, and she heard him yell, “
What the hell
?
” Oh no. She panicked as she remembered leaving the balcony light on. All instinct and fear, she whipped around to go out the front door, knowing that they were heading this way.