Page 92 of Rastor

She cupped her hands around her mouth and hollered toward the interior of the house. "Chucky! C'mon! We're leaving!"

"What?" I reached for her hand. "Why?"

She slapped my hand away. "Don't touch me."

"Why not?"

"Because, you idiot, I'm not ahooker." She spoke very slowly and clearly, enunciating every word. "I'm ahouse-sitter!"

Chapter 45

Her words echoed in the silent space. I stood, utterly still, wondering if I'd heard her right. The house-sitter?

I shook my head. "What?"

"Oh yeah." She made a sound that might've been a laugh, except there was no trace of humor in it. "Big difference there, huh?" She turned away and called out again, "Chucky, where are you?"

For a long moment, I couldn’t move. My thoughts were coming too hard and too fast. What about the guy this morning? What about the douchebag? What about the house? I couldn't be wrong.

But – a sick feeling settled in my stomach – what if I was?

Fuck.

Chloe turned and stalked toward the kitchen.

With growing panic, I followed after her. "Chloe." When she ignored me, I reached for her elbow. "Baby…"

She shook off my hand and whirled to face me. "I already told you, stay away from me!"

The look in her eyes sliced through my heart. But Ihadto know. "So those guys–"

"Who?" she said. "The property manager who stopped by this morning?"

I swallowed. "Property manager?"

"Or maybe," Chloe continued, "you meant the financial guy?"

"Financial guy?"

The douchebag – wasthatwho she meant? I recalled something he'd told me earlier."I'm just the guy who pays the light bill."Shit. In a twisted way, it made sense.

"Yeah," Chloe said. "The guy on the porch." She gave me a cold smile. "And just so you know, when I say financial guy, I mean someone who manages the home-owner's accounts, not for example, some fucking pimp!"

I felt the color drain from my face. Iknewwhat I knew. The guyhadoffered me girls for money. But he hadn't offered me Chloe, had he? In fact, he'd flat-out denied knowing her. Was today the first time she'd actually seen the guy? The way it sounded, it was.

As for the rest of it, it made no sense. Turns out, I didn't know as much as I thought I did. But I knew enough to realize I was in some very deep shit. I heard myself ask, "And the call last night?"

"It was just what I said. And in case you're wondering, she's a woman. And she called me last night because their accounts are all screwed up, which, in case it hasn't escaped your attention, is a whole lot different than screwing for money!"

Accounts screwed up? That would explain the cash, wouldn’t it? Houses in this neighborhood weren't cheap to maintain. Hell, my own landscaping service cost more than any waitress made in a month.

Had Chloe been fronting those bills?

I was finding it hard to think. "So she's the home-owner?" I said.

"Renter, owner, hell, at this point, I have no idea. But she definitely lives there." Chloe crossed her arms. "Except, I guess, when she's off in Costa Rica with her husband."

I shook my head. "But the guy who lives in that house, he's not married."