Fear Thy Neighbor (39)
Alison Marshall was not going to give up her dream for some idiotic, rotten, smelly taxi-driving druggie. Too many times she’d given in; too many times she’d been too frightened to stand up for herself. She was no longer that seventeen-year-old girl who’d struggled her entire life in the hopes of having a home of her own, a life, and maybe, one day she’d meet a nice fellow and have a family. Were her dreams over the top? No, she thought. They were simply what every decent human being desired. It wasn’t as though she expected life to run smoothly all of the time. Thoughts and hopes like these weren’t unreasonable.
Back and forth, she debated with herself. When she glanced at the clock on the dash, she realized her appointment with Kimberly was in thirty minutes.
Men like Tank and John were a dime a dozen. Beach houses were hundreds of thousands, even millions, of dollars. She could handle men like those two idiots. She’d done it before.
Alison would regret having an opportunity like this and passing it up it for the rest of her life. She directed the Jeep to Diamond Realty, where she would seal the deal on her dream.
Chapter Nine
Three hours later, Ali had purchased her first home. The necessary paperwork was completed, minus the deed that would be filed with the county clerk. Ali’s eyes filled with tears when Kimberly gave her a bill of sale for the cottage. Having no idea what to expect, she’d found the process was simple, especially when you had the financial means to simply write a check.
Even if the sheriff’s department was still searching her property, Ali assumed she would still be able to go inside the cottage. She would need all sorts of furnishings. Excited at the prospect of decorating her place any way she pleased, she had a dozen ideas, but nothing set in stone.
She drove down Pine Tree Road, taking a right and then a left on Loblolly Way, which was now her new address. Odd, she thought, since the overgrown drive faced Dolphin Drive, where she saw a mailbox that’d seen better days. But Kimberly had informed her this was not the case, and that the house was technically on Loblolly Way. Alison didn’t care one way or another. She had a beach house, and right now she wasn’t going to allow anyone or anything to diminish the pride and accomplishment she was feeling.
Grateful the bridge was open so she didn’t have to wait, she headed to her new home. There was hardly any traffic. Ali figured most people on the island were working, and tourists were minimal this time of year, so there was no one on the bridge fishing like when she’d arrived. Once she made the turn, she parked in the public lot, knowing she wouldn’t have to do this much longer. She would call Gib, maybe ask him to show her how to use the equipment, or maybe she’d hire Hal to help out—though Ali had to remind herself not to spend her money needlessly. She would do as much of the work herself as she could in order to keep her expenses as low as possible.
She locked the paperwork in the glove compartment of the Jeep, then made the short walk to her new home. She was so excited that chills went up and down her spine. She wondered if the Beamers, or the Sterlings, or the other foster family whose name she couldn’t even remember, had ever thought she would accomplish anything in her life, much less pay cash for her very first home. It didn’t matter, she thought as she walked down the path to her house. Most likely, she was nothing but a distant memory to them, if even that, and this was fine with her.
With shaking hands, Ali used the code Kimberly had given her to unlock the key box so she could use the house keys. Kimberly had said she would pick up the key box later that evening. Pushing the door aside, Ali wished for a photo to document this milestone, but the cell she’d purchased didn’t have a camera. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, relishing the scent of the golden knotty pine, the salty air, even the stale odor of whatever had been in the freezer. This was all hers, and no one could ever force her to leave her home again.
Ali closed the door behind her, locking it, even though she felt pretty confident no one would barge in and attack her. Then she remembered the bones. How could she forget what she’d found yesterday? Who did the bones belong to? Ali would do her best to find out, but not now.
Focusing on the present, she walked through the rooms again, imagining how she would decorate them. She went to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, the smell forcing her to take a step back. It occurred to her she hadn’t bothered to have the power turned on.
“Crud,” she said. Apparently, Kimberly thought she’d taken care of this, or purposely didn’t tell her. She wasn’t sure how one went about this on the island. Ali had the number to Valentina’s store on her receipt, so she dialed, hoping she wouldn’t interrupt her if she were giving a reading or with a customer.
Valentina answered on the first ring. “Souvenir Shop.”
“Hi, it’s Alison—Ali. I hope I’m not interrupting anything. I need to have the power turned on at the cottage, and I’m clueless.”
“Congratulations! Of course you need power,” Valentina said. “Palm County Cooperative is in Fort Charlotte. I can’t believe your real estate agent didn’t give you the info.”
“Honestly, I think she assumed I knew. It’s my fault, as I was so excited when I left her office,” she admitted.
“We haven’t had one single customer today. If you’d like some company, I could go with you,” Valentina offered.