Read The Good Neighbor Online

Authors: Kimberly A Bettes

Tags: #thriller, #suspense, #mystery, #suspicion, #serial killer, #neighbors, #killer, #pageturner, #neighborhood, #neighbor from hell, #kimberly a bettes

The Good Neighbor (10 page)

BOOK: The Good Neighbor
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I loved the way she felt against me, her
breasts firm against my chest. The smell of her was more than
intoxicating. These things combined put me over the edge. There was
no hiding my excitement from her now. I knew she felt it. In fact,
I knew the exact moment she felt it. She stopped kissing me and
smiled.

Then, she took my hand in hers and led me
upstairs to her bedroom.

 

 

 

21 Bernie

I couldn’t pace fast enough to work off the
anger that coursed through my veins. I needed to do something more
than walk the floor. I looked around, frantic for something,
anything to release this anger. I picked up the end table that sat
beside the couch and hurled it across the room, beer bottles and
all. It slammed against the wall, breaking the top and knocking off
a leg. Who cared?

Who did that son of a bitch think he was?
What could he possibly be doing over there? Again! That smug
bastard was trying to edge me out. Well I wasn’t going to let that
happen. I had more game than he did. I’m Bernie Bear, for crying
out loud! Damn him to hell.

I ran to the refrigerator and threw open the
door, slamming it against the table. I jerked a bottle of cold beer
from inside and tore off the cap. I chugged the beer, trying to
push down my anger. It didn’t work. I threw the empty bottle across
the room, smashing it into a million pieces.

I looked out the window over the sink,
scanning her windows for signs of them. Of course, I saw nothing.
Her blinds were shut tight, as always. But I knew what was going
on. Or at least what that damn Owen wanted to be going on. He
hadn’t been with anyone since that crap with his ol’ lady, and now,
of all the people in town, he chooses my broad. The broad next door
to me. The same broad that had been sending me signals, wanting me
to come over and give her what I had.

Didn’t he know that she wanted me? She’d been
sending me signals, staring over here from time to time like she
wanted me to come over. She was asking me for it. Hell, she was
begging me to give it to her, and he was over there in the way.

Unless...what if she’d been sending him
signals too? What if she was like the others? All those women at
all those bars over the years that had come on to me, wanting and
needing me, they said. I go to the john and come back, and they’re
all over some other guy. All bitches. Bitches in heat, is what they
were. They’d take the first dick that came along and act like they
liked it, and then move on to the next guy before the gunk dried in
their panties.

That whore! That’s fine. That’s okay. I’d get
her. I had nothing else to do but wait. The longer I waited, the
better it’d be, right? Waiting gave me more time to think of things
I was going to do to her. Oh, the things I was going to do to
her.

I watched out the window for a couple of
hours, but Owen never left. Finally, I gave up. I wasn’t fond of
wallowing in his leftovers anyway. The thought of having his gunk
anywhere near my dick made my stomach turn. I’d go to bed for now
and tomorrow night, I’d go over and show her what a real man can
do. Owen’s ass couldn’t be over there all the time. He had to
sleep. And while he was home sleeping, I’d be next door, banging
the hell out of that broad.

 

 

 

22 Owen

As our breathing slowed, Carla snuggled up to
me, resting her head on my chest. Just knowing that she was lying
next to me naked was enough to get things going again. But I
quickly stopped myself from thinking of anything that would chance
ruining things between us. Sure, we’d just made love like crazed
animals, but if I tried to take her again so soon, well, maybe she
wasn’t ready for that.

“You don’t think badly of me now, do you?”
she asked.

I assured her there was no way I would think
less of her. We agreed that we really hadn’t known each other for
long, but the feelings were there. It was as if we’d known each
other forever. The level of comfort we shared said it all. Being
together felt like home to us.

I stayed with her until she grew too tired to
keep her eyes open. I promised to return tomorrow. She begged me to
stay the night, which I wanted to do more than anything, but I knew
she wouldn’t want the kids to see me here in the morning like this.
It felt right for us, but would the kids feel the same way? I
didn’t want to start off on the wrong foot with them. It would be a
shock for them to see a relatively new man in their house, possibly
even in their mother’s room if they got up before we did, and we
didn’t want to put them through that.

I walked back to my house, glancing at
Bernie’s as I passed. There were no lights on in any of the
windows. I imagined him passed out on the couch, beer spilled all
over him. I didn’t want to ruin the evening by thinking of Bernie,
so I quickly put thoughts of him out of the way.

Instead, I thought of Carla. She was
different from Holly in so many ways, yet alike in many ways also.
Both shared the same wonderful qualities of kindness and warmth,
intelligence and humor, and of course, breathtaking beauty. But
unlike Holly, Carla was more outgoing. She was the type of person
who’d never met a stranger, and probably never would. Holly had
always been more reserved, more careful about people. I was sure
that Carla was well aware of the possible dangers posed by
strangers, but she still showed her compassion and was
friendly.

And another similarity between the two was I
loved them both.

I wondered if it was possible to really fall
in love so quickly. I’d known Carla such a short amount of time.
Was it enough? I worried that she was just plugging the hole in my
boat, as Jill had put it, and that once the hole was truly fixed,
the feelings would disappear. I didn’t want to hurt Carla in any
way. I truly hoped that the feelings I had for her were genuine.
They certainly felt that way to me, but what did I know? I’d only
been with one woman before.

I’d hear people talk about their ‘rebound’
relationships and how they never worked out. Usually, people ended
up hating the person they’d used as a rebound. I didn’t want that.
I hoped enough time had passed since Holly that I was beyond the
rebound stage. I wanted a real relationship with Carla.

I noticed Andy had already gone to work. The
lights were off in the house. Of course the lights were off. It was
after midnight and Jill was a librarian. Most librarians weren’t
known to keep late hours.

I glanced over at Jenson’s house as I walked
up the steps to my porch. I hesitated on the top step, considering
doing something I never would’ve thought myself capable of.

I scanned the houses along the street and was
satisfied that no one was awake, and even if someone was, they
weren’t outside or even perched at the window. I looked back at
Jenson’s house, taking note of the light cast from the street lamps
and the shadows that fell between.

Was I brave enough? I would surely go
unnoticed. It was late, and if I stayed in the shadows, I could
slip over there virtually undetected by anyone.

I started down the steps and then decided I
should probably take a flashlight. It would’ve defeated the purpose
of slinking in the shadows if I’d been planning to use it in the
normal way. But I wasn’t. The only person who’d be able to see the
glow of the flashlight would be Jenson, and I was banking on him
being asleep at this hour.

My stomach was full of butterflies as I
walked down the sidewalk toward Louis’ house. I walked past the
streetlight and crossed the street in the shadows. Glancing at
Jenson’s house, I saw no lights on this side either. I felt more
secure that he was asleep. I also felt safe assuming that his
bedroom was upstairs, as was usually the case. I froze in mid-step
as I remembered that he was old, and getting around for him wasn’t
as easy as it was for me. What if he slept downstairs to avoid all
the steps?

A knot replaced the butterflies in my
stomach. I almost turned back and went home. But I wasn’t going to
break in, so I didn’t think it would be a problem even if he did
sleep on the first floor.

I glanced down the street once more to make
sure I was the only one out. Then, I stepped off the sidewalk and
into Jenson’s yard.

I walked quickly and quietly to the side of
his house that faced the empty house where the elderly couple had
lived. I could just see over the sill of the windows on the first
floor. I peered into the darkness, unsure of what I was seeing.
Leaning farther toward the window, I strained my eyes.

No luck. I flicked on the flashlight and
slowly brought it up to the window. All I could think about was how
horrifying it would be to bring the light up and have it illuminate
the face of an angry Jenson, staring down at me. The image of him
in my mind, all in shadows except for his pale face and white hair,
glaring down at me caused me to pause for a moment. I nearly ran
home, but I didn’t.

I let the light fall through the glass and
scan the room. It wasn’t easy to see through the thick curtains.
Disappointed, I walked to the next window, only to have my view
blocked by blinds. The next window was the kitchen window and
higher than the rest. I couldn’t see in it. I was beginning to see
that this was all going to be for nothing. I wouldn’t be able to
see in, although I really didn’t know what I was expecting to see.
I walked around the back of the house, my disappointment
growing.

That’s when I heard it.

 

 

 

23 Jill

I awoke on the couch sometime after midnight,
angry with myself. I’d wanted so much to talk to Andy before he’d
left for work. Now I’d have to wait.

He left a note on the coffee table professing
his love for me, which I already knew. It made me smile anyway,
though. I could never tire of him telling me.

I stood slowly, stretching and yawning. For
the first time all day, I felt hungry. I didn’t want to chance
upsetting my stomach, though. Maybe something light would be okay.
Rummaging through the kitchen, I settled on buttered toast.

I still felt shaky and weak as I got the
butter out of the refrigerator and a knife from the drawer.
Hopefully, this would pass soon. I didn’t like feeling bad. But who
did?

I slathered butter on the toasted bread and
poured myself a glass of ice water, thinking of what I was going to
say to Andy when he came home. Nothing seemed right. All the words
seemed generic. Maybe I should have a party, but that didn’t sound
right, either. Perhaps I should make a night out of it. Dinner,
maybe a movie. It just seemed like I should do something to make it
special. Of course, it was special enough by itself. But I still
felt as if I should do something to commemorate the moment.

Just when I finished the first piece of toast
and picked up the second, nausea overwhelmed me. I dropped the
toast and bolted for the bathroom, barely making it in time. Unlike
the morning’s bout, this was over as soon as the toast was out of
my body. Thankfully. I doubted I had the strength to continue.

My legs were weak, buckling slightly when I
stood. My hands trembled as I flushed the toilet. I rinsed my mouth
with mouthwash to get rid of the horrible taste. I leaned on the
counter while I brushed, trying to compensate for the lack of
strength.

After rinsing my mouth, I slowly made my way
to the kitchen where the toast had landed on the floor, buttered
side down, as my luck would have it. I picked up the toast and used
a paper towel to wipe the butter from the floor.

Standing, I was overcome briefly by
dizziness. I steadied myself against the counter and made my way to
the trash can. I threw away the paper towel, but as I was about to
throw the toast in, I remembered Oscar. Surely, he would appreciate
a nice, warm piece of toast with gooey butter melted on it.

I went out the front door and onto the porch.
I looked for the dog, but I never saw him. I did see someone,
though.

I watched as Owen squatted beside Mr.
Jenson’s house. I was trying to determine exactly what it was he
was doing over there this late. I squinted, trying to see through
the streetlight and peer further into the darkness, but having no
luck.

Then, I heard a sound. I couldn’t identify
it, and I didn’t have time. I quickly turned toward the sound and
saw Bernie slip inside his house and close the door behind him.

 

 

 

24 Owen

The sound was one I’d never heard before. No
matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t place it.

Around Jenson’s house, only inches from the
ground, were basement windows. I walked from one to another,
peering inside. I tried to see what was going on in there. The most
I saw was the back of Jenson’s head once, and a few times, I saw
his arms making wild, dramatic, over-the-head movements. I couldn’t
tell what he was doing.

There was light in the basement that would’ve
been sufficient for me to see, but the windows were filthy from the
rain splattering dirt on them.

I finally realized that no matter how hard I
looked, no matter how long I squatted here beside his house in the
middle of the night, I’d never know what was going on in there. I
was frustrated by this realization, but there was nothing I could
do about it.

I decided to go home, try to sleep to get
back on schedule, and tell Andy everything I’d seen as soon as he
came home from work in the morning.

Some of those things were easy to do. I got
home easily enough. I even went to bed with no problem. However,
going to sleep was proving to be far more difficult than I’d hoped.
After all, I’d been awake for less than six hours. My body didn’t
need sleep and apparently wasn’t going to get any.

I stared at the ceiling, waiting.

BOOK: The Good Neighbor
12.73Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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