Mortictian Murders 01: To Dye For by Greta Boris

Author:Greta Boris [Boris, Greta]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-04-27T16:00:00+00:00

17

Nightmare on Elm St.

I left the apartment with a sinking heart. My desperation to move had blinded me to reality the night I’d toured it. I slogged up to Grace’s front door and knocked. She had to have the place cleaned or I wouldn't move in. It was the only leverage I could think of. If the place was a pit, they couldn’t expect me to take it. Could they?

The door opened, but instead of Grace standing there, it was a tall, skinny blond. A familiar tall, skinny blond. Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw me. “Aren’t you Norma Gene, Chad’s friend?” she said.

“Imogene,” I said. “And you’re McKenzie.” She was Chad’s new flame. The one I’d met at Neutron.

“What are you—” we both said at once. I let her have the floor.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

I held up the key chain. “I’m renting the studio.”

“Oh, Mom said she had a new tenant. I didn’t know it was you.”

Mom? Great. One more thing to add to no money, no stove, a disgusting refrigerator, a bathroom camouflaged for jungle combat, and a band of confused, wandering senior gypsies across the street—Chad’s girlfriend was my landlord’s daughter. “Small world,” I said.

We stood looking at each other for an awkward moment, then she reached for the key. “When do you move in?”

“That’s the thing,” I said. “I can’t move in until the place is cleaned.”

McKenzie’s eyebrows lifted, and her lips pursed. “Did you put down a deposit?”

“Yes, but—”

“I think the lease says you agree to take the place as is.”

“Maybe, but when I signed it, I hadn’t seen the inside of the refrigerator.”

McKenzie shrugged as if to say tough luck. “I’ll tell my parents.”

“Can I talk to Grace?”

“She’s not here.”

“How about your dad?”

“He’s not here, either.”

“Well, let them know, would you? Either the place is cleaned, or I’ll have to back out of the lease.”

“You won’t get your deposit back.”

There was no point in arguing with McKenzie. She wasn’t the decision maker. I nodded a goodbye and walked away. Her voice stopped me before I got to the street. “How’s your toe?”

How did she know about my toe? I turned. “Getting better, thanks. How did you know I’d injured it?”

“Chad told me.”

I must have looked confused, because she explained. “He told me you couldn’t dance in the contest because you hurt your toe. He was upset about it.”

“He was?”

“Yeah, but he’s over it. I’m his partner now.” She flashed me a smug smile. “He said he’d asked you first, for old times' sake and all that.”

“For old times' sake?” I parroted. Chad had never done anything for old times', new times', anything's, or anybody's sake but his own in his life. Chad did things for Chad.

“He said it was all for the best.” A hand fluttered to her mouth. “I mean, not that you got hurt or anything, but dancing with me instead.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I headed for my car. My cell rang as soon as I put on my seat belt.

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