Chapter 75

After hanging up the phone, Rosemary called the cops, and sure enough, the boys in blue showed

up in ten. They got the scoop and shooed the landlord and her posse away.

As the grumbling faded into the distance, so did Rosemary’s sleepiness. She plopped down cross-

legged on the couch and fired up a website to hunt for a new pad.

Tonight's face-off made it crystal clear – she was done living here.

Just as she spotted a decent place and was about to dive into the details, her phone buzzed – it

was an unknown number from overseas.

Rosemary didn’t have pals abroad, and in the past, she might have written it off as a scam and

hung up. But this time.

She stared at the digits and got deep in thought until the call was nearly dropped. Then she slid to

answer, "Hello?"

Larry's voice came through, familiar yet foreign, "Rosemary, it’s Dad."

She’d had a hunch. Irritated, she cut to the chase, "What do you want?"

"If it wasn’t for getting Mom’s stuff back, I wouldn’t have even bothered picking up!"

Steaming, Larry had to take a few deep breaths to keep his cool, "Your sister called me yesterday,

and it seems she’s got a thing for Martin. Find a good time to set up a dinner, and get them to

meet."

Rosemary stayed silent; she had figured it was something like this.

Thinking he had a shot, Larry started to work his angle, "Look, I know you’ve been through a lot, but

you and Stacey are blood sisters after all. You might have married into the Templeton family, but for

that Mr. Templeton, you’re just a rag – easy to toss aside, right? But with your sister marrying

Martin, she could have your back and make sure you’re set for life even if Mr. Templeton is hell-bent

on divorcing you."

Rosemary cut to the chase, "Give me Mom’s things."

"I’ve brought all that stuff to Mystoria. International shipping’s a pain, what if it gets lost?"

What stuff? The sellable bits were sold, and the rest were trashed!

"Then we’ve got nothing to talk about."

Click. She hung up. But Larry was on the line again in a heartbeat.

"I’ll send it. Get on with the introductions; your sister can’t wait."

This time his voice was cold, laced with disgust, not even pretending to be nice.

After a pause, Rosemary asked, "Where were you the night Mom had the accident?"

"I’ve told you a million times, your grandma felt sick, so I went to see her."

"You left at eight but didn’t get to the old house until eleven."

The Chambers' place was just a half-hour drive from the old house. Rosemary remembered clearly

that her mom’s accident happened after nine; she was in a speeding taxi that crashed into a parked

truck.

Lights were half off because of the roadworks, which made the visibility poor. The truck was illegally

parked without lights on, so both drivers were at fault.

But Mom usually drove herself. Around that time, Larry had a project near her workplace, so he

always drove there and offered to pick her up.

Except that night – and Mom had the accident!

Larry, furious, spat out, "The cops said it was an accident, and you still won’t let it go. What, you

think I killed your mom? If you hadn’t upset your grandma that day, would she have felt sick? If she

hadn’t, wouldn’t I have picked up your mom? If anyone’s to blame for your mom’s death, it’s you!”

He hung up, and Rosemary, fighting back emotions, bit her lip.

She spent the whole night awake, with Mom’s smile haunting her thoughts.

The next morning, Rosemary headed straight to the real estate agency to check out listings; she

picked one nearby, and the landlord could come sign the lease after work.

After sorting the house stuff, she went to pack up, but right out the elevator, she spotted a guy who

looked shady standing by her door and messing with the lock.

She grabbed a fire extinguisher, "What the heck are you doing at my door?"

The guy, who had been focusing on the lock, jumped at her voice and spun around to face her.

In a hurry, he explained, "Don’t get it twisted, I’m here to pick the lock for your landlady; she is your

mom, right? She was just here, and went to take a call."

Rosemary’s face went cold, "I’m the tenant, and the lease ain’t up; she has no right to have

someone break in."

Before she could finish, the landlady popped out from the stairwell, "It's my house, I’ll do what I want

with it, I’m not renting to you anymore, get out!"

"You wanna spend a few nights at the police station again?"

The mere mention of the station took the wind out of the landlady’s sails.

"Look, I’ve got urgent business to sell the house; you can’t be unreasonable! How about this, I’ll

give you back all your rent and deposit, considering the time you stayed on the house!"

"No need for freebies, I’ll move when the lease is up."

"Please, I’m begging you!" the landlady wailed, snotty and teary-eyed.

Thanks to that drama, Rosemary showed up to sign the lease that evening with luggage in tow.

Bold as brass, the landlady wanted to break in by day; who knows what she would do at night. It

was time to bail.

When Rosemary arrived, the new landlord hadn’t shown up yet. After a short wait, the agent

approached with an apologetic face, "Sorry Ms. Chambers, the landlord’s not renting anymore."

Rosemary frowned; it was so sudden, so like someone she knew!

That damn Maxwell!

Cursing him in her head, she asked the agent, "What if I rent another place?"

"Sorry Ms. Chambers, we don’t have anything suitable for you right now."

From pick of the litter in the morning to nothing by evening, Rosemary saw it coming; without

bothering fighting, she just left with her suitcase.

On her way out, she shot Maxwell a message.

"I’d rather sleep under a bridge than let you get your way!"

"If you're such a hotshot, go ahead and corner the market on all the houses in the world. Otherwise,

you're nothing in my eyes."

"You jerk, you scumbag, I hope you prematurely shoot the gun in Victoria's bed!"

She sent three messages in a row, each one dancing on Maxwell's last nerve.