“But why?”
“Because I’m thinking that if there’s a guard on duty, our intruder won’t come back. And I really want to catch him in the act.”
“That’s a really bad idea.”
“I mean, I want the police to catch him. Not me. The police.”
“Sure,” she said, clearly not believing me.
“I mean it. I’ve learned my lesson.”
“Look,” Jane said. “If this guy is desperate to find the necklace, nothing will deter him. He’ll be back.”
“But if he sees a guard walking around wearing a uniform, he’ll leave and maybe he’ll give up. And I want him to come back. Does that make sense?”
“I’m afraid it does in a sick and twisted way.”
“Right. Because it’s almost a guarantee that whoever broke into Jesse’s house is the same person who killed him.”
Her lips puckered into a stubborn pout, but finally she said, “Yeah, okay. I’ll wait a few days. But I still don’t want you going in there again without the police around.”
“Believe me, I got that message.”
“I don’t think you did.”
“I did.” I confessed to her about Eric’s lecture and how miserable it made me feel.
“You never told me.”
“I felt humiliated. But he was right. It was stupid to go over there without calling the police first.”
“I agree,” Jane said, smiling brightly.
“Thanks.” I picked up the newspaper and studied the headlines. War. Disease. Destruction. Degradation. A day like any other day. I set the paper down and sighed. “I’d better get to work.”
“I’ll be leaving shortly,” Jane said. “I’ll probably spend the night at home.”
“I’ll miss having you here.”
I gave her a hug, then fed Robbie and Tiger, who were delirious with gratitude. At least Robbie was. Tiger was much too dignified, but she still seemed happy with her food. I filled up a thermos with iced tea and finally left for work. Since it was Saturday, I only had one construction site to visit today and I planned to spend most of the day there.
Twenty minutes later, I parked my truck in front of the Stansbury home, a frothy pink gingerbread confection that stood on a rise overlooking Lighthouse Cove and North Beach. From there, you could see our famous lighthouse and most of the coastline for miles in either direction.
The old pink Victorian had weathered well and the walls and exterior siding were still in good condition. The Stansburys insisted on having the house painted every few years to maintain its perky pink hue. They had four young daughters, and those little girls loved living in a pink house. And who could blame them? I happened to be a big fan of the color pink myself. I owned every type of pink tool known to womankind, plus a pretty pink hard hat, goggles, tool belt, the whole deal. It was fun to be a girl contractor.
It wasn’t the house itself but the roof that was causing problems for the Stansburys, and we were in the process of giving them a brand-new one. In many cases, this simply entailed adding another layer of shingles onto the existing roof. But the Stansburys’ roof had been replaced numerous times in the past, so a lot of the existing layers were beginning to rot from dampness and termite damage. We had recommended removing all of the old shingles and all the decaying layers beneath the surface and putting down an entirely new roof. Happily they had agreed.
They had also agreed to go with a lighter-colored shingle this time around. The existing black roof looked dramatic against the pink, but black roofs retain more heat in the summer without having the same insulating effect in the winter when the sun’s rays are diffused and indirect. The Stansburys would also get a generous government rebate if they used the lighter shingles and thus conserved more energy, so they were all for that.
The pale gray shingles I recommended looked beautiful against the pink wood and the white trim. I knew the family would be thrilled when the job was done.
I grabbed a few tools out of the truck bed and strolled up the long front walk, gazing up at the roof the whole time. Victorian roofs were notoriously steep, so we had constructed a massive pipe scaffolding across the front of the house and had also brought in our hydraulic lift to reach some of the trickier spots. I didn’t like my guys climbing on roofs, although most of them thought it was the most fun part of the job.
And, of course, to do the job right, they had to stand directly on the roof, so I insisted that they all wear tethered safety harnesses. There was a lot of good-natured complaining, but that didn’t matter to me. These days, my site could be shut down if a building-and-safety inspector happened to cruise by and see one of my guys working on a pitched roof without a harness.