I See You

Chapter Sixteen

Emma sneezed for the fifth time. "I hate dust bunnies," she groaned as she continued to swipe at the high ceiling corners. The three of them had returned to the house almost two hours ago, and she'd been trying to keep busy ever since. "Seriously it's not personal guys, you don't gotta go home, but ya can't stay here," she muttered, swiping down another sickly gray colored strand.
She wasn't going to wonder where the heck Cody was, because she was a grown, independent woman. Emma refused to become one of those women who fretted every time her man was out of sight.

When they'd stopped for takeout, she'd oh so casually asked if Cody was coming for dinner, because she needed a headcount and Tony said he was stuck at work. Okay, it made sense the guy had a job, but as silly as it sounded she actually missed having him around.

Nope! Emma shook herself. She wasn't going to obsess over this because the death of her Gramps had made her act like a crazy, clingy female. It wasn't who she was as a woman, and certainly as a person. Her Grammy and Gramps had taught her to be self reliant. Not someone who couldn't do anything on her own.

Now granted she was always emotionally close and did tend to dote on the people loved, she'd never considered herself to be needy. Emma gulped and sneezed to clear away the dust she'd inhaled. It wasn't that she loved Cody, but she liked him. A whole lot.

Gah! "Get a grip Emma," she said, closing her eyes for a moment in thought, working to ignore the tickle in her nose from the swirling dust.

Music! She needed something to distract her from all this useless thinking that was only going to cause her more trouble in the long run.

She was being ridiculous. Cody was interested, he'd made that very clear. Emma was interested as well, but she couldn't think about starting a relationship now. Not until the person who killed Gramps was caught, then...well then she'd be up for anything and everything where he was concerned.

Emma smacked her forehead as she caught the hamster wheel beginning to spin in her mind again. Cleaning. Organizing this house. Getting ready for the memorial dinner in two days. Those were the only things on her to-do list. Not relationships with a certain dreamy detective with those sexy grins that made her weak in the knees.

Emma walked from the parlor, leaning her long handled dust mop against the wall. She located her bag on the hall table and pulled out her phone, dug around until she found her ear buds. Music had always been a go to for her in cases where she needed her mind to go into a strange sort of free spin.

She opened her music application and found her favorite playlist and hit shuffle. The upbeat song began and she stuffed her phone in her back pocket and returned to work annihilating the bunnies hiding around the one hundred twenty year old trim.
She sang along quietly as she dusted, making her way from the parlor into the entryway, where she'd need a ladder to reach these ceiling corners. After finding a spot to leave her dust mop Emma made her way to the basement access under the stairs. She paused to look at the gleaming dining room table and chairs. Cindy had obviously gotten to this room. The partially hidden door to the back service stairs stood just inside the old butler's pantry.

Most people didn't realize that there were actually two sets of stairs that led up, but Grammy hadn't ever allowed her to play or use the secluded set. She'd claimed it was because they were so very steep and narrow.

As Emma thought about it she realized that a tall heavy wardrobe was probably blocking the upstairs door. Maybe she could open it now. If for no other reason than to have a second escape from the second floor in case of a fire or something.

Putting the idea away for another time Emma made her way onto the wooden steps that led down into the darkened maw of the basement below the house. The slight scent of dust and stale air filled her nose. She'd never actually liked coming down here, hated it was a better way of saying it. This place along with any other closed in spaces reminded her way too much of the closets her mother had always forced her into.