Robin didn’t look convinced. If anything, she seemed to be shrinking into herself. “What if the killer returns? What if I can’t get the blood out of the floorboards or the carpet? I close my eyes and all I see is the blood. I don’t want to live there with all those bad vibes and memories.”
“Okay, first of all, the killer won’t be back, because we’re going to hunt him down and make him wish he’d never been born.” I’d never been more serious in my life. Robin had escaped the killer, thank God, but whoever had murdered Alex had killed something inside my friend, too. And that I couldn’t stomach. Seeing Robin shaken, afraid, was tearing at my heart. “Your apartment can be cleaned. There are companies that come in and take care of that stuff. We can paint every room. We’ll go shopping, buy new carpets, sheets, towels, pillows, new clothes, whatever you need to purge the place of any trace that something bad ever happened there.”
Scowling, she threw the towel on the counter. “That’s easy for you to say.”
“Well, yeah, it is,” I said, glancing around at my own apartment. I’d faced a coldhearted killer, too, right here in my home. I’d managed to avoid spilling any blood, though, thank goodness. It had been hard enough to reclaim my sense of safety and security without having the memory of blood to color everything.
“How about this?” I said. “We’ll have my mom do a purification ceremony. We can all prance around with clumps of burning sage and smudge the place clean.”
She pressed her lips together to keep from smiling. Because, really, the image of my crazy mom dancing around, ponytail bouncing, waving sage, and chanting to ward off evil spirits? It was pretty funny.
Her smile was short-lived. “Look, I appreciate the attempt at humor, but you’ve never had to deal with…” She stopped talking as she noticed my eyes narrow down to slits. “Okay, um, I take that back.”
“Damn straight you’ll take that back.” I leaned against the refrigerator door and folded my arms. “You know what I went through when that psycho killer showed up at my house.”
She held up her hand. “I know, Brooklyn, but you have to admit this is different.”
“Okay, you’re right. I wasn’t sleeping with the victim.”
“Yes, that. And because… you know, the blood.”
“Blood can be cleaned,” I reiterated, trying to keep the exasperation from my voice. It’s not that I was mad at her. I knew what she was feeling, and honestly, a part of me wanted to curl up in a ball and hide, just like she did. But another part knew that the only way to buck Robin up was to be tough. “Look, here’s the deal. You can’t allow some murdering creep to chase you out of your own home. You love that place. You’ve been there for years and you know all your neighbors and you’ve got all your favorite places to shop and eat.”
“Yeah, I guess.” She blew out a breath, but she was standing a little straighter. “Oh, hell, I don’t know.”
I grabbed her shoulders. “And think about it. Who in their right mind would give up a two-bedroom rentcontrolled flat in the heart of Noe Valley?”
She smiled at that. “Now, that’s the best reason you’ve come up with so far.”
“There you go.” I pushed away from the refrigerator and straightened the soap dish on the sink. “Look, I was scared to death to come back to this place after they carted the killer away in handcuffs. Intellectually, I knew there was nothing to worry about, but I still had to beg my mom and dad to stay here with me for three nights. Finally I realized I was being silly. It was over. I was safe. And besides, Derek stopped by every day for a week.”
“He’s so nice,” she said wistfully.
“Yes, he really is.”
“You’re so lucky.”
“I know.”
And with that, she burst into tears.
After we’d managed to calm Robin down, Derek left for his office and I convinced Robin to take a long, soothing bubble bath. Then I cleaned up around the house and took out the trash. We have a trash chute in the building, so I walked down the hall and around the corner to the small trapdoor in the wall. I tossed the bag through the opening and waited, listening for the satisfying thud as it fell into the garage Dumpster six floors below.
“Hello, Miss Brooklyn.”
I turned and saw the little boy I’d met last night. “Hi, Tyler. How are you?”
“Fine, thank you.”
“Tyler?” his mother called from the far end of the hall.
“I’m here, Mama,” he bellowed.
“Whoa, who’s doing all the yelling?” My neighbor Suzie strolled up carrying a large white plastic trash bag. “Yo, Brooklyn, howzit?”
“Hi, Suzie,” I said. “Have you met Tyler?”
“Hey, munchkin,” Suzie said, grinning at the boy. “Are you our new neighbor?”
“Yes, sir,” Tyler whispered. He stared in fascination at Suzie, whose fashion choice today was a sleeveless black leather shirt with matching bell bottoms and spike-toed boots. Her white blond hair was short and spiked, and she wore at least ten different earrings and studs in her ears. Happily, none of her other parts were pierced. At least, none that showed. She looked like a scary but sexy lesbian chain-saw artist, which was exactly what she was.
Tyler’s mom came jogging around the bend. “Tyler, I called you to-Oh, hello.”
“Hi, Mama,” Tyler said. “This is our new neighbor.”
“Good morning, Lisa,” I said. “Have you met Suzie Stein? She has the place closest to the elevator on the east side of the building.”
Lisa bowed. “How do you do?”
“I’m dandy,” Suzie said. “I think you met my better half yesterday. Vinnie.”
Lisa cocked her head. “I met Vinnie. She is half of you?”
Suzie chuckled. “No, she’s my better half. That’s a kind of silly way of saying we’re a couple.”
“Ah. She is your roommate.”
“That’s another way to say it.”
“I am still have problems with some colloquialisms.”
“You’re doing great. Where in China are you from?”
“My mother is American. She moved to China and met my father. I was born and raised in Beijing. That’s where I met my husband.” She laughed. “My mother lives back here now and would love to rid me of my Chinese accent.”
“It’s charming,” I assured her.
She went on to explain that her husband was a diplomat and they had moved here because of his new job with the Chinese consulate in San Francisco. His last assignment had been at the embassy in Khartoum for five years. The whole family had been taking English-immersion classes for the past three years in anticipation of her husband obtaining the San Francisco assignment.
“Sudan, huh?” Suzie said, chuckling. “Guess he earned this plum gig after all your time there.”
“Naturally, we are happy with whatever assignment he is given.”
“Of course,” Suzie said lightly, but one of her eyebrows shot up and she sneaked a glance at me.
Lisa looked down at Tyler. “You must go pick out a book to bring with you to the doctor’s office.”
“Okay, Mama,” he said, and ran down the hall and disappeared around the corner.
“Hey, speaking of books,” Suzie said, anxious to change the subject, “Brooklyn here is a bookbinder, so if you have any books that need mending, she’s your gal.”
“You mend books for fun?” Lisa said.
“Occasionally for fun, but mainly for money. It’s my job. I repair and restore rare books. I also make new ones.”
“She teaches classes-that’s how good she is,” Suzie said, sounding like a proud parent. “You should see her studio. It’s amazing.”
“Everyone on our floor is creative,” I demurred. “Suzie and Vinnie are sculptors. Sergio is a chef. Jeremy is a hairdresser.”
“My goodness, so much talent,” Lisa said, then rolled her eyes as her children came laughing and running down the hall to find her. They gathered around her and Lisa pulled them closer. With a sigh, she said, “These little monsters are my works of art.”
“Oh, that’s sweet,” Suzie said.
