Page 102 of Till Death Do Us Part
An unexpected sense of pride in the man I married flooded my system. “He has.”
Dante squeezed my hand and let it go. “It’s good to see you smile. Your home is beautiful.Thisis the marriage you deserve, Mia.”
“Maybe I had to have the other one first to appreciate this one. Despite everything I said before the marriage, I’m happy, and I know that’s because of Aléjandro.”
Giovanni pulled the car into a parking lot in front of a long limestone one-story building. Weeds poked through cracks in the concrete, and there was graffiti on the exterior walls.
A petite woman in a sheath dress and heels waved as she scurried by our car on her way up the sidewalk to the front doors, juggling papers and a tablet in her grasp.
“That’s our realtor,” I whispered as Dante and I got out of the car. I brushed against his back, feeling his holster. “You’re armed?” I whispered.
“Always.”
“She’s about one hundred pounds soaking wet. I don’t think she’s a threat.”
My brother only growled, a low rumble that I remembered was his way of saying no one is safe. If I had to guess, besides the gun, Dante had at least two knives sheathed somewhere under his clothes.
“Mrs. Mancini,” the realtor said as we approached, shoving her hand my direction. “Nice to meet you. I’m Rennie.”
“Ms.” I corrected. “And this is my business partner, Edoardo Barone.”
She smiled approvingly at my brother, who had a way of garnering the attention of women of all ages. She offered him her hand.
“Thank you for seeing us,” Dante said as they shook, his professional tone perfected by years of practice.
The petite woman spoke a mile a minute as she unlocked the front door to the school. “This was a shocker. The city closed this school a few years ago due to decreased enrollment, and there’s been no activity or interest. You can imagine our surprise when we heard from Mr. Lombardi.” Mr. Lombardi was the famiglia’s attorney who specialized in real estate. Rennie continued talking, not pausing for either of us to comment.
The musty stench of an abandoned structure combined with what could only be described as the pungent ammonia scent of urine hit us as we stepped beyond the second set of glass doors. A knot caught in my throat as my stomach revolted. Dipping my chin, I fought the urge to cover my mouth and nose. It had obviously been a while since this place had seen life that wasn’t of the rodent variety.
“I’m sorry about the odor,” Rennie said. “We didn’t have time to air out the building.” She pointed to the glass separation. “Security doors. Of course you can do whatever you want with…well, anything, once it’s yours. What are your plans?”
“We’re working with the city on that,” I said, not giving too much away.
She stared for a moment as if a pause would give us time to divulge more information. When neither of us spoke, she turned. “Follow me.”
The hallways were covered with the kind of carpet that was laid in squares to be easily replaced. Mouse droppings and dead insects littered the path. Pieces of the suspended ceiling dangled while others were missing, exposing pipes, wires, and a vast network of thick spider webs. I tried to imagine what would be required to make the building livable space—my month timetable seemed suddenly out of reach.
“As I’m sure you read in the description, there are seventeen classrooms, five bathrooms…”
I tried to block out her constant chatter as we stepped into the front-office suite. There wasn’t any furniture. The built-in desks and bookcases were in tatters. Exposed wires led to where computers, televisions, and other technology had once been.
Within one of the bathrooms marked ‘boys,’ the realtor went on about the plumbing. According to her, it was in working order. However, before that could be verified, the city would need to turn on the water. Dante and I exchanged glances at the wall of urinals only inches above the ground. Down one hallway, Rennie opened classroom doors. They were all about the same size. Faded paper covered bulletin boards, and the outlines from where pictures once hung were visible. I was certain that more than once I saw something or many somethings scurry into the shadows.
Our shoes echoed throughout the cavernous gymnasium. Basketball backboards hung folded above, and lines could be seen through the debris on the wood floor.
“The school used this room as a lunchroom too. Let me show you the kitchen.”
Dante and I followed. The kitchen was bigger than I’d anticipated. While many of the appliances had been stripped away, the few that remained gave a good indication of what this room was capable of being again with the right amount of workmanship and money.
Lots of money.
“The building was constructed in 1978,” Rennie said, referring to her tablet. “It is fifty-two thousand square feet. The lot is nearly two acres. It was larger when the school was open, but the city sold off a parcel on the west boundary.”
“We read the specs,” Dante said.
“Yes,” she replied, somewhat flustered that he would interrupt her spiel. No doubt she’d been studying since she learned that there was interest in this old building. “And the asking price is $2.3 million.”
“That was the asking price,” I said. “Mr. Lombardi offered $1.5. If Mr. Barone and I approve of what we see today, we’ll pay $1.5. Cash.”