Chapter 20 Hello, Princess

Tuesday morning began with a hurried goodbye to Chris and Sherry, who both had to get an early start at work that day. Sherry and I made tentative plans for lunch and shopping on Saturday, and I had a momentary flashback to our last Saturday out, which had ended with my husband dead.

I left around 8:00, carefully setting their alarm and locking their front door behind me. I made a quick stop to pick up some laundry and cleaning supplies, plus a broom and a vacuum, then drove to my new temporary condo. I planned to spend the morning getting things in order, until the furniture and grocery deliveries arrived in the afternoon. I wanted to launder the new sheets and towels I'd purchased and run all of the new dishes through a cycle on the dishwasher, plus give things a quick wipe down. I knew it had all been professionally cleaned already, but I wanted to go over the kitchen and bathroom again myself.

I had just started the washer when Melissa called. She had gotten a call from Vanessa's defense attorney, regarding her possessions in the condo. Vanessa's relatives had declined to travel to Indiana to pack up and remove her things. He had informed Melissa that the family was already somewhat estranged, and Vanessa's arrest was the last straw for them.

"Well, that sucks for her then, doesn't it?" I said snidely, and Melissa just chuckled.

"You are free to enter the condo and inspect the premises after 4:00 pm today. The condo management office on the first floor has a key for you and have been told to expect you. I've scheduled the moving and storage company to come tomorrow morning to remove everything. The management office has a cleaning and handyman service that they use, so I've scheduled them to come in on Thursday and Friday to get it ready for Rachel to list. She's going to get photographs taken for the listing over the weekend, and it will go on the market Monday morning."

I was pleasantly surprised by how smoothly the process was going. In less than a week, Vanessa's presence would be erased from my property, although I knew she would be imprinted in my mind and soul for the rest of my life.

The rest of the morning went by quickly, and when my stomach growled a little before noon, I placed an order for lunch to be delivered from the Chinese restaurant a couple of miles away. I ate on the floor, since I had no furniture yet, and finished just in time for my grocery delivery to arrive. By the time everything had been brought to my door, grocery bags covered every inch of the kitchen countertop and island. I had just finished putting the perishable items in the refrigerator and freezer when the furniture delivery crew showed up. I was amazed at how quickly they worked, and within an hour, things were liveable, at least for the time being.

Once everyone was gone and the last of the groceries had been put away, I sank down onto the couch with a sigh, grateful that I didn't have to sit on the floor anymore. I checked my emails, finding one from the prosecutor's office asking me to come in the following Monday to go over my testimony. Rachel had sent over more house listings for me to look over, but nothing looked quite right for me.

Shortly before 4:00, I drove to the Meridian Street building, and got the key from the agent in the management office. When I unlocked the door and stepped inside, I wrinkled my nose at the faint, lingering scent of the perfume Vanessa had always doused herself with.

I walked into the kitchen first, to find counters cluttered with mail and assorted crap, a sink half full of dirty dishes, and a trash can overflowing with carryout food containers and empty liquor bottles. The living room wasn't much better, with magazines and more dirty dishes stacked on the coffee table and end tables. The master bedroom was a pigsty. Clothing was strewn everywhere. The woman obviously didn't own a clothes hamper or at least didn't know what it was for, as dirty clothes covered almost every inch of the floor.

Half a dozen black and dark blue dresses lay on the bed. It appeared Vanessa had trouble deciding what to wear to the funeral and had tried on several outfits that morning. The bathroom was a mess of damp, musty smelling towels wadded up on the floor, with every inch of the counter covered by expensive make-up, lotions, and hair products.

There were photos of David, and of her and David, scattered throughout the condo. There was one of the two of them snuggled up together in a bed, sitting on the bedside table. It was clearly a selfie, and they were both clearly naked under the sheet. More framed photos were displayed on the mantel, and I had to roll my eyes. In every single photo, David was smiling at the camera, while a simpering Vanessa was smiling up at him in complete adoration. I found an empty box next to the trash can and put the photos in there to take with me. I wasn't sure what I would do with them. Dousing them with gasoline and setting them on fire might be cathartic. Tearing them into tiny pieces and dropping them into the watery depths of our lake would be nice symbolism, too.

A glance at her jewelry box yielded an unpleasant surprise - a ruby cocktail ring that had belonged to my Grandma Flanagan. It had been a gift to her from my grandfather on their tenth wedding anniversary, and the vintage filigree setting had been designed specifically for her by the jeweler. I hadn't noticed it missing from my own jewelry box with everything going on. I debated calling James and Mike to report the theft but decided I didn't want to have the ring held as evidence, in case something happened to it. I picked it up and slid it on my left ring finger, giving a silent "fuck you" to David and Vanessa. I had no idea if she stole it on her own, or if David took it and gave it to her, and it didn't even really matter at this point.

A look through the shelves in the closet revealed a Prada handbag identical to one I had in the back of my closet, as well as a pair of Louboutin pumps that looked suspiciously familiar. I had spent days looking for both items a few months back, only to have David lecture me about how forgetful I had gotten. I didn't bother taking those back. I didn't want them after she had used them.

With a final look around the space that was as trashy and disgusting as Vanessa was, I picked up the box of photos and walked out, closing the door on this particular piece of nasty history.

Sherry called me later that evening to see how my day had gone, and I told her about finding the ring, purse, and shoes that Vanessa had stolen, as well as the pictures I had taken with me. She came up with a few creative ideas for them, including using them as a dartboard and photoshopping devil horns on David, and the word "whore" on Vanessa's forehead. I assured her we would figure out something suitably petty to do with them.

I reminded her that I was driving up to Chicago in the morning and would return Thursday evening or sometime Friday.

"Drive safely, and I'll see you Saturday. Maybe we can try that new Thai place downtown for lunch."

"Sounds good, I'll meet you there at noon," I said, before hanging up.

The following morning, I began the three hour drive to Chicago. Mom's house was in the Lincoln Park suburb, on a beautiful tree-lined street filled with stately homes and gorgeous architecture. I had always loved it. I put my small suitcase in the guest bedroom I always stayed in, then walked through the house room by room, making a list of everything that still needed to be done. I had already spoken to the realtor and had made arrangements to sell the house with all of the furnishings included, aside from a few pieces that had sentimental value. Those, I had already arranged to have shipped to Indianapolis. I had already donated all of Mom's clothing, shoes and housewares to a local organization that helped homeless mothers get back on their feet. All that was really left to pack up were photos, a few special books, and her jewelry, along with a few other odds and ends.

Since I had emptied out the refrigerator before leaving the last time, I ran to the neighborhood market to buy some snacks and drinks, along with some pastries for breakfast, and grabbed a sandwich at the nearby deli to take back for my lunch.

I ate lunch on the back patio, enjoying the mild weather. I planned to spend the rest of the day packing things up, leaving tomorrow free for me to explore the area and just relax and unwind from the stress I'd been under. I loved the Lincoln Park Conservatory and decided that would be the perfect place to wander around.

Later that evening, I was flipping through the TV channels while waiting for the pizza delivery. When the doorbell rang, I grabbed the cash that I'd gotten from my wallet for the tip and glanced through the peephole before opening the front door. The mouth-watering scent of the traditional Chicago deep-dish pizza wafted out of the box as the young man handed it over, and he thanked me for the generous tip. I closed the door with my hip, since my hands were full of the large, very warm box of pizza. I hurried to the kitchen to set it down, then grabbed a paper plate and napkins from the pantry.

I returned to the living room with my pizza and came to an abrupt halt, gasping at the sight of the tall, extremely well-built man stepping through the front door, which I hadn't stopped to lock again after the pizza was delivered.

He looked up and met my shocked stare with a look of apology. "Hello, Princess. Sorry if I startled you."

I closed my eyes for a moment, enjoying the sound of the deep voice with the faintest hint of an Irish brogue. "That's all right. I just wasn't expecting you. Did my Uncle Pat send you?"

"He did, indeed, although I would have come anyway once I realized you were in town."

He smiled then, and I thought - not for the first time - how handsome he looked when the normally stern lines of his face relaxed. He crossed the room and took the plate from me, setting it on the coffee table. He pulled me into his arms and hugged me, rubbing my back lightly as I relaxed against him.

I pulled away slightly and looked up at him. "It's good to see you, Liam," I said, gazing into the eyes of the man who had murdered my husband for me.