Fear Thy Neighbor (51)
It was close to six, probably too late for the power company; too late for Kimberly, as well. It really didn’t matter now, she told herself. All that mattered was Renée and her safety. Debating whether to call Valentina to see if she had any news, she decided against it in case she had an incoming call. Patience was something she had an abundance of, but she felt restless, fearful. There was something about Renée that had touched a part of her that she’d never known existed—true, heartfelt emotions. If she felt this way about someone she barely knew, she couldn’t begin to imagine what Valentina was feeling right now. If she had children, she wouldn’t let them out of her sight. From experience, as Kit had intimated, she knew what could happen to young girls. Could she bring a child into the world knowing their future could be in constant jeopardy? Maybe she wasn’t cut out for the mom stuff, but she cared about Renée and her mother a lot. Was it because they were the first people she’d met that treated her kindly? They didn’t treat her like she was worthless. If they knew her past, would it change either of their opinions of her? She didn’t think so, because they were good people. So far.
And Kit? Besides being a reporter searching for his next big story, would he think less of her if he knew her past? It didn’t matter. At least not yet—maybe she’d tell him more once he solved his mystery. He’d return to Miami and forget he ever met her, unless she was truly a part of his investigation. Then he’d move on to the next big story. Her thoughts raced. She knew it was nervous energy, as she’d felt it many times before, after her many escapes from the broken homes she’d been forced to live in. She glanced at her cell phone to see if she’d missed a call. No one had actually called her number before, so she was clueless to the ringtone. She didn’t see a missed call.
Antsy to the point of pulling her hair out, she got off the stool and went to the deck. She could see her yellow cottage. Apparently, the power company had been there, and Kit had turned the kitchen light on. Deep in thought, all she cared about at the moment was locating Renée, praying she was safe.
From her view, she watched the sun make its slow descension, noting the pale yet striking palette of colors streaking across the blue sky. Pink and violet—some deeper, others a pale pastel—blended into so many shades, Ali felt like she’d stepped into a painting, a masterpiece. Amazed, she walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, gazing out at the beauty marking the end of the day. She almost had to pinch herself when she realized she could now see this any day she wanted. Taking her cell from her pocket, she noted the time. It was almost eight o’clock; she’d been waiting well over two hours, with no news of Renée and nothing from Kit, though she saw her lights were still on when she stepped out onto the deck. The cooler evening air emitted a briny scent, reminding her of seaweed. While it wasn’t a horrible smell, it wasn’t exactly pleasant. Could have something to do with the tides, she thought.
As she returned to her perch on the stool, hunger pains gnawed her stomach, reminding her she hadn’t eaten all day. With no word from Valentina, and the dinner they’d planned now out of the question, she peered inside the refrigerator again, searching for something to eat. Taking an apple from the produce drawer, she walked across the room to the dining area. The view was just as spectacular from this angle. Munching on her apple, gazing out at the view, she jumped when she heard a knock on the door.
Kit.
“Any news?” he asked once he was inside the house.
“Nothing. No calls. I’m beyond worried,” she said. “I saw the power is turned on at my place. I hope I didn’t inconvenience you.”
“Your real estate agent didn’t show,” Kit said. “You can have these back.” He placed her keys on the kitchen counter by the phone. “And it wasn’t an inconvenience.”
“I’ll call her tomorrow. Were you able to find whatever it is you’re searching for on my property?” Ali loved the sound of those words: my property.
“I’m afraid I didn’t have enough time, or light, but the smell is still lingering,” he told her. “Are you sure you removed all the fish?”
“Of course. The smell is still bad?”
“It is, probably because the place is closed up. Once you open the windows and let some fresh air inside, it’ll go away.”
“I’ll do that tomorrow.”
Kit leaned against the counter, his eyes scanning the room, stopping on the refrigerator. “You hungry?” he asked.
“Yeah, I just finished an apple. You want one? I’m sure Valentina won’t care.” She’d offer to make him a sandwich, but she wasn’t one-hundred percent comfortable even taking the apple she’d had. Having been on her own for so long, she didn’t have the best social skills.
Grinning, he said, “I can order a pizza if you’ll share it with me.”
Would that count as a dinner date under these circumstances? She didn’t dare voice this thought, but a pizza would be good no matter what. “Sure, but only if you let me pay half,” she said, just to see if he’d insist on picking up the tab. If so, this would be her first real dinner date—ever. With the few men she’d dated, if you could even call them dates, she’d always paid for her own dinner.
“Nope, I refuse. What do you like on yours?” he asked as he scrolled through his smartphone, one of the latest models. She only knew this because last night, when she’d been watching a movie, the same phone was being advertised as the most current of its kind on the market.