Got no face now.
Got no name now.
— Boogie
I bought a house.
More specifically, I bought Steve's house.
Yet more specifically, and brutally honestly, I bought Steve's house with Steve's money. Apparently, his parents were having trouble selling it due to a horrific homicide which took place in the foyer. That brought the price way down, especially since I offered cash.
Steve's cash. Shhhhh.
The house was near Purdue University's northwest campus, just outside of Gary. Technically, in Hammond. In fact, there's a technical school nearby. Lots of students.
The house had two bedrooms, a decent kitchen, a living room and a basement with a back room that was perfect for a workshop. It even had a lockable door.
I used what was left of Steve's money to buy a hot tub for the garage.
I also bought a used HPC Speedex manual key duplicator from a guy named Earl, who taught me how to use it in exchange for the unspoken opportunity to constantly look down my shirt. Fair enough.
The plan was simple.
I had a list of marks and a picture for each, but I'd make sure I was with Ambeclaire when we found one of 'em. No mistakes. Then I'd go home to wait. If the guy took the bait, she'd bring him over for fun in the hot tub.
They'd get somewhat undressed in her room, then wrap in a towel or whatever to go to the hot tub. Naked? Undies? Didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was, the guy would leave his wallet and keys in her room. He'd have no idea I was there too.
While they were in the garage, enjoying the hot tub, I'd be in the basement, making a copy of his keys. I'd steal nothing from his wallet. I just needed to get his address off his driver's license.
To make sure Amberclair was extra-motivated, I decided to let her move into the house. No charge. Giving her a place to stay would mean she'd need me. She'd be in my debt.
We were partners, but I was the boss.
And she needed this to work.
The sale on Steve's house closed. Signed, sealed, and paid in full. With his cash, which I was glad to part with.
The keys were mine. I'd seen them before.
In an attempt to not dwell on that, foolish enthusiasm got the better of me. I had Ambeclaire meet me there, but she arrived first. When I saw her in the driveway, as I arrived, I suddenly remembered what we were walking into.
Oh God.
"I'm glad you're a whiskey drinker," I said. "The last owner of this house was into wine. Red wine stains. Bad. Like, real bad."
We were standing at the door while I pretended to be excitedly fumbling with the keys. I was worried about what we'd find when we opened it. Steve's Steveness had surely been cleaned up, but how well?
"I hear the last owner dropped a case of wine right in the foyer, on their way out, and it was a big mess. I already know I'm gonna need a rug until I can get the floor refinished, or whatever."
Gonna need a rug.
Gonna need a rug.
Gonna need a biiiiig muhfuggin' rug ruggin' rug.
She said, "Yeah, sure. A rug will make the place feel personal."
And cover up what's left of a person?
Shay, don't.
Please, don't.
Whoa, don't say that.
The key went in. The door was opened. My mouth was too. Oh, no.
"Oh, whoa. Oh, wow. Oh, it's bad. Gonna need a rug, ASAP, wow. Did I already say wow? More wow. But that's why the house was so cheap."
"The house was cheap because they broke some wine bottles on the way out?" Ambeclaire asked.
Whoops.
"Oh. No. The previous owner was pretty much gone, like, instantly, but their stuff was around for a while before anybody found it. I mean, they moved away fast but were stuck with the place. I don't know. No. No no."
Must. Stop. Talking.
Foke could tell I was a wee bit squeamish about what happened to Steve. I thought I was ok with it, until Boogie said, "Ain't no mo' Steve. Got no face now. Got no name now."
Ain't no more Steve, indeed. This was now Shay's house.
"The previous owners just wanted to get rid of it," I said. "So they accepted a low offer. I got a good deal."
Ambeclaire said, "It doesn't smell like red wine, though. What is that?"
I was glad she didn't know.
"Let's open the windows. Right now. All of 'em. Wow."
For the record, I started calling her Ambeclaire because she was using both names intermittently, and combining them the other way was... not good.
Please don't make me say it.
Oh, come on.
OK, fine.
Clamber.