When Darkness Falls (4 page)

“You have a lovely place,” Chloe said.

“Thanks.”

“Did you do the decorating yourself?”

“Who me? Not hardly. I got Brooks Design Center to help me.”

“Oh, they did a nice job.”

“Well, they should have for what it cost. I thought I was going to have to take out a second mortgage just to redo my kitchen. A good friend of mine, Lucille Wilson, talked me into using them. But word to the wise, keep your checkbook handy! Once you let those greedy designers in your house, it’s all over from there. They’re sharks on the lookout for fresh meat. I don’t see how those people can sleep at night, charging a fortune for every little thing. Look at that print over there on the wall. I paid a fortune for it and then saw one almost just like it at Walmart the other day for a fourth of the price.” Lila went on for another five minutes until Darbie interrupted her.

“Chloe’s an interior designer.”

Lila stopped. “Really?”

“Yes.” Chloe could’ve strangled Darbie who was standing there all doe-eyed. Was she trying to get Chloe thrown out of the woman’s house?

“What type of work do you do?” Lila asked.

“Residential mostly.” Chloe took a deep breath and decided to forge ahead. “I’m interviewing for a job at Marsh Interiors on Monday.”

A strange look came over Lila’s face, and she went a little pale. “That’s very interesting,” she finally said. “What do you know about them?”

“Not a lot,” Chloe admitted as a trickle of unease ran down her spine. “Why?”

“Oh, nothing. I was just wondering.” She gave Chloe a strained smile before turning her attention to the dinner she was preparing.

What was wrong with Marsh Interiors? What was Lila not telling her? Her stomach knotted. Her mother had found the advertisement for the job online and insisted that Chloe apply for it. “I have a good feeling about this one,” she said. At first, Chloe was doubtful that anything would come of it, but to appease her mom, she applied. Then, she got a call, requesting her to come for an interview. This job opportunity had been the one bright spot in her sordid life, and now it was being tainted like everything else. She just couldn’t seem to get a break. She felt something and realized that Lila had touched her arm. Unfortunately, Chloe had never been able to mask her feelings. Everything she felt blasted like a neon sign to the world.

“I didn’t mean to upset you. Marsh Interiors does a great business in The Valley, and I’m sure you’ll enjoy working there. My qualm with them has nothing to do with their design services but is more of a personal nature.”

“Okay,” Chloe said slowly. The words were meant to ease her fears. Unfortunately, they didn’t.

Lila wiped her hands on a dishtowel. “I tell you what—I’m planning on getting new curtains for my living room in the next couple of months. Can you handle that for me?”

“Well … sure … if I get the job.”

“Of course, that’s what I meant.”

Could this conversation get anymore awkward? Chloe tried to diffuse the situation by talking about the one thing she knew best—design. “What type of window treatments are you wanting?”

Lila seemed to relax at that. “Oh, I don’t know. I keep telling Pete that the room’s too blah. You know, the trend is to do mostly white with pops of color. We need something to liven it up.”

“I’ll design something that you and your husband will both like.”

Lila frowned. “Why would you do that?”

“I just thought …”

“Pete doesn’t have anything to do with this. It’s none of his business what I spend on my design services.”

“Oh … okay.” There seemed to be no winning with this woman.

“Enough about that.” She handed Chloe four plates. “I could use some help setting the table.”

“Of course, I’ll be glad to help.” She took the plates from Lila and looked at Darbie who shrugged and walked off.

“Hey, one of you princesses get in here and put ice in the glasses,” Lila yelled.

Darbie moaned, and Susan reluctantly got up off the couch. Chloe was surprised at how quickly they’d come in and made themselves at home. Undoubtedly, they’d been here many times before.

When they were seated at the table, Lila looked around. Her eyes stopped on Chloe. “Would you ask a blessing on the food?”

The request broadsided Chloe as a look of horror came over her face. She knew that everyone had seen it, hence the awkward silence that settled in the room.

“Go ahead,” Lila said, her voice encouraging.

Seeing no other alternative, Chloe bowed her head and mumbled her way through the prayer.

“Amen,” Lila said heartily when it was finished.

“Look at all of this food,” Susan said, “it looks delicious.”

Susan was right. The food did look delicious. There was pot roast, mashed potatoes and gravy, green beans, fruit salad, and dinner rolls. Chloe was suddenly ravenous. She scooped a generous portion of mashed potatoes and gravy onto her plate. Were it not for the fact that Lila had mentioned her weight earlier, she probably would’ve gotten more. She didn’t consider herself fat, but she’d never been super skinny like Darbie either. Dan had called her
shapely
.

“You must have cooked everything in the refrigerator, Lila,” Susan said.

“Pete says I cook enough for the whole countryside. That’s why we’ll always be as poor as church mice,” he says.

That and those design fees Lila didn’t tell him about, Chloe thought.

Susan took a big bite of mashed potatoes. “Speaking of Pete, where is he?”

“He went to Las Vegas for a jewelry exhibit, but he’ll be back in time for the weekend.”

Chloe noticed that a look passed between Susan and Darbie. What was it with these two and their silent communication?

“What does Pete do for a living?” Chloe asked breaking off a piece of her roll.

“He’s a buyer for most of the jewelry stores in this area.”

“Speaking of jewelry,” Darbie said, spearing a green bean and shoving it in her mouth. “Today in my Psychology of Criminal Behavior Class, we were discussing that jewel theft that took place in Park City a few months ago.”

“Oh, yeah, I remember that,” Lila said, “Pete was talking about it. The unsolved Park City theft.” She looked at Darbie. “What were the particulars?”

“A Dr. Clifton and his wife went out to dinner with friends. They returned home, only to find that her diamond necklace, earrings, and an emerald bracelet were stolen from their safe. The diamonds themselves were worth over fifteen grand.”

Lila made a tsking sound with her tongue. “Anyone foolish enough to keep jewelry worth that much in his or her home is asking for trouble.”

“Well, that’s just the thing,” Darbie said, excitement coating her voice. “My professor was saying that the investigators learned that Mrs. Clifton normally kept the jewels in a safety deposit box, but she and the doctor had attended a charity function the night before, and she’d not had a chance to return them to the bank.”

“So the thief knew a little something about the couple,” Susan said.

Darbie nodded. “And get this, there were no signs of a forced entry. Even after all of these months, the police are trying to figure out how the perps got in.”

“Perps?” Chloe was confused.

“Perpetrators,” Darbie explained. “That’s what we call criminals in the law enforcement world.”

“Oh.” Chloe felt her cheeks go warm. Darbie had answered her so matter-of-factly that Chloe felt ignorant. Everyone else at the table obviously knew what she was talking about.

“My professor’s contact on the force told him that from the looks of this job, it has all the trappings of being a Ghost Theft.”

“Ooh!” Susan shivered with delight. “Really?”

Darbie’s eyes danced. “I know. Can you believe it?”

Chloe was dying to know what they meant by
Ghost Theft
, although she didn’t dare ask. Luckily, she didn’t have to because Lila saw her bewildered expression. “You might want to explain to Chloe about the Ghost Thief.”

“He’s one of the most elusive jewel thieves in the country,” Darbie said.

Lila nodded. “Pete’s always carrying on about The Ghost. In the world of jewels, he’s as dreaded as Alan Golder. A real rogue who leaves no trace.” She chuckled. “Of course, that’s just speculation. No one really knows who he
or she
is.”

“Or if it’s one thief or a whole team,” Darbie added.

Susan thought for a minute. “Alan Golder? Never heard of him.”

The startled looks on Darbie and Lila’s faces were almost comical. “What?” they belted out.

“Alan Golder was the best of the best,” Lila said

“Until he got caught,” Darbie inserted.

Lila waved the comment away. “I thought everybody had heard of Alan Golder. He was quite the ladies man. Charming, sophisticated. He would go to all of the top parties and case out the goods, right there while he was wining and dining with the best of them—usually with a lady or two on his arm. I believe he even stole from Johnny Carson. He was known as the
Dinner-time Bandit
because he could rob you blind while you were sitting at the table. I heard that he once ripped a diamond ring right off a screaming woman’s finger, while she was standing in her living room … or was she in the bedroom?” She shrugged. “I can’t remember … anyway …”

From the way she clucked on another five minutes about the man, Chloe would’ve thought he was a celebrity rather than a criminal or
perp
. Her mind started wandering about two minutes into the monologue.

Chloe had already cleared three-fourths of her plate when she looked at Darbie. Her plate looked as full as it had been a moment ago. No wonder she was so skinny. She barely ate anything.

Chloe was totally exhausted by the time they returned home from Lila’s house. Her clothes were still in the suitcases, but there would be time to tackle that tomorrow. She took stock of her room with the two large windows, spanning the back wall. The closet was a perk she’d not expected, as it was quite large considering the time period of the house. She’d considered putting Beasty’s litter box in the bathroom but decided against it. Darbie wouldn’t want to have to deal with it. Instead, she placed it in the back corner of her bedroom. She put his basket and cushion in the opposite corner. With Beasty settled, she crawled into bed and lay there for a few seconds looking up at the ceiling. After six months of turmoil, she’d finally made the move, despite all of the uncertainty. Her mind went back to the strange conversation she had with Lila about Marsh Interiors. Lila seemed a little off, so it was probably nothing. At any rate, she needed a job, so she would have to make do with what she was offered. A few minutes later, she drifted off into a sound sleep and didn’t awake until morning.

Unfortunately, the next night didn’t go so well. The nights were always the hardest because she was afraid she would dream about Dan. This time, she’d been asleep for about an hour before she felt the thud that was jarring her like a second heartbeat. At first she thought she was dreaming, but then she opened her eyes and saw the blaring lights. She got up and walked over to the window. Lila’s yard was lit up like Times Square, and there were people all over the place. The thud she was hearing was the bass from the music.

She went back to bed and buried her ears in her pillow. A minute later, Beasty jumped on her head. She tried to push him off but got tangled in her covers in the process.

“That’s it!” She threw on her robe and marched down the hall to Darbie’s room. She pounded on the door. “Darbie!”

No answer. She pounded again.

“What?” came the groggy response.

She threw open the door. “Something’s going on at Lila’s house. My room is blinding, and it sounds like a rock band is camped outside my window.”

Darbie sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes, sleep coating her voice. “You’ll get used to it. It’s the Farnsworths. They do this every Friday and Saturday night.”

“You’re kidding, right? Are Lila and her husband crazy?”

“Well, yeah. What can I say? You met her.” Darbie yawned. “They’ve been doing this ever since I’ve been here. People used to call the police, but after a while, the police stopped coming. Now we all just put a pillow over our heads to drown out the noise and go back to sleep.”

Chloe shook her head, unsatisfied with the explanation. “Well, you have connections with the police department. Can’t you do something?”

Darbie blew out a breath. “I’m a student at Salt Lake Community College—hoping to get into the Academy next spring.”

“Why didn’t your mother tell my mom about this? How am I supposed to get any rest?”

Darbie let out an impatient sigh. “It must’ve slipped her mind.”

“I don’t understand how Lila and her husband can be so inconsiderate of their neighbors.”

“They don’t see it that way. They walk to the beat of their own drum. Lila and Pete have a background in theatre. They traveled around the world until their money ran out and then came to Salt Lake. Pete went into the jewelry business. Both of them love socializing, so every weekend they invite their friends, and that’s what they do. Any more questions?”

“No.” Chloe bit her bottom lip. That explained the strange looks that kept passing between Darbie and Susan. They knew exactly what was going to happen when Pete returned from Las Vegas.

Chloe turned and stomped back to her room. “Now I know why I got the big bedroom!” she said loud enough for Darbie to hear. She got back into bed and pulled the comforter over her head. Susan’s silly landlord rules rang in her ears. “No loud music? Hah!”

M
onday came
around all too soon. The alarm clock went off at 6:00 a.m., but Chloe kept hitting the snooze button and didn’t get up until 7:00—big mistake. Her interview was at 8:00. When the topic of moving to Salt Lake City first came up, Chloe started searching for jobs. She never expected to find a job opening in her field, much less to have an interview so soon. It was an exciting prospect, and she needed a win because thus far, her professional career had been a total disaster. If she missed this interview, she might not get another chance at an interior design firm. She’d have to either take a menial job, doing something she hated, or go back to South Carolina and face her parents. The thought conjured up feelings she didn’t want to deal with right now.

An unbidden image of Dan flashed through her mind, and she squelched it. She ran into the bathroom and brushed her teeth. A once-over in the mirror told her that she could go another day without washing her hair. That would save at least thirty minutes. Had she been back home, she never would’ve been able to go this long without washing her hair because of the humidity. But here, it was drier. Her hair had never looked so good. Too bad she couldn’t say the same about her skin. She felt like a prune! Her nose was so dry that she wanted to stick a tube of chapstick up her nostrils and rub it around a few hundred times.

She hurriedly got dressed and looked at the clock. It was now 7:40. She’d made a point of looking up the location of the design firm over the weekend. Thankfully, it was only about seven miles away. With any luck, she might just make it on time. If she could only find her keys! She searched her purse again and then her room. In a near panic, she rushed to the kitchen to look there. Had she left them on the counter? That’s when she saw the note. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she could hardly believe what she was reading. Darbie had taken her car.

Last night, Darbie said her car was on the fritz and asked if she could borrow Chloe’s Honda Fit. Not wanting to be rude, Chloe had given her a vague, “Yeah, that would probably be okay … sometime.” She certainly hadn’t meant today! Darbie heard her tell Lila about the interview. How could she do this? Chloe looked wildly around, hoping that Darbie’s number was written on something. It wasn’t. She’d not even thought to plug Darbie’s number into her phone.
Think, Chloe, think!
She looked at the clock on the microwave—7:48. Even if by some miracle she could somehow find Darbie’s number, she would never get the car back in time to make it to the interview. Not knowing what else to do, she called the design center, telling the woman who answered that she would be a few minutes late as a result of car trouble, and then she called a cab.

Twenty minutes later, she was headed to her interview. Chloe leaned back in the seat and looked out at the drizzling rain that was a rarity for Salt Lake (according to her mother). She tried not to think about how much she needed this job. A month after Dan’s death, she’d taken a job as a receptionist and bookkeeper at a beauty salon. She suffered through it for about a month before calling it quits after messing up the shop’s books and getting into a verbal fight with the manager. When she told her mom about what happened, she hugged Chloe and laughed. “What in the world made you think you could keep books? You’re terrible at math and you’ve never been able to balance your own checkbook, much less one for a business.”

Her next job was at a paint store where she worked as a color consultant. Chloe had been excited about this one because it gave her the opportunity to use her skills. A Mrs. Jones came in one day and explained that she was painting her kitchen and breakfast room and wanted something bright yet tasteful. Chloe had questioned the woman about her lighting and finally recommended Anjou Pear, a rich golden color.

A couple of weeks later, Mrs. Jones came back to the store, ranting and raving. “You told me that color was Anjou Pear, but several people have since told me that it looks like split pea soup splattered over the walls.”

Chloe was mortified. “I asked about your lighting, and you said it was artificial.”

“It is most of the time, except for when the afternoon sun shines through the windows. That’s when the paint look that awful green!”

Chloe thought for sure that Mr. Welch, the owner of the store, would side with her, but he was outraged. “This is your fault. Trinity Jones has been our client for forty years. You should have asked more questions, and then you’d have known she had that harsh, afternoon sunlight.” Mr. Welch had the audacity to deduct the cost of the paint from her paycheck.

Chloe’s thoughts returned to the present. Her mom kept telling her that she really felt good about this job opportunity. “I know this may sound strange, but I feel like working at this place will help you find the answers to your questions.”

At first, Chloe had chalked her mom’s words up to wishful thinking
.
But as time wore on, she began to secretly hope she was right. The job came to represent a new hope for the future—a chance to focus on something other than her problems.

The cab came to halt. Chloe leaned forward in her seat. “Why are we stopping?”

“Looks like there’s been a fender-bender up ahead.”

“Great.” She closed her eyes and mentally tried to prepare for the interview. At 8:35, the taxi finally pulled up in front of the address. The three-story, red brick building was on a busy street bordering the downtown district of Salt Lake. It was a graceful blend of the traditional and modern with its arched windows that were overshadowed by an impressive gable, supported by metal framework. The place was intimidating to say the least. She paid the driver and stepped out into the rain that had turned from a drizzle to a downpour. Why had she not thought to bring an umbrella?

One minute she was running for the door and the next, she was facedown on the sidewalk. It happened so fast that the only thing Chloe could remember was throwing her hands out to catch herself. The next thing she knew, a middle-aged woman was standing over her, holding out her hand.

The woman helped her to her feet. “Let’s get you out of the rain. Is that yours?”

Chloe nodded, and the woman handed her the portfolio case that was now drenched. She fought back the tears that were threatening to overflow, knowing that if she let go, she would soon have trails of black mascara trickling down her face.

“What happened?” the woman asked once they were inside.

“I’m not sure, but it felt like the heel of my shoe got caught on something.”

“It was the rain! I’ve lived here all of my life and have never seen so much rain this time of the year. You took quite a fall. Are you okay?”

Chloe looked down at her knee and at the blood that was oozing out of the gigantic hole in her tights. The heel on her right pump was dangling, and the palms of her hands were scratched. This time, she couldn’t stop the tears. “I’m here for an interview. What am I going to do? I can’t go in there looking like this. I only have one shoe.”

“There’s a public restroom down the hall. Go in there and clean yourself up, and then you’ll feel better. They’ll understand. It could happen to anyone,” the woman said kindly.

Chloe managed a tight smile. “Thanks, I’ll do that.”

She went to the restroom and tried to clean up the best she could. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a thing she could do about the shoe. She thought about removing the tights but decided to leave them on. At least then they would be able to see that she’d made the attempt to look professional. She took the elevator up to the third floor, expecting that Marsh Interiors would be located in one of the suites. When the elevator door opened, however, she stepped out and found herself standing in an impressive reception room done in pleasing neutrals with metal accents and a rough-hewn hickory floor that was a weathered gray. Marsh Interiors took up the entire third floor. She approached the reception desk.

The look on the receptionist’s face said it all when she looked at Chloe’s ragged appearance.

Chloe straightened under the scrutiny and put on her best professional voice. “I’m Chloe Kensley. I’m here for an interview. Unfortunately, I’m a little late. As you can see from my appearance, I had trouble getting here.”

The corner of the girl’s mouth began to twitch like she was trying hard not to laugh. Chloe felt like crying. “I’ll tell Mr. Singleton that you’re here. Have a seat.”

Luckily, the waiting room was empty. Her knee was bleeding again, and it was starting to throb. Fifteen minutes later, a man in his early thirties stepped out of the one of the inner offices and walked in through the back of the reception area. From the way the woman at the desk jumped to attention, Chloe guessed he must be pretty important. He was the no-nonsense type with his closely cropped dark hair and hard jaw. He looked at Chloe, and his steel eyes locked with hers, sending a chill through her, making her hot and cold at the same time. How ridiculous she must look, sitting there in a stained suit, barefooted and holding her shoes in her hands. Her only thought was
Please don’t let this be the man that’s supposed to interview me.

His eyes narrowed, and he turned to the woman, ignoring Chloe altogether. “Yvette, I thought you said Chloe Kensley was here.”

Chloe swallowed hard. She stood and switched the shoes to her left hand before extending her right hand to him. “I’m Chloe Kensley.”

W
hen Chloe shut
the door to Hank Singleton’s office, she felt like she’d just closed the door on her career. Hank Singleton, the owner of Marsh Interiors, hadn’t given her any slack in her fifteen-minute interview that should have lasted an hour. She could tell that the idea of her losing a shoe on the way to the interview was beyond comprehension as far as he was concerned. She doubted if any of her answers to his interview questions had penetrated that negative halo he’d formed when he saw her standing there barefooted. He’d only given her portfolio a cursory glance and then snapped it shut. Who could blame him? It was still wet from when she dropped it.

Chloe looked down at her stocking feet and shook her head. It was the first time she noticed that her big toe was sticking out. No wonder Mr. Singleton thought she was a coot. She would have laughed if tears hadn’t been so close to the surface.

As she walked past the receptionist’s desk, the girl looked up. “Are you a size seven?”

“I-I’m sorry. I don’t know what you mean.”

“Your shoe size. It looks like we have about the same size feet. I have a pair of sneakers that I use to go walking on my lunch break. You’re welcome to borrow them if you would like.”

Chloe couldn’t hold back any longer. Tears of gratitude welled when she reached for the shoes. “Thank you so much. I was wondering how I was going to get home barefooted. I promise, I’ll bring them back.”

She smiled. “You’re welcome. You have a lovely accent. Where are you from?”

“South Carolina. I just moved here a few days ago.”

“Welcome to Salt Lake, and good luck on your job hunting.”

C
hloe decided
to take the stairs on the way out to avoid being seen wearing a suit with a pair of sneakers. Eager to escape, she yanked open the door at the bottom of the stairs and ran head-on into a man rushing in. They collided, knocking her portfolio and purse onto the marble floor, scattering the contents.

The man was the first to regain his composure. “Miss. Are you okay? I’m so sorry. I wasn’t watching. I’m late for an interview.”

His remark stunned her. Was he interviewing for the same position? The irony of the situation was too much, and she burst out laughing. The next minute, they were both on their hands and knees, trying to retrieve her things. He raised his blonde head, and she found herself staring into a pair of startling blue eyes.

“Did you do this?” He held up one of the pages from her portfolio.

“Yes, I did.”

“Wow. This is great. The color combinations are magnificent.” The man stood and helped Chloe to her feet.

“Thank you.” A sense of pleasure warmed her. The man had noticed her work. It had been a long time since anyone had complimented her on anything, and the fact that he was noticing something that she took great pride in was especially gratifying. Her mother’s caution to be wary of strangers echoed in her mind.

“Do you have time to get a soda or something? There’s a little restaurant not too far from here. They have the best Italian cream sodas in town.” He took hold of her arm and started steering her toward the door.

“I really have to go … besides your interview …” Before she could finish her sentence, the two were standing on the sidewalk, and he was flagging down a taxi. At least it had stopped raining.

He looked down at the sneakers. “New style?”

She smirked. “Long story.”

“Good, you can tell me about it over sodas.”

“Wait. I don’t even know your name.”

He gave her a dazzling smile. “Garrett.”

She smiled back. “Chloe.”

They rode in silence until Garrett asked the taxi driver to stop in front of a quaint building. Garrett directed them to a cozy table in the corner of the crowded restaurant, and a few minutes later she was looking across the table at him, sipping on a vanilla soda. All she knew up to this point was that his name was Garrett and that he had the good sense to appreciate her drawings. He was immaculately dressed in a charcoal gray, pinstriped suit with a silk tie. His arresting eyes reminded her of sapphires, and his quick smile made her feel warm, despite her damp clothes.

Garrett took a swig of his soda. “Umm, that’s good. I love the cherry. How’s yours?”

“Very good.”

“It couldn’t be as good as the cherry.”

She laughed. “I don’t know about that. It really is fantastic.”

He held out his soda and turned the straw in her direction. “Here, try mine and see.”

Her eyes went wide. She didn’t want to drink after a person she’d just met, but she couldn’t think of a diplomatic way to turn him down. She took a drink. “Pretty good.”

“But?” he prompted.