My first reaction to her greeting was to retort with "Well, at such a warm greeting, of course, let's chat." Instead, I just stared at her with questioning eyes, but she seemed not notice. She just stood motionless, staring at me, waiting for my response. I nodded, and she appeared annoyed that I didn't respond verbally. I wasn't trying to be rude—my throat was still sore, and speaking was very painful.
"Privately, if possible, would be best," she huffed, her anger visibly increasing. I nodded again and took Zeke's hand to bring him along. Mrs. Chambers looked displeased that Zeke was joining us and told him, "I'm sorry, sir, but your presence will not be needed for this conversation. I only need to talk with the homeowner, Mrs. Sleighton." I couldn't help but be irritated by her voice. It wasn't her fault, but the high, nasal tone of it grated on my nerves.
Zeke and I were both taken aback by her attitude. Instead of reacting with anger by storming off or throwing something, I reached for my phone on the table. As I turned, I looked at each family member nearby; their faces showed frustration and disbelief at her disregard for my wishes. Andy, being the overprotective father he was, seemed inclined to confront her but refrained. Sharon appeared worried, while Donovan looked at her with disdain, indicating he disliked her as much as I did. I smiled to show I would handle the situation, and they nodded in understanding.
"We will be here if you need us," Uncle Donovan said quietly, so only I could hear; his fists were clenched at his side. Again, I smiled, letting him know I appreciated him. Standing up and turning towards Zeke and Mrs. Chambers, I typed quickly.
"I recently experienced an assault by my neighbor across the street and am currently unable to speak due to severe vocal cord damage. If you want to communicate with me, he is the one you need to speak to. Zeke is my voice, my partner, and my friend, and he lives here with me. Either he comes with us, or this conversation ends now, and you can leave just as you arrived." My words left no room for argument, but I questioned whether they were too harsh and quickly dismissed my worry. Her cold attitude irritated me and revealed my mean side. I turned my phone toward her so she could read my message. She stood there, her face twisted in frustration, finally realizing she would not win this argument. She sighed irritably and then looked at us.
"Fine, he may come," she said. Turning away from her, Zeke moved ahead of me toward the front door, holding my hand tightly, likely sensing my nervousness. Mrs. Chambers followed, her heels clicking on the porch's hardwood. Once inside, we led her to the living room, motioning her to sit in the dark leather chair opposite the couch from where Zeke and I sat. Crossing her legs, she leaned forward, her eyes fixed on mine, and then spoke.
"Thank you for taking the time to speak to me," she spouted. "I'm here on behalf of my boss, Mayor Dunhill. We recently heard of all the hardships you have faced since you moved in and were appalled by them," she said with no sincerity. I doubt she actually cared about any of it. "He wanted me to come and see if you were regretting your decision to buy this property and wondered if you would like to sell it back to the city?" Not once had that thought ever crossed my mind. Zeke and I looked at each other with the same surprised look. Neither of us expected this. Before we could answer, she continued and grabbed her leather bag, which she had set beside the chair. She pulled a manila envelope and handed it to me. I grabbed it before thinking and stared at it, dumbfounded.
"In this packet is an offer, a generous one at that. Take a few days to look it over and discuss it between yourselves. If it suits your needs, we can get the ball rolling right away," she says as if this were a done deal. My eyes were large and confused. Why would I sell my family's house, and why does the mayor care? These were questions I doubt she would answer. I started shaking my head no and trying to hand the envelope back to her. Mrs. Chambers just pushed it back towards me and pulled a business card from her bag. "Please read it before you decline. Here is my card. Call me when you have made a decision. I hope you make the right one," her tone was ominous and almost threatening. Zeke finally came out of his shock and stood.
"You can let your boss know that we will be declining his offer. Rocky does not plan to sell the property ever. Thank you for the offer, but I think you have overstayed your welcome, Mrs. Chambers, is it?" Zeke's tone was as angry as I felt. She was treating us like we were beneath her. She was not happy with his response and turned back to me.
"Mrs. Sleighton, is this your decision?" She asked, irritated by our quick response. I shook my head yes, but she continued, "I think you need to look over the offer and reconsider before completely turning us down. Take a few days and go over it thoroughly." This response irritated me further. I had made my decision, but it wasn't the one she wanted, so she kept pushing the offer on me.
"We will not be accepting your offer now or in the future. The next time you visit, please leave the threats at home. We do not respond to idle threats. Again, this conversation is over, so please see yourself out." His words were cold and direct. His tall frame shook with the anger I felt. Had she come in and politely talked to us, we may not have reacted as hostilely as we did. He gestured with his hands for her to go to the door. In a huff, Mrs. Chambers stood and was walking towards the door when she hesitated and stopped, then turned to face me.
"I'm not threatening you, Mrs. Sleighton, I'm just giving you some advice. The offer is really a solid one that benefits you. Please think it over. One piece of advice, next time we talk, leave your pitbull outside on the porch," she said in an emotionless tone. With that, she turned around and headed out the door, the clacking of her heels slowly fading.
The manila envelope felt heavy in my hand; I dropped it on the floor quickly. Like it had burned me. Zeke hurried back to my side and sat down next to me. Sliding his hand onto my shoulders, he pulled me toward him.
"Can you believe that woman?" Zeke said angrily, his fists clenching and unclenching. I placed my hand on his sleeve, causing him to look down and make eye contact with me, his face softening. His voice was gentle when he spoke: "Rocky, we won't sell. I know how much this house means to you." I felt relief and gratitude that he supported me, and a smile appeared on my face.
"Let's go back outside with everyone," he suggested. He bent down, picked up the envelope from the living room floor with one hand, then took my hand with the other. He helped me up and led me back out onto the porch to my family.
"Everything okay? That woman hurriedly left, muttering about ignorant ingrates," Andy asked, worry evident on his face. Donovan and Sharon leaned in, eager to hear our response, their curiosity overcoming them. Zeke and I sat back in the chair we had vacated earlier, with me once again sitting in his lap. He tossed the envelope onto the table and motioned for them to examine its contents.
"Apparently, her boss, Mayor Dunhill, is interested in repurchasing the property. He believed that, given everything Rocky had experienced here, she would be willing to sell and move away, but we declined. He obviously doesn't know how strong-willed our girl is," Zeke said lovingly as he pulled my forehead down to his lips. Andy and Sharon were going over the paperwork, exchanging looks and shaking their heads.
"This offer undervalues you. They intend to give only a small part of what you paid for the house and property. Something suspicious is happening, and I'm not just saying that because this woman arrived with my father," Andy said.
"I agree, sweetheart," Sharon said. "The mayor certainly appears eager to buy this place. I wonder what his reasons are?"
"Roxanne, be cautious around him and his secretary," Donovan said nervously. I tilted my head at him, curious about why he was so anxious. He continued to look at me, showing a mix of worry, affection, and fear. I then turned my phone towards him as I typed.
"Why, Uncle? Do you know him?" I asked, feeling curious.
"Not personally, I only met him a few times as a teenager," he explained. "Initially, he was always friendly—after all, he was younger then. However, during his last few visits to my father's house, he left angrily, slamming the door. My father advised me to stay away from him, calling him dangerous. He didn't give more details, and I was too scared to ask." Donovan appeared lost in thought as he finished speaking.
"He visited my house often, also," Andy admitted. "I never liked him; he always had this evil vibe flowing off of him. He wears a different mask for the public of a happy, nice man, but when he was with my dad, laughing and drinking beer, he had this evil look in his eyes," he explained. "My mother always made me leave the room when he was over. I think she knew something was off about him, too."
"Do you think he has something to do with the people who attacked our family?" I typed it out and showed it to them.
"I wouldn't cross him off the list of suspects. He is a good candidate," Donovan said. Everyone's mood had dampened with the visit of an unwanted person. As soon as I got my voice, I would call and decline the offer for a second time. I tapped the table by my uncle and showed him my phone.
"Did you get ahold of Agent Williams about Betty and Samuel?" I was curious and hoped a change of topic would help dispel the gloomy feeling. He shook his head yes.
"He said he could meet us tomorrow, either here or somewhere of our choosing," Donovan replied.
"Tomorrow here if that is good for you," was my response.
"I'll call him back and set up a time," he said as he grabbed his phone and headed off the porch for a quiet place to call.
"Roxanne, are you going to be ok staying here?" Asked Sharon. The concern in her eyes shone brightly as she gazed at me.
"Of course," I typed. "Plus, I have my pitbull here," I typed jokingly and smirked.
Zeke carefully moved my phone closer to him, curious to see what I found so amusing. As he glimpsed the comment on the screen, a smirk spread across his face. It was a fitting description of his personality. He was inherently overprotective of the people he loved, always wary and ready to defend those close to him.
Leaning close to my ear, he whispered, "I'll be anything you need me to, baby girl." His voice and breath against my ears tickled, causing shivers to flow down my back. His smirk grew brighter, and he sat back against the chair, chuckling. Andy just looked at us, shaking his head and smiling.
"ok guys, quit being cute, no father should have to see the lovey-dovey stuff," Andy retorted good-naturedly. We were all laughing when Donovan finally came back.
"The meeting is all set for tomorrow at 9:45 am. Do you guys mind if I stay tonight? Driving clear back home would be pointless since I would have to get up really early in the morning," he asked. Before I could type a yes to him, Zeke answered for me.
"Of course, as long as you're not afraid of ghosties. You're more than welcome to stay," Zeke stated.
"Ghosts don't bother me, plus it's my family haunting you," he laughed.
"Well, we seem to have a new one who showed up tonight, and he didn't seem to want to be friends," Zeke explained.
"We will stay at the hotel in town. I don't think I can spend another night here for a while after the past few days," Sharon said apologetically. Andy smiled reassuringly at her, letting her know he was ok with the decision.
"I'm not worried or scared of the paranormal," Donovan was laughing, then he turned serious. "Oh, by the way, Williams might have a lead on Betty and Samuel. Someone contacted the bureau using their names, saying they were looking for their biological family. He will explain it more to us tomorrow."