There was also a countertop pressure cooker and a mini-fridge and a microwave, but weirdly no espresso machine.That, Mason found as they walked farther inside. It was set up on a frankly lovely little wet bar area in the main living space. The floors everywhere were, as David had warned, pretty rough. They were luxury vinyl plank, which was fine. Cost effective,and they looked decent enough, trying to imitate hickory floors, but every step felt like slipping on ice. The flooring hadn’t been installed properly, that much was certain, and if it was like that everywhere, they might very well be putting some contractor on blast for doing a job this crappy.
But the living area looked pretty finished, actually. The couch was a strange shape, with an uneven back. It was bright turquoise, with ivory accents. The rug beneath it and the coffee table was black, which helped set the space completely apart. There was a fireplace with a TV hung above it, which Mason would have to have a talk about—far as he was concerned, putting a TV over the fireplace was blasphemy—and the wet bar was tucked away in the back, with a mirrored wall behind the sink.
If Mason was just looking at that, he doubted he would have been bothered at all. If anything, he might have been a bit more annoyed at Eliza and Homescapes, because the living space was well-beyond competent.
They reached the first bedroom and, sure enough, there was no going in there safely. Boxes and bags piled up to the ceiling, intermixed with half-painted canvases, open bags of clay that looked like they were too dry to be useful anymore, some camera equipment that had clearly been neglected, and at least one quilt still on the hoop, with pins and thread sticking out all around it.
The next room they reached was the bathroom, which was mostly drywall, no sink, and no fixtures in the shower. Robinson shook his head. “He really did start, didn’t he?” He gestured toward the one-foot section of the wall that had actually been tiled. They certainly made a statement, but Mason wasn’t convinced it was a statement he loved. Not that his tastes were the be-all, end-all, especially on the job, but he wouldn’t have gone for a purple and pink guest bathroom theme. And therewere alotof those tiles, mostly still in boxes in the middle of the floor.
There was a closet for a washer and dryer, but it was instead packed with more stuff. Mason was gathering very quickly that David had a lot of hobbies. Some of what he saw was absolutely stunning. The one quilt hadn’t been finished, but the closet had a small quilted wall-hanging. A huge bird of paradise flower on a white background stitched with star bursts in exacting detail. And he had it in his closet. There was the Chemex, complete with the aforementioned rocks, but David hadn’t mentioned the porcelain coffee cups he’d attached that the water would ostensibly flow into. Maybe a bit garish, but there was something interesting about it.
Still, most everything was unfinished. The master bedroom appeared to be David’s makeshift studio, with a canvas smeared in blood red currently on the easel. That was only on Mason’s mind for a second, though. Then his eyes drifted to the walls, to more artwork.
Nude artwork. Tasteful, to be certain, and not overly realistic, but the naked male form was very clear in the sweeps of black, white, and gray on those canvases. Once again, they were stunning.
The master bath was in a similar state of disarray, with no fixtures anywhere, a cracked sink…and a massive hole in the wall, covered by ratty tarp. The tiles on the floor were broken in more places than they were whole.
“Okay, I’m going to say it.” Ozzy tossed his arms to his sides. “Where is this guy showering? Because it’s certainly not in his house.”
“No, it doesn’t seem to be.” Mason tapped his tongue off the roof of his mouth. “We’re agreeing to approach that delicately, right?”
“I’m not going to be a dick to him.” Ozzy snorted. “Might be a dick to whoever agreed to sell him this place in this condition. In fact, I plan on it.”
“Well, let’s not jump to those conclusions.” Aras shook his head, arms crossed as he leaned against the closet door. Not the one that was actually over the bedroom closet, but the one that had been pulled off the track and was now up against a wall. “Could be that David started all these projects and this place was in perfectly good shape before he moved in.” He pointed to an outlet next to him. “Also, half the circuits in this place seem to be dead. One more thing unfinished.”
Thatwas it. Aras had plucked the point out of the mess. There were pockets of truly amazing things in this place, but most of it was half-finished, at best. Mason couldn’tstandunfinished projects. Each one was a lead weight on his thoughts, making it hard to do or think about anything else. It made what should have been a sanctuary feel like complete chaos. That, combined with the sheer lack of functionality in the condo…it had to be a miserable way to live.
At least we’re here for a good reason.
Chapter six
David
“Theelectricalhasalwaysbeen fussy, but it’s fine.” They’d gathered together in David’s living room once the guys finished their walkthrough. They’d brought in their own folding chairs, even though David insisted he could pick some up. It wouldn’t hurt to have seating for guests anyway. “I was using the chance to try and redo some of the lighting, but…well, you can see how well I managed that. I got frustrated and just sort of stopped.”
Aras nodded. “So you got sold shitbox.”
David shrugged. “A shitbox with an incredible view and a hell of a price tag. I overestimated my capacity to fix things up, and I overestimated my ability to find a good contractor to do what I couldn’t. That’s on me.” David gestured out the floor-to-ceiling windows to the Puget Sound. “But how can you put a price on somethingthisgorgeous?”
Aras snorted. “Hey, you’re just lucky we made it here. I have a nasty suspicion that your wiring is one stray spark from lighting up this whole building. And if I’m right, I’m havingwordswith whoever controls the condo complex. Or the city. Or the former owner. Whoever can give me the proper head on a pike.”
“Easy, champ.” Mason patted Aras’s wrist. “So, obviously we have some work to do here. If you’re ready, we want to bring inourcontractors.” He winked. “If they look familiar, shout and jump up and down so we can find someone else. But we vet pretty well and haven’t had an issue yet.”
David chuckled. “I’ll make it very obvious if something looks hinky.” He scanned the living room and everyone in it. “I’m good if you are. Just tell me where to be to not get in the way.”
“Oh, we’re putting you to work.” Ozzy cracked his knuckles, the sound like firecrackers in the open-concept condo. “We’ve got a big moving truck that we’re going to use to store everything, and we’re looking for all hands on deck to move stuff downstairs.”
David nodded. “All right. Just don’t be shocked if I collapse.” He pressed the back of his hand to his forehead. “I’m more frail than one of those Victorian romance heroines.”
“Don’t worry,” said Mason. “We’ll keep you away from any particularly strong breezes or overstuffed pillows.”
“I was more referring to being too beautiful.” David lifted his chin and tried to make himself look as good as he could. “I’m sure I read a book where someone died from being beautiful.”
“Pretty sure that was tuberculosis.” Mason got up and clapped his hands. “And if you have TB, we have bigger problems than moving your couch.”
“Worth a try.” David rose as well. “All right, point me in the right direction.”
The others all moved off, already beginning to gather stuff and get going, but Mason approached him once again. “All thepaintings in your bedroom. I don’t want to have just anyone handling those, so if you could take that on for now?”
