Summer Storms (Seasons of Faith Book 1) Page 21

  “Orlando Police,” he called.

  Lizzie unlocked the door and pulled it open, making sure her hands were visible.

  “Ms. Reynolds?” The officer lowered his gun but didn’t holster it.

  “Yes, that’s me.”

  “I’m Officer Prentiss. We received a call about a prowler.” He looked around once more before holstering his gun.

  “There was a man here a few minutes ago, my neighbor must have seen him and called you.”

  “Can you give me a description?”

  “Of course, would you like to come inside?” She stepped back to allow Prentiss in. Once settled in the living room she told him about Ralph’s previous visit, all the questions he’d asked and how she’d awoken to his pounding on her door.

  “Did he provide any proof that he was related to your landlord?” Prentiss jotted notes in a small notebook.

  “No, he didn’t, and to be honest, there was just something creepy about him.” She shivered remembering they way his dark eyes had studied her and Mae.

  “I’ll take a look around outside and make sure he isn’t still in the area.” Officer Prentiss stood and pulled a card from his pocket. “Give us a call if you think of anything else or if he should come back.”

  “Thank you, officer.” Lizzie walked him to the door and waited on the porch for him to conduct his search.

  “He’s definitely gone now,” Prentiss advised. “You have a good evening, ma’am.” He touched his finger to his forehead in a salute and slipped back into the patrol car.

  CHAPTER FORTY FOUR

  Lizzie glanced up and down the street before running across to Mae’s house. The door opened as soon as she reached the top step. She darted through the open door, falling into Mae’s arms.

  “Thank you so much for calling the police,” Lizzie gasped.

  “Did they find that man?” Mae demanded.

  Lizzie shook her head. “But I did tell the officer about Mr. Anderson’s visit the other day. He said he’d look into it.”

  “When I saw him on your porch I was worried you’d open the door. I wanted to call, but I realized we have never exchanged phone numbers.” Mae’s motherly tone returned. She ushered Lizzie into the dining room and poured her a glass of iced tea from a large mason jar.

  “I might have if he hadn’t been pounding so hard.” She took a sip of tea. “This is delicious.”

  “Thank you, dear.” Mae set the jar back in the refrigerator before taking a seat. The women chatted about the storm, relieved to find that neither of them had suffered any damage.

  “I thought it would never end though,” Lizzie said.

  “Were you at work the whole time?”

  Lizzie nodded. “We almost ran out of food this morning. If it had lasted any longer, we might’ve had a riot on our hands. It was a good chance to train one of my new guys, though. He showed some real potential this weekend.”

  “That’s wonderful.”

  “You know how I was telling you I wanted to have a party to thank everyone for their help? I think I’m going to go ahead and do it now rather than waiting for the landscaping to be finished. I hope you and your sons will come.”

  “Of course I will, just tell me when.” Mae’s smile was warm and tender, reminding Lizzie of her own grandmother.

  “I’ll find out if everyone’s available next Saturday.” Lizzie thanked Mae before returning home.

  She locked the door behind her and pulled the curtains closed. Once she was sure the house was secure, she curled up on the couch with a pen and paper to start making plans for the party. She scrolled through her phone and selected a number.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Ian, it’s Lizzie.”

  “Hi,” his voice brightened, “did you get some rest?”

  “A few hours. I can’t remember if I thanked you for coming by earlier.” Her heart raced.

  “No thanks needed, I was happy to do it.” There was a moment of silence then they both spoke at the same time.

  “You first,” he insisted.

  “Well, I was wondering if you might be free next Saturday. I’m trying to plan a little get together, as a thank you for all the people who’ve helped me.” She babbled on unable to make the words stop falling from her mouth. “I just want everyone to have a chance to see how beautiful the house has turned out and show off the wonderful work you did with the floors.”

  “I’ll be there,” Ian cut in. “What time?”

  “Sixish.”

  “I’ve got it on my calendar.” Again, the silence fell between them.

  “Well, I should go. I’ve got a lot of calls to make.” She switched her phone to the opposite ear and rubbed her sweating palm on her pants.

  “Um…okay…see you then.” He sounded disappointed, making her hold onto the line another minute, waiting to see if he’d say anything else, but the phone went dead.

  She hung up and stared at the phone thoughtfully. What had he been planning to say? Why hadn’t he said it after her invitation? She considered calling him back but the phone rang with Emma’s ring tone.

  “I wanted to make sure you made it home.”

  “Sorry, I forgot to call you guys. I was so tired when I got home I fell right asleep. I didn’t get much rest at the hotel.” Lizzie gave her friend the highlights of the weekend and shared with her the plans for the party.

  “We’ll be there. I look forward to meeting your friends. Can I do anything to help with the planning?” Emma asked.

  “Maybe you can come over early and help me get things set up.”

  “Will do. I’ll make some of my spinach dip, too. I know how much you like that.”

  “Thanks, Emma. I’ll talk to you later.” Lizzie spent the next hour calling her friends, inviting them to the party, and swapping stories about the storm.

  “Is this Ian guy going to be at the party?” Stephanie asked.

  “He said he would, why?”

  “I want to meet the guy who has you talking like a schoolgirl.”

  “What?” Lizzie exclaimed. “He doesn’t make me do that.”

  Stephanie laughed. “Believe me he does, and that’s a good thing. You need a little love in your life.”

  “Whoa, slow the horses down, there’s no love going on. We’re just friends, and barely that.”

  “Uh huh, in that case, do you mind if I go out with him? He sounds like a dream.”

  “Stop it,” Lizzie shot back.

  “Alright, I’ll see you next weekend then.”

  CHAPTER FORTY FIVE

  The bungalow appeared unscathed when Jeffrey pulled into the driveway. He made a quick tour of the perimeter finding several palm fronds scattered around the yard, which he collected and lugged to the curb. Satisfied with his inspection, he went inside and tossed his keys on the coffee table. He took a quick shower, changed into gray dress pants and a bright blue shirt, and headed back out.

  He maneuvered through the traffic, arriving at work in fifteen minutes. Jenny’s car was the only one in the parking lot despite the fact it was almost one o’clock. He found Jenny at her desk, phone held to her ear. She waved at him and finished the call.

  “I wasn’t sure if you were coming in.” Jenny stood and carried a pile of papers to him.

  “Yeah, sorry about that. Looks like the rest of the crew is having some challenges getting here also.” He thumbed through the papers as he spoke.

  “A few have called, I told them to come in. They should be here soon. Maybe the rest thought they’d get the day off since the storm didn’t clear out till this morning.”

  “If anyone else calls tell them to stay home and we’ll start back tomorrow. I’m going to head out to check for damage, send the others to do the same. Once that is done we’ll call it a day.” Jeffrey donned his hard hat and headed out the door.

  Wally and three other guys were parking as he crossed the muddy lot. He gave them instructions to split into pairs and sweep through the building looking for any d
amage.

  Upon entering the first floor, Jeffrey gave his eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness before switching on his flashlight. He wandered through the maze of unfinished rooms, finding only food wrappers, aluminum cans, and other garbage that had blown in.

  He trudged up the stairs to the fourth floor and had to take a minute to catch his breath. He leaned against the cold cement wall. As his breathing quieted, he heard a sound, like a tin can rolling on the concrete floor. His back straightened and his gaze panned from left to right.

  His flashlight cast a narrow beam through the deep shadows making it hard to see very far. He took a cautious step toward the area the noise had come from, his senses straining for any indication of something out of place. Entering a small room, a foul odor assaulted him. He raised his arm over his nose and mouth and took another step forward. His foot hit something and he stumbled forward. He swung his light to the floor illuminating a dirty backpack.

  Jeffrey gave the bag a nudge with his toe and waved the flashlight around the small room, realizing he must be in a storage closet. There were several crumpled newspapers and food wrappers in the corner and he made his way toward these. He knelt and picked through the debris unsure what he was looking for.

  “Don’t touch that.” A man’s voice came from the darkness, tentative but demanding.

  Jeffrey spun around, the flashlight caught a shadow hunched in the doorway then flickered and died. I should have put in fresh batteries, he rebuked himself.

  “Where are you?” Jeffrey called into the darkness beyond the doorway. The only response was a soft swish of fabric as the man ran away. Jeffrey rushed toward the door, paused to peer into the hallway, and turned left hoping he was going the right way.

  “This is private property,” he called as he walked toward the outer edges of the building. A hacking cough reverberated on the concrete walls. Jeffrey stood, trying to pinpoint the source of the noise. He took a left at the next corridor and headed back to the center of the building. He tried to picture the blueprints, but without any point of reference, he was lost.

  Occasionally he crossed a hallway that extended all the way to the outside, allowing for a thin corridor of light. He paused in one of these halls trying to get his bearings. He could hear two of the guys from his crew laughing on the floor above.

  “I don’t want any trouble,” the man called.

  “Then come out and we can talk.” Jeffrey waited, turning in all directions. Ten feet ahead, he saw movement. His muscles tensed, prepared to strike if necessary.

  “I don’t want any trouble,” the man repeated as he emerged from the darkness into the corridor. Even in the limited light, Jeffrey could tell the man was filthy; he was unshaven and his hair was matted. The stench he had smelled in the storage closet returned as the man approached.

  “What are you doing here?” Jeffrey called.

  “I just wanted to get out of the storm.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Jeffrey caught a glance of flashlight beams but he didn’t dare turn away from this intruder. A moment later, he heard his name called.

  “I’m down here, guys,” he called to the crew.

  “I need my bag.” The man’s voice was desperate.

  “One of my guys can get it. Why don’t we go outside and talk?”

  “No, those are my things, they can’t touch them.” The man was growing agitated. Wally and another man came up behind the vagrant.

  “What you got here, boss?” Wally asked in surprise.

  “Wally, would you please go find this man’s bag. It’s in a storage closet somewhere back that way.” Jeffrey waved off in the direction he’d come from. “We’ll meet you outside.”

  “Sure thing.” Wally scooted past as Jeffrey and the two other men moved toward the stairwell. The remaining workers were waiting outside and reported they had found no damage on the upper floors.

  “Thanks, guys. You can take off. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Jeffrey dismissed the crew before turning his attention back to the visitor. “What’s your name?”

  The man shuffled, his eyes roving. “Samuel. Look, I didn’t mess with anything. I’ll just get my bag and be going.”

  “Calm down, Samuel.” Jeffrey was surprised by the sense of compassion and curiosity he felt. It was obvious the man was homeless, but he was well spoken, and more muscular than most of the vagrants Jeffrey saw around Lake Eola. His clothes, while worn and discolored, had once been expensive.

  “How did you end up here?” Jeffrey leaned against his truck still sizing up the man.

  “I got caught in the storm and couldn’t make it to the shelter. I didn’t think there’d be any harm in waiting inside, but it lasted longer than I expected.” Samuel coughed into his coat sleeve.

  “I don’t mean how’d you end up in the building, I mean why are you living on the streets?” Jeffrey caught Samuel’s gaze and saw him flinch. Wally came out of the building holding the backpack at arm’s length.

  “You don’t want to hear my story.” Samuel grabbed for his bag and tugged it onto his back.

  “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t,” Jeffrey said.

  Samuel shrugged. “My wife got cancer a few years ago. I had to take a lot of time off work to care for her and ended up getting fired. Without insurance, the medical bills piled up. A couple of months after she died I lost the house, and haven’t been able to get another job.”

  “I think it’s illegal to fire someone for that, there’s family medical leave you can take. Did you try to fight it?”

  “What was I going to fight with? I couldn’t afford a lawyer.” Samuel gave a tired sigh.

  “What kind of work do you do?”

  “I was an electrician.”

  “Do you have any references?”

  “You aren’t going to hire me so why don’t you just let me go?” Samuel turned to leave.

  “I don’t know why, but I want to give you a chance to get back on your feet. If you can provide me with some references I might be able to help you get a job.” Jeffrey was frustrated by the man’s stubbornness.

  Samuel eyed Jeffrey then flicked his gaze to Wally who stood a few feet off. “Is this guy for real?” Samuel asked.

  “Most of the time,” Wally replied with a lopsided grin.

  “You don’t have to decide right now. Think about it and come back later in the week if you want.” Jeffrey extended a hand to Samuel. “I’m usually here from eight to five.”

  Samuel stared at the outstretched hand then slowly raised his own and offered a firm handshake. “I’ll think about it.”

  CHAPTER FORTY SIX

  Lizzie spent the remainder of the week preparing for her party. Her evenings filled with unpacking boxes, locating serving trays and wine glasses, burning mix cds, and planning the menu. At work, she found herself delegating more tasks to Stephen and was impressed with how quickly he was learning to read the guests.

  “Mrs. Henderson is checking in this afternoon, think you can handle it?” Lizzie asked as she went over the day’s arrivals with Stephen. She saw a look of panic flash in his eyes. She waited and watched him take a deep breath before responding.

  “I can do it,” he said.

  “Good, here is her file. Get familiar with it, review the reservations we have made and be prepared to go over them with her. She will push you and try to trip you up. She’s like a kid testing its boundaries. Remain calm and pleasant but firm and she will respect you. I need to go check on things in the concierge lounge, want to tag along?”

  “You think Jonathan will mind?” Stephen gave a nervous glance toward the manager’s office.

  “He knows you’re training with me.” Lizzie stood and slipped on her blazer.

  They rode the elevator to the sixth floor in silence. When they reached the concierge lounge Lizzie greeted the handful of guests still lingering over coffee and pastries. She cleaned up some crumbs on the counter and made sure the beverage carafes were all full, explaining the upkeep proced
ures as she went. Stephen scribbled in a notebook he’d taken to carrying with him.

  “You’re coming to my party right?” Lizzie asked on the way back to the office.

  “Of course. Haven’t you taught me to network every chance I get?” Stephen grinned.

  “That’s my boy,” she crowed with delight. They returned to the desk and spent the rest of the morning preparing itineraries for guests arriving over the weekend. At three forty-five, an instant message from the front desk appeared on her screen advising her that Elaine Henderson was at the desk.

  “You ready for this?” Lizzie asked.

  Stephen stood, puffed his chest out, nodded, and marched through the door to the desk area with confidence. Lizzie slipped out the side door and hid behind a Ficus tree to oversee the transaction.

  “Oh no, not you,” Elaine cried when Stephen stepped up to the counter.

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Henderson, it’s a pleasure to see you again.” He gave her a warm smile.

  “Where’s Elizabeth? I want to see her right now.”

  “I’m so sorry, but she’s not available. I’m happy to assist you.” Stephen produced a sheet of paper with a flourish and placed in on the desk. “As you can see I already have your itinerary. Maybe you would like to go to the concierge lounge and have a glass of wine while we review everything.” His smile never slipped but his voice grew more determined. Lizzie could tell by the motion of his arms that Stephen’s fingers were flying over the keyboard completing the check-in process as he spoke.

  “Will you be using your regular credit card?” He asked before hitting the final key to complete the transaction.

  Elaine stared at him, her mouth hanging open. Stephen drew his smile broader and waited. She hoisted her purse onto the marble desk, dug through her wallet, and slid a black American Express card toward him.