Page 19 of Fish out of Water
More like… investigating.
That’s what this was. Investigating.
I looked around, making sure the coast was clear, before edging out from my hiding place.
I took the long way to Mr. Frazier’s apartment, cutting across the Bermuda grass lawn in the Converse sneakers I’d put on to replace Bessie and Bertha. Grant might be a pain in the ass, but he was also probably right about flip flops not being proper footwear for someone who might need to make a quick getaway.
And while I had a key and permission from the owner to be there, I’m not sure Grant would look at it the same way if he found me in Mr. Frazier’s apartment.
Again.
I walked around the pond, following the path that ran right behind Mr. Frazier’s building. The bedrooms were at the back of the units, which meant that the windows overlooking the water all belonged to bedrooms.
I counted as I walked, keeping one eye on the man-made pond, watching for any sign there was another alligator trying to call it home. The last one tried to eat Harold and ended up getting whacked to death by Mrs. Alberston.
Yet another thing I’d learned about old people. If you fuck with their dogs they will kill you with whatever’s close.
Usually that’s a cane.
I found the windows I was pretty sure belonged to Mr. Frazier’s unit without sighting any beady eyes scoping me out as an easy lunch. I glanced around, making sure no one else was watching me, before making a beeline for the windows. One set was blanketed with heavy curtains, making it impossible to see anything, but the blinds on the other one were barely parted, giving me a glimpse into the room beyond.
The bed was made and there was no sign of Grant or anything belonging to him, which made sense considering he had a bag over one shoulder when he left.
Which I found suspicious.
Maybe Grant wasn’t Mr. Frazier’s nephew at all. Maybe he spent the night digging through Mr. Frazier’s stuff. Packed some of it up in that bag, along with the stack of money he’d managed to confiscate from me, and was now off to spend his spoils.
And it was alotof money to spend.
I crouched down and ran toward the edge of the building, staying below the line of the windows in case anyone happened to be in their bedroom, enjoying the view of the fountain at the center of the pond and the swans swimming around it.
I peeked around the corner, making sure I was still in the clear, before casually stepping out and walking toward the front of the building. Once I reached the front I paused, looking over the parking lot for any sign of…
Hell, at this point I wasn’t even sure what I was looking for.
The two guys from the mailroom maybe?
Grant seemed to think they were worth running from, but was he just trying to scare me into passing off the money and leaving him to do whatever he wanted with Mr. Frazier’s belongings?
That’s what I was about to try to find out.
I walked as casually as I could to Mr. Frazier’s apartment. I’m not sure why I was worried about getting caught. I was freaking allowed to be there.
Hell, I wassupposedto be there.
I pulled out the paper he gave me, keeping it handy just in case I needed to prove it.
I put the key in the lock, doing my best to look like I was just doing what I was asked to do.
And I was. I fully intended to feed Penelope while I was there.
Who in the hell named a fish like that Penelope?
The same kind of man who disappeared into the night, leaving me to deal with his stupidly handsome and stupidly irritating nephew.
I ducked inside, closing and relocking the door.
Penelope was already staring at me from her giant tank. “Don’t look at me like that.” I held up the paper. “I’m here to feed you.”
