“I can’t—”
“Sure you can.” She gave me a little push.
“No, really. I have a camera. And I don’t read much. I doubt I’ll have any use for the iPad... .” My voice trailed off.
Lindsay clapped her hands over her face.
While I stood there holding the box, trying to think of what to say, she was slowly sinking. Not because she was standing in quicksand or anything, but because she’d gone semi-boneless and was crumpling to the ground. Some strange sound—a ... burble?—came from behind her hands.
Shit, she was crying.
If there was anything I couldn’t handle, it was the sight of a grown adult crying.
“Okay,” I said, “if it means that much to you, I’ll take the stuff.”
She didn’t stop crying.
I bent over her. “I said, I’ll take the box.”
She cried harder.
“Isn’t that what you want?” I asked.
“Take it all,” she said between sobs. “Everything.”
“Okay. I’ll take everything. But only if you stop crying.”
She stopped.
Great.
Wonderful.
Just nifty.
Now, I was stuck with two boxes of stuff that belonged to someone else. I wondered if I might find a way to get it all back to him, whoever he was.
She blinked red, watery eyes up at me. “Thanks.” She snuffled, dragged her hand across her face.
“You’re ... welcome?” I motioned to Jon’s house—my house. “I guess I’ll take this box over and come back for the second one.”
Making a full recovery, Lindsay scrambled to her feet. “I’ll help. There are about ten more boxes in the house.”
Ten? Did I actually agree to take more than two?
Stomping across the lawn, she said over her shoulder, “I want it all out before my kids get home from school. They’re not going to take this well.” Turning to face me, she blinked a few more times. “They liked the bastard. They loved him. He’s the only father they’ve known.” Jerking around, she ran into her house and slammed the door.
We had all fifteen—she’d underestimated—loaded into the garage within an hour. Right about the time Lindsay was stacking the last box in place, Joshua came racing into the garage.
He skidded to a stop. “What’s all this?”
“Just some old things Lindsay wanted to get rid of,” I said. Hoping to distract him, I asked, “Shouldn’t you be in school?”
“We had a half day.”
“I better get home,” Lindsay said. “Carson and Avery will be home soon. Thanks, Christine. I owe you one.”
“No problem,” I said to her back.
Josh flipped open the top box. “Oh cool! An iPad! Can I keep it?”
I slapped the flap down. “No. It’s not ours.”
“But—”
“I’m giving all this stuff back to its rightful owner. As soon as I can figure out how to do that. I don’t even know who it belongs to.”
“Maybe I can help.” He dug deeper into the box. “I recognize this camera. It’s Matt’s stuff. He took pictures at our block party with it.”
“Did you know Matt?” I asked, marveling at the number of words Josh had actually spoken today. To me. It was an all-time record. Could he be getting used to me already?
“Sure. Everyone knows Matt. He’s okay.” Josh dropped the camera back into the box. “If you want to know how to find him, I bet Mrs. Ross could tell you.” He motioned toward Erica’s house. “I saw her talking to him sometimes.”
“Thanks for the tip.” Remembering I’d forgotten to get the mail, I headed back down the driveway. The mailbox was packed full. Most of it was advertising. I dumped it all, and the rolled-up flier, on the table in the foyer.
“Anything for me?” Josh asked, coming in through the garage.
I hadn’t sorted the mail yet. “I don’t know. Are you expecting something?”
“You never know.” He shrugged, grabbing the flier and unrolling it. “Oh, look at this, Mrs. Wahlen’s dog is missing again.”
“Mrs. Wahlen’s dog?” I echoed, peering at the printed flier. The photo was black-and-white and grainy, but there was no question. That was the thing that had bitten me last night. “That’s what that was? A dog?”
“Skippy’s creepy-looking. And mean,” Josh said. “Everyone in the neighborhood hates him.”
“That’s not very nice.” Now I was feeling bad, knowing I’d killed some lady’s beloved pet. Kind of. After all, he was mean. Josh said so. Hopefully hiding the guilty look on my face, I went back to sorting the mail.
“Okay, I kind of feel bad for Mrs. Wahlen. She loves that creepy dog. Buys it ugly little sweaters and boots to wear in the winter. Mr. Wahlen died a few months ago. The dog is all she has now.”
Oh God. I’d killed an elderly woman’s only family member. Now I really felt like crap.
Finished sorting the mail, I gave Josh a shrug. “Nothing for you today.”
“Maybe I’ll go out and look for Skippy,” he said.
“That’s a very nice thing to do.”
I think his cheeks pinked up a little. He shuffled his feet. “I’m not trying to be nice. I want to buy a game for my DS. Maybe she’ll pay a reward.” He rolled the flier back up.
I didn’t believe that was the only reason why he was going in search of the so-called lost pet. But I figured I’d let him save face. “Ah, okay.” Of course, I knew he wasn’t going to find the dog—at least, I was pretty sure he wouldn’t. That meant he wasn’t going to collect any reward. “What game do you want to buy?”
“Ghost Trick. My dad won’t buy it for me. He says I can wait ’til my birthday. But that’s months from now.”
I mentally filed away the game’s name, thinking I might pick it up for him just because.
He headed for the door. “I’ll be around.” He waved. “Do you want me to ask Mrs. Ross if she has Matt’s phone number?”
“No, that’s okay. I can ask her myself. Later. Thanks.”
He stepped onto the porch, his body half-in, half-out of the house. “She’s outside now. I’ll send her over.” A second later, before I could stop him, he hollered, “Hey, Mrs. Ross, Christine needs to talk to you!”
Two minutes later, Erica was at my door.