“Thanks for all the help, Rex. Really.”
Seconds later, he was pulling out of the driveway and gone.
“Tootsie, that’s one hell of a friend I’ve got there. You were such a good girl. Let’s get you outside and then get you a special treat.”
Tootsie’s tail wagged in eager agreement. Ashley thought, not for the first time, how very smart dogs were.
Chapter Sixteen
Having Rex’s company the night before drove home the point again of how much she missed a male point of view on things and male companionship in general. Somehow, she seemed to be getting sexual gratification during her dreams, but who knew how long that would continue? She needed a man in her life. Despite how she dominated in a typically male career, she always freely admitted to her friends that she felt most comfortable as part of a couple. Her life with Brody had been perfect, she always believed. They had wonderful companionship, satisfying if not earth-shattering sex, and a calm consistency that they both thrived on. She desired something like that again. But would be looking for more satisfaction in the bedroom now that her dreams had taught her what sex could really feel like. Plus, she wanted someone she could trust never to cheat on her as Brody had done. That was the hardest criteria of all. How would she ever be able to trust again?
She’d talk to her brother, Jordan, and his wife, Barb, about it that weekend. Maybe they knew someone the right age to hook her up with. She certainly didn’t want to find someone at a bar. Since she had finished the McLaughlin home, all she had on her list for the day was to go through the house with them and discuss any issues they had found after inspecting the work. After that, she’d be free for ten days before starting her next job. She could go to Vermont and help Rex with his project, but he suggested she use the time to work on her place. He’d inspected what she’d accomplished so far and was impressed by her progress.
“You keep up this pace, and you’ll have it finished by Christmas,” he said.
“That’s the plan, Stan,” she answered him with a huge smile, feeling that it would be so nice to have it complete and decorated the way she wanted by then. She might even consider having it added to the Annual Chamber of Commerce Christmas Home Tour. Some of the grandest homes in Nashua opened up to the community for tours on one of the weekends during the holiday season and ticket sales went to charity. The homes were decorated by local florists. So she had a goal; normally, Ashley met her goals.
The McLauglins had only two small adjustments they requested to be made, and Ashley was able to make them before leaving their home. There were hugs and promises of a great review on the company website as she left their home.
She stopped at the local paint and wallpaper store and got some supplies she needed for her house. That afternoon she planned to start stripping wallpaper in a spare bedroom that she hadn’t painted when she first moved in because she knew she wouldn’t be using the room for a long time.
The paper, it turned out, wasn’t one layer, but at least six. Owner after owner had just slapped on another layer of wallpaper without stripping off the old paper. These weren’t professionals for sure. It was going to take not only her wallpaper stripping equipment but lots of elbow grease to get that room down to the bare wall. Tootsie sat on an old beach towel that Ashley placed in whatever room she was working in. Her dog loved to be wherever she was and liked to watch her work.
She talked to her as she went along, explaining the process she was using and complaining about how stupid it was to layer the paper on top of each other. “If people only knew how difficult they were making it for the next person, Tootsie, they wouldn’t do this.”
Then she laughed. “They probably would, figuring they’d be long gone from the house before they had to worry about changing the wallpaper again. One thing about wallpaper, people don’t change it as often as they do paint. It’s too much work.”
As usual she worked right through lunchtime, but finally quit around six o’clock, brushed herself off, and took Tootsie out for a quick walk around the neighborhood. Most days they ran, but sometimes they walked. She enjoyed the walks with Tootsie; she found it was an excuse to talk with her neighbors. They were always asking about the progress she was making on the house. Some of the neighbors had lived in the area for decades and had seen owners come and go from her home. They seemed both surprised and pleased that she was committed to staying there.
With all the work she was doing on the place, she didn’t think she’d ever leave. When they arrived back at the house, she heated some leftover lasagna, fed Tootsie, and said, “It’s been an easy day just working here. I’m up for getting more done. You in?”
Tootsie tilted her head and wagged her tail then ran to the room she’d been working in all day. “I guess that answers my question,” Ashley said and laughed.
Ashley got as far as she could on the inside wall using the electric stripper and then used a hand scraper and finally a hand sander. When she did, Tootsie growled. At first it was a low rumble from deep inside her that could hardly be heard over the sander, but suddenly the wall broke open in one spot, and Ashley said, “Shit!”
That was always her reaction when a plaster wall gave in because it usually meant the entire wall had to be redone with sheetrock replacing the old plaster. She put the sander down, but Tootsie’s growls became ceaseless barks. She turned to her pet and said, “Chill, Tootsie, it’s not as bad as it looks. Momma can fix it.” The dog didn’t stop. Instead she kept barking, locked her tail between her legs, and backed up as far into the wall behind her as she could go. When Ashley turned to see what Tootsie was looking at, a man covered in plaster dust, dressed in slacks and a shirt was coming toward her from the wall.
“Stop. Stop,” she yelled and backed up too. Then Tootsie stopped barking, ran forward, showed her teeth, and growled at the intruder like she wanted to eat him alive.
He put his hand up and said, “I’m Perry, I’m not going to hurt you, Ashley. I promise.”
“How do you know my name? How did you get in here? I set the burglar alarms.”
“I live here in these walls. I’ve been here all along.”
She looked closely at him then. She couldn’t tell what color his hair was because he was covered in cracked and chalky plaster, but he was about five feet and ten inches tall with wide shoulders, a strong profile, and who the hell knew what color eyes because they seemed to be sunken in. She couldn’t tell his skin color because of the dust. His clothes were filthy.
“Who are you?”
“I’m Perry Lucier.”
“The Perry Lucier, who was killed by his crazy wife here in this house?” she asked.
“That very same.”
Ashley backed farther away, and Tootsie continued to growl. “I don’t believe you. I don’t believe in ghosts.”
“You need to. I’m here. I’m real. I can’t move on because my crazy wife shot me, buried me in that wall, and without a proper burial, my soul can’t move on.”
“So, you want me to believe I’m to bury you, and you’ll leave?”
Ashley felt herself up and down and pinched her cheeks to be certain she hadn’t fallen asleep after working all day. What was happening couldn’t be happening, could it?