There Goes the Neighborhood

It’s a gorgeous summer afternoon on Elderberry Lane, the most exclusive cul-de-sac in the Pleasant Valley neighborhood. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping and I can’t stop imagining all the ways I could murder Theo Whitmore. He laughs it up with the cluster of women surrounding his grill pretending to be waiting for burgers, while their husbands stand in a huddle a few feet away, drinking overpriced beer. He’s only been here a week and he’s already managed to charm the entire neighborhood.

I glare across the street and just barely resist the urge to walk over and stab him with his grilling fork.

“Um, I think you’ve mixed that quite enough dear.”

I’m pulled out of my murderous daydreams with a start as I realize there’s a woman in front of me. When I look down, I see that I’ve pummeled the potato salad into an unrecognizable lump. I try and laugh it off as I scoop a healthy glob onto her extended plate. “I read somewhere that it really brings out the flavor!”

She doesn’t look convinced, glancing around as if a SWAT team is going to touch down at any moment and arrest me for potato salad related assault.

“Welcome to the Pleasant Valley Block Party! Don’t forget to enter into the raffle!” Not even my forced cheeriness can save this interaction. The woman scurries off, probably looking for someone to report me to.

I sigh, I wasn’t even supposed to be on serving duty. I originally had a highly coveted grilling position, but I’d gotten stuck with this last minute, I suspect in no small part to Theo’s supposed charm. I’m sure it’s all part of his plan to keep me far away from any readily available sharp objects. I know he can feel the weight of my murderous glare, and though he never takes his eyes off the grill, or his harem, I can sense him watching me.

“Hello, earth to Allie!”

I loosen my death grip on the ladle and it lands with a smack in lump formerly known as potato salad, sending chunks all over my white blouse

“Shit!” What is happening to me? I can’t afford to be this distracted right now.

“Yikes,” Brenda eyes my blouse with distaste before shifting her focus to Satan’s spawn happily flipping burgers across the way. He still hadn’t spared our side of the street a glance, but the bastard is laughing at me, I just know it.

“He sure is something isn’t he? You hear about what happened with Jake and Ana?”

Brenda Schuyler

Address: 504 Elderberry Lane

Relationship Status: Married, 5 years to Neil Schuyler

Children: 2

Occupation: Stay at home mom-fluencer and neighborhood gossip

Possible Motive: Boredom

Brenda had the uncanny ability to soak up information like a sponge and then disperse it back out at an inhuman speed, which is how I know everyone will hear about my supposed ogling of Theo by the end of the hour.

“Word on the cul-de-sac is that their dead in the water. Apparently Jake caught her cozying up to Adam at the Sutton’s clam bake last week and he lost it, had the divorce papers drawn up by the next morning. Ana swears up and down nothing happened between them, but she doesn’t exactly have the greatest track record if you know what I mean.”

She leans in closer and lowers her voice, “Three personal trainers, two dog walkers and a mailman,” she elaborates just in case I didn’t catch her meaning.

She throws back the rest of her champagne flute and continues to gawk at Theo or rather Adam, as she knows him. “Not that anyone can blame her.”

We both watch as Theo/Adam flips a burger in the air and catches it on his spatula eliciting a round of cheers from his fan club.

“God, don’t you just wanna climb him like a tree?”

I want to tell her that I’d rather stick hot pins in my eyes than get within ten feet of that man child, but instead I laugh it off and say, “I’m married. You’re married.”

She chuckles and shoots me a pitying look “Oh honey, you’re so cute.” Then, I kid you not, she boops my nose. I wonder if she’d be so inclined to patronize me if she realized I know ten different ways to kill her with this ladle?

“Hi Allie, Brenda!”

“Hey girls, how’s it going?”

“Hey Gracie. Hey Tom.”

Grace and Tom Paxton

Address: 506 Elderberry Lane

Relationship Status: Married, 16 years

Children: 3

Occupation: Owners of a successful hardware store chain

Possible Motive: Massive gambling debt

Gracie smiles though she looks exhausted. “We’re on bouncy castle duty. I haven’t run around this much since our boys left for college! We gotta get back, our house is open if you guys need anything!”

Brenda’s megawatt smile drops as soon as their out earshot. “You are never gonna believe what I heard about Tom yesterday at pilates.”

I’m too distracted by a mop of messy brown hair making its way through the crowd to really listen.

“Could you fill me in later?” I interrupt her rambling, “I’m gonna try and salvage what’s left of this blouse, cover for me?”

Brenda eyes the potato salad warily and sighs. “Fine, but you owe me.”

“Thanks B.”

I’m only a few steps past the threshold of the Paxtons’ house when I’m grabbed from behind and yanked into a cool dark space. My hand automatically goes for my back pocket, immediately feeling the familiar shape of the small plastic tube. I twist in their grip landing an elbow in their gut, and smirk when it earns me a pained groan.

A light clicks on overhead and I find myself in a pantry looking up into Theo’s mossy green eyes.

Theo Whitmore

Alias: Adam Brinkley

Relationship: Giant Man-Whore Emotionally Unavailable Asshole Unknown

Occupation: Spawn of Satan Pain in My Ass Junior Agent

Mission: Make my job as hard as possible and screw me over, again

His eyes are sparkling like a kid in a candy store, watching me with that infuriating smirk as if I don’t currently have a knife pressed up against his throat. Like I couldn’t kill him with one flick of my wrist. It wouldn’t take much, just one little…

He glances down and chuckles. “Is that a tube of lipstick? Must be a bitch to apply.”

“I’ve never heard any complaints. Though most people are too dead to leave a review.”

“Nice to see you too Kit-Kat.”

“Hell spawn,” I reply through gritted teeth.

“Oh, what is it you’re going by these days, Allie Greenbriar? A newly married event planner from New York whose husband is conveniently deployed over seas. I guess I should start calling you Allie Kat now.”

“Cute, how long did it take you to come with that?”

“Hard to say. As you know, I spend most of my days thinking about you and imagining what are kids will look like, the scrapbook is almost finished by the way if— ahh ha ha.”

I cut off his thinly veiled attempt at a distraction with a little more pressure from my knife.

“I had no idea you were into this kind of thing love, way to keep the mystery alive eh?”

“Careful, your mask is starting to slip, love.”

“Ooh, are we role playing now?” He grins as his American accent slips back into place.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Well, I’ve always been fascinated by suburban life.”

I apply more pressure on the blade, enough that it draws blood and he just laughs like this is some kind of game.

“Kit-Kat, if I’d known you were this kinky I’d have professed my love a long time ago.

I narrow my eyes at his pathetic attempts to charm me. It’s disgusting. That feeling in my stomach is definitely revulsion.

My brain chooses this moment to acknowledge his hands that are wrapped firmly around my waist.

“Hands off. Now.”

He raises his hands in the universal sign of surrender, his boyish expression resembling that of a puppy dog, but he can’t fool me. He’s a wolf, cold and merciless.

“You know, I’m very into this whole bossy thing you’ve got going on, it’s really working for me.”

“Oh yeah, what if I sliced open your jugular and watched you slowly bleed out to death? Would that work for you?”

He moves impossibly closer, despite the blade cutting into his skin. “I love it any time your eyes are on me.”

I huff and try to ignore his closeness.

“You’re gonna blow my cover.”

“Just here to lend a hand.”

“I don’t need a hand, least of all yours, I’ve got everything under control here.

He glances down at the potato salad covering the better part of my shirt and raises a brow.

“Obviously.”

“You don’t—”

“You figure out who’s moving the drugs yet?”

“I’m getting close.”

“Hm.”

“Hm, what?”

“I guess command didn’t think you were up for the task. Something about not wanting a repeat of Amsterdam?”

My blood runs hot as I seriously weigh the pros and cons of slitting his throat amongst the dried pasta and gluten free crackers.

“You don’t get to talk about Amsterdam.”

“Oh come on Kat, you’re still not over that?”

“Over it? I’ve been on desk duty for the last eight months because of you!”

The pantry door is ripped open before I have a chance to decide if killing him is worth it. We both spring back like a pair of teenagers caught making out.

“Oh my!” Gertie Abrams stands in the doorway with a hand over her heart. She glances at the blood on Theo’s neck and her eyes get impossibly wider.

Theo loops an arm around my waist “She’s a real wildcat, this one, I just can’t keep her off me.”

Decision made. I’m gonna strangle him.

Gertie giggles, her cheeks turning a deep red as she fans herself.

“Oh, I remember that feeling! Boy the stories I could tell you…”

Gertie Abrams

Address: 500 Elderberry Lane

Relationship Status: Widowed

Children: None

Occupation: Retired school teacher

Possible Motive: Unknown

She mistakes the shocked look on my face for one of apprehension.

“Don’t worry hun,” she leans in like we’re co-conspirators and stage whispers, “Your secret’s safe with me.” She seals her faux promise with a wink and closes the door. Between Brenda and now Gertie, I’ll hold the title of neighborhood harlot by the end of the hour.

“Looks like we’re all out of gluten free crackers!” She shouts too loudly on her way back to the kitchen.

“Great, we’ll be the talk of the block for weeks.”

“Guess it’s a good thing we won’t be here for much longer.”

I narrow my eyes at his smug tone. “What do you know?”

“Is this you asking for my help?”

“This is me doing my job.”

“Really? Cause it seems like you’re asking me to do your job for you.”

I take a deep breath and hold my tongue.

“Better get back out there before your fan club starts rioting in the street.”

“Jealousy looks good on you Kit-Kat.”

He moves in closer, invading my space until we’re only a breath away and leans down to whisper in my ear.

“I’ll lend you my debriefing report after, so you can read about how a real agent closes a case.”

Then he’s gone, out the pantry door as quickly as he’d dragged me in.

I should’ve slit his throat when I had the chance.

I’m starting to doubt my intel as I stare up at the tree house at least 15 feet off the ground, then at the pile of wood that used to be the ladder, laying in a heap at the base of the tree. Waiting for nightfall to check out the tree house had been a kind of torture, between watching Theo charm the entire neighborhood and trying to convince people my potato salad was edible, but I’d had no choice. The tree house is perfectly positioned to look out over the whole cul-de-sac so you can see everything, but it also means that while you’re climbing it, everyone can see you.

I finally make it to the top, though my landing is far from graceful and my breaths are coming out much harsher than they should. The last eight months of desk duty has done me no favors.

“I give it 6.5. I deducted points for tardiness.”

I can’t even muster up the will to be surprised, let alone angry to find him up here.

“Whatever was here is long gone now. Theo runs a finger along an empty bookshelf in the corner. It comes back covered in a white powder. “Means we’re getting closer though.”

“We are not a we. I am an I and you are an asshole.”

Ok, maybe I can muster up a little anger. Though if I’m being honest, I’m more upset that I climbed this stupid tree for nothing.

“I need to—”

“Shh!”

“Don’t you shush me!”

“No, I mean it, listen!”

We both go quiet. At first, I can’t hear anything but the fireworks from the block party going off, but then…

“Is that—-”

“There’s no way.”

We both creep towards the crude hole in the side of the house that was intended to be a window and look towards the ground.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” As if my day can’t get any worse, there’s a masked psycho with a freaking chainsaw trying to cut down the tree. The one we’re currently standing in.

“Ugh, I do not get paid enough for this.”

I crawl back through the door I just crawled in through and quickly begin making my way down, with Theo right behind me. I pause when I land on a particularly precarious branch but it’s too late.

“No, wait, it can’t hold both of us!”

The branch cracks before giving away from our combined weight, and we go tumbling to the forest floor.

I groan and sit up in a huff. The chainsaw bitch is nowhere to be found.

Theo and I share a look, some kind of mutual understanding passing between us.

“Truce?”

I scowl at his outstretched hand.

“Temporary truce,” I agree reluctantly. After we catch this bastard, I plan to go back to plotting your tragic, accidental, work related death immediately.”

“Deal.”

“Testing, testing, 123.”

“I can hear you just fine, could you shut up unless you actually find something.” I mumble annoyed. The comms unit goes quiet for all of thirty seconds before he starts humming Hall & Oats’ Maneater.

Now that our cover was blown, we no longer had the element of surprise on our side, but we were closing in on them and their desperation was making them reckless.

“Allie you won’t believe what I just saw!”

“Hey Brenda, I can’t really talk right now—”

“Gertie Abram’s just blew through here looking absolutely ravished. I hope I’m still that active when I’m her age.”

“Yeah, that’s nice B.”

“I heard she’s been seeing someone in the neighborhood. Apparently, they’ve been sneaking out to that creepy old tree house in the woods.”

I freeze, replaying her last few words.

Brenda keeps talking but I’m already walking away.

“Theo?”

“Already on it.”

My eyes dart all over looking for a flash of her silver hair in the crowd. The street’s been blocked off for the party, there’s no where for her to run.

“She’s boxed in, there’s no way she’ll be able to get through this crowd.”

“Yeah, we’ve just got to find her before the party ends.”

“Good evening everyone! As you all know, I’m Gwendolyn James, you’re HOA president. As our annual block party comes to an end, it’s my pleasure to finally announce the winner of tonight’s raffle!”

I spot Gertie next to the stage at the same time she sees me and I can’t school my face fast enough. She takes off into the crowd, surprisingly spry for a 76 year old.

“Theo, I’ve got her, she’s headed towards the hot air balloons.”

“On my way.”

In her rush Gertie isn’t paying attention to where she’s going, too preoccupied with looking back at me, so she doesn’t see the clown until it’s too late.

Theo and I get there at the same time and he grabs her under the guise of helping her up.

“She’s alright ladies and gentlemen!”

Gertie tries to wriggle out of his hold but Theo’s not budging.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” He’s grinning, but his eyes are far from kind.

“Sorry Gertie, unfortunately your secret is not safe with me.”

The crowd parts quickly as we usher Gertie through.

Theo looks at me from the corner of his eye “We make a pretty good team.”

He holds up his hand before I can get a word out.

“Yeah, yeah I know, there is no we.”

“Huh, so it can be trained.”

He ignores my jab and turns his attention to Gertie. “How’d you get wrapped up in all this anyhow?”

She huffs. “My family founded this town, and now all of a sudden these young, rich couples start moving in and pushing us old widows out. First it was Sheryl Collins, then they went after Jett Mullins and just last week Birdie Howard’s family moved her into one of those facilities and put her house up for sale! Money talks in this town, I had to do something to protect myself!”

Theo nods along. “So naturally, dealing drugs was the obvious choice.”

“You see what I mean, they’re everywhere, it’s like an infestation!” She gestures to a moving truck a few houses down from us, where a woman is yelling at the movers to be careful with her wedding china.

I raise a brow and Theo grins as we share a look.

“There goes the neighborhood.”