Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 46260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
I guess he would if he thought there wasn’t anyone around to care, notice, or challenge him. Maybe he truly thinks he’s that untouchable.
I keep my phone recording until he sets the rug flush against the fence and goes back through the back door. It’s because my house is so much taller than his that I can see into his yard at all. After he’s back in the house, I shut the video off and quickly send it to Leanne. I wait for all of two seconds before I text her.
Lu-Anne: See? Do you freaking see? He had his damn living room wrapped in plastic, and he came to the door with a pry bar, and now he’s taking out a rolled-up rug? Like, what is going on?? If that’s not sketchy, I don’t know what is! (skull emoji, skull emoji, skull emoji)
For good measure, I tack on the clown emoji and gun emoji because I find clowns downright scary, and the gun just makes sense. If only there was a blood splat emoji. That would be more helpful.
I realize—after I send the text— that I dropped my bowl of cereal. I’m not even sure how it happened, but it looks like a cereal bomb just went off, and that shit is sticky as hell when it dries. So, I run to the kitchen and grab a roll of paper towel to tackle the mess. I’m nearly done when my phone lights up. I grab for it with a hand that’s sticky with squished banana and milk.
Leanne: Okay, so the rug is weird, but that still doesn’t prove anything. Honestly, it just seems like he’s doing some renovations.
Lu-Anne: Why is he wearing black after dark then? Can’t exactly claim a sun allergy then!
Leanne: Maybe he didn’t change. Maybe he finds black comfortable. I don’t know. I can’t believe you actually installed cameras, though!
Lu-Anne: You suggested it!
Leanne: Still. Don’t you think you’re taking this a bit far? I mean, maybe the guy has a really sad backstory. Maybe he just likes wearing hoodies and black jeans and caps. It’s summer. People wear hats in summer. Maybe he doesn’t like the sun. And he’s probably renovating his house. All the places in your neighborhood were built in the ‘90s. It probably needs a refresher.
I grind my teeth and set my phone down on the coffee table. Like most of the furniture in my house, it’s antique. My grandma loved antique stuff. The only things that aren’t antiques are the couches, which are leather with recliners, and my bed because I do value comfort.
I let my hand linger on the table, running my fingers over the surface. My grandma had the table for years, and I have so many fond memories of us sitting in this same living room watching TV, playing cards, or doing crafts.
God, grandma, I miss you.
I always had Leanne, but my grandma was my other best friend. Losing her was hard.
I wish my grandma was here right now. She’d know what to do about the sketchy neighbor. She’d probably hatch a plan to bake him some chocolate chip cookies and bring them over just so she could check out his house and break in later.
“Oh!”
I spring up so fast that I nearly bang my arm on the coffee table. Instead, I get away with a warning graze. I stalk around the room—my phone and the spy screen in the corner completely forgotten.
That’s how I can get my evidence. I can prove Leanne wrong. I didn’t even get a chance to tell her about the weird blow-up sex doll, which is currently sitting at the bottom of my kitchen garbage can. I feel like I should have taken it out to the backyard and lit it on fire to get rid of the evidence, but I’m also sure plastic sets off some pretty toxic chemicals when it burns.
I give a little cry of triumph before I rush back upstairs to start gathering what I need to get a plan together.
That’s right. I’m not going down without a fight. I’m not going to end up in that plastic living room or rolled up in that rug. I’m not going to let anyone else go down like that either. I’m already a criminal since I stole and opened Mr. Mob’s mail.
Yes, I know breaking and entering is a felony. Or something. But I don’t plan on getting caught.
CHAPTER 9
Wade
I didn’t plan to start stripping the carpets in the house until after I’d finished the cabinets, but I got bored with the tedious sanding and painting job and decided to take a break by stripping the carpets from the bedrooms and hallway, up to the living room.
After I pulled up the carpet, which was actually pretty disgusting and decrepit, I had no idea what to do with it. I rolled up a few pieces and put them in the backyard, but I figured it was just a waste of time and energy.