Chapter Thirty-Eight
The pendulum of the most roller-coastery day of my life swings back to craptastic as I realize, seconds after Piper drives away, that I left my house key on my dining table. After confirming that both my front and back doors are locked, I schlep down to my property manager’s office to borrow the spare. Sure enough, he’s not there, so I park my butt on the cement outside and wait.
Twenty minutes later, the guy I semi-affectionately call Walrus Ted because of his ridiculous mustache and squashy body returns. I’m too tired to snark, so I play humble when asking for the key. He gives it to me with the instruction to return it “or else.”
A brief inspection of my townhome provides some relief. It looks like Tim conducted a search of my belongings after breaking in, but he
