The Fall of Jake Hennessey by P. J. MacLayne

Author:P. J. MacLayne
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: P. J. MacLayne
Published: 2022-03-17T18:07:18+00:00

Chapter Twelve

After lunch, Jake and Harmony met up with Sarah to tour the old house. On the trip over from the real estate office, Jake reviewed what he’d learned from the TV shows about ‘flipping’ houses while half-listening to Sarah and Harmony chatter about people he’d never met. And didn’t plan to.

The house looked as dilapidated as the first time he’d spotted it. Until he saw the inside, he wouldn’t know how much potential it held. He wasn’t holding his breath.

But just like Harmony, the house fascinated him. He’d talked himself into believing he could pull off this farce and make a profit. Or he’d move in, make the house the base of his operations, and talk Harmony into sharing it with him. But that wouldn’t work. Too many town gossips keeping track of his comings and goings, and too much of a risk that Harmony would catch one of his many lies.

As Sarah unlocked the front door, he memorized the code she entered to release the box the realty company used to secure the door. How many other houses did it open?

“Ladies first,” he said with a slight bow, holding the door open.

Harmony stepped inside. “Oh, dear. Sarah, you said the owners lived here?”

“They did,” Sarah answered, following her. “They were renovating in their spare time. Why?”

Jake steeled himself for disappointment.

One wall in the front room was stripped down to the studs. Plaster torn off the wall lay in piles and half-empty boxes of nails, a stack of sheetrock, and other building supplies littered the room. At least the floor they stood on appeared to be solid, even if it was crisscrossed with dusty footprints.

“Oh dear is right, although I would have used other words. Well, they’ve made it easy to update the wiring,” he said. “Let’s check out the rest of the place.”

He went first, having been in his share of old houses. Not legally, but he’d spent many nights in decaying homes when he had no money and nowhere else to get out of the weather, killing time by learning the art of picking locks from older teenagers. This house was in better condition than some of those. No graffiti decorated what remained of the walls, no drug paraphernalia lay scattered on the wooden floor, and he didn’t spot any traces of fires being set to provide warmth for temporary inhabitants.

“How large is Oak Grove’s homeless population?” he asked, pausing at the doorway to what may have been the parlor. The room was cluttered with broken furniture and other garbage.

“It varies by the season,” Sarah said. “We have a few, but nothing like Pittsburgh. Why? Is there a problem?”

“Not that I’ve seen so far. But you might want to get a contractor to haul away this stuff.”

Harmony peered over his shoulder. “Looks like someone had big dreams of being able to fix this and then gave up.”

Jake hoped the rest of the house wasn’t in the same condition. “At least they didn’t tear down the walls in here.

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