Neighborhood Watch (3 page)

“You know it is,” Elaine Feinberg said curtly and shifted her gaze away quickly. Why wasn’t she interested in being introduced to them? he wondered. Even more so, why

didn’t Michele think of doing that?

Kristin, never the shy one, moved forward anyway.

“How many months are you?” she asked.

“I’m ending my seventh,” Elaine Feinberg said.

“I’m in my fourth,” Kristin replied smiling. She anticipated more conversation, but Elaine Feinberg simply turned to direct her gaze out the French doors again.

Teddy knew his wife, knew it was on the tip of her tongue to ask Elaine Feinberg why she was smoking while she was pregnant. Kristin’s second pregnancy had ended in a

miscarriage. She had been in a depression for a long period following the miscarriage, which was another reason for the move and their new start.

This time Kristin was having a good pregnancy; it made her even more radiant, and the potential of a new home only sharpened and intensified the brightness in her eyes and the flush in her cheeks.

But her directness had gotten her into trouble before and he anticipated her cross-

examination of Mrs. Feinberg. He cleared his throat.

“We really should be moving along,” he said quickly.

“Right this way,” Michele indicated and took them into the kitchen. Elaine Feinberg continued to sit and stare, smoking very sluggishly, her cheeks collapsing as she drew in the smoke. It was as if she were condemned to move in slow motion, all her movements heavy and full of effort. Jennifer looked back at her with curiosity, the questions titillating her, but Teddy pulled her along before she could start.

“Oh, Teddy, look at this kitchen,” Kristin said spinning around like a child in a candy store. She didn’t know which appliance to check out first—the Sub-Zero refrigerator and freezer, the digital microwave oven, the double ovens, the built-in Mixmaster, the

computerized dishwasher. “Do all these houses come with garbage compactors?” she

asked.

“Yes,” Michele said. “And the Genaire ranges. Mr. Slater, the developer, insisted that there be no corners cut in his homes. You pay for quality and you get it. Besides, every electrical appliance in this house comes with a built-in ten-year service contract, renewable after ten years. There are no homeowner headaches at Emerald Lakes,” she

said.

“How old is this house?” Teddy asked. The fireplace and the kitchen appliances looked barely used.

“Less than a year,” Michele said, obviously proud to be the real estate agent with this listing.

“Less than a year? But . . .” He turned and gazed at Elaine Feinberg again. Why would she and her husband want to sell so soon? Especially since they were expecting a child in a few months? It must be economic disaster, he thought. Her husband lost his job and they can’t make the payments. But to take such a loss . . .

“Let’s look at the bedrooms,” Kristin cried. “Okay, Jennifer?” Jennifer nodded and

Kristin took her hand. Then they started down the corridor. Teddy hesitated a moment, shrugged and followed. Throughout the inspection, he was always a room behind Kristin, Jennifer, and Michele because when he got to the master bedroom and stood looking out the patio doors at the tiled portico and tiled cement swimming pool and whirlpool, he simply stared in disbelief.

This wasn’t the first house they had considered. He knew something about the present real estate market. This house had to be . . . what, over four hundred thousand, maybe five. He had been talking two, two-fifty. To buy it at a price that would keep his mortgage payments in the ballpark he had suggested meant they’d get a steal. Unless, of course, this house wasn’t worth as much as he thought.

But why wouldn’t it be? Look where it was located: an upscale residential gated

community of thirty-five homes built around a mile-wide and two-mile-long lake

surrounded by a wonderful forest of pine, birch, maple, and hickory. The water, reflecting the greenery, took on a rich shade of lime. When the lake was calm and there was barely a breeze, and when it was the height of spring as it was now, it looked like a sea of emeralds sparkling in the sunlight. All the homes were built on acre-size lots. They were only sixty-odd miles from Manhattan. And the house was easily thirty-five hundred

square feet, maybe even four thousand!

“Teddy,” Kristin called from down the corridor. He poked his head out and saw her.

“Look at your office.”

“My office?”

He hurried down to where she and Jennifer stood and gazed in at a room with built-in oak bookcases, a large oak desk and a leather swivel chair, a matching settee, dark oak tables and a worktable with a fax machine and copier. The office had a bay window that opened on a view of the lake. It was breathtaking.

“Teddy?” Kristin said, her eyes brightening with the inner exhilaration he had come to recognize, an expression of excitement that usually titillated him. Kristin was a very sexy woman with her dark eyes and nearly caramel tinted skin. Being four months pregnant hadn’t slowed her down either. She tilted her head slightly and pursed her lips. The quickening of his heartbeat threw him into an embarrassing fluster. He was sure Michele Lancaster could see the flush in his cheeks and could sense the erotic electricity passing between Kristin and himself.

“The monthly payments,” he said holding his hand out, palm down and waving it

slightly, “they would be in our ballpark?”

“If the board of directors approves you, you’ll qualify for a low-cost mortgage loan from the Hudson Valley Bank. Mr. Slater is the president of the board of directors of that bank and Mr. Stanley, who lives two doors down, is the bank president.

“I should explain,” she continued, “that part of the reason this house falls into your budget range lies with the fact that the land is lease land.”

“Lease land?”

“No resident owns the property on which his house is built, individually owns it, that is.

All of the property is owned by the Emerald Lakes homeowners association to which

each resident pays a lease rent, built into your homeowner’s fee. It’s rather nominal rent.”

“What an odd setup,” Teddy said.

“It’s the way Mr. Slater designed the complex. This way everyone really is an owner and everyone has more reason to feel responsible for each other’s property.”

“It’s like a luxury commune.”

“Precisely. But it enables you to have a diminished up-front cost. Simply put, Teddy, this house wouldn’t cost you a dollar more a month than the figure you gave me on the

telephone.”

He nodded and looked at Kristin. She was trying desperately to control her exuberance.

“We didn’t figure in the extra furniture we would have to buy because we didn’t consider buying a house this big,” he said. Despite what Michele was telling them, he felt

obligated to remind Kristin of every negative.

“Oh, the price we’re talking about includes the furniture you see,” Michele said.

“What?”

“And the wall hangings, I should add.”

Kristin finally looked astounded and skeptical herself.

“These people aren’t leaving,” Teddy muttered, gazing about at their good fortune,

“they’re fleeing. Why?” Teddy asked. “What’s going on? Has there been a discovery of nuclear waste beneath these homes or something?”

“Hardly,” Michele said laughing. “There isn’t a more ideal location for a residential community. All sorts of environmental studies were done here before Mr. Slater broke ground. You’ll get a copy of everything.” Her face turned somber. “Mr. Feinberg

committed suicide just a little over a week ago.”

“Oh my God,” Kristin said.

“What’s suicide, Mommy?” Jennifer asked.

“I’ll tell you later, sweetheart. Just let Mommy and Daddy talk, okay?”

Reluctantly, Jennifer retreated, but her steely blue eyes revealed her displeasure at being relegated to the back burner.

“How did it happen?” Teddy asked.

“He shot himself.”

“Here?” Kristin followed, grimacing.

“Yes. I would have told you. We’re required to disclose such things.”

“How dreadful,” Kristin whispered, so Jennifer wouldn’t hear. She gazed toward the

kitchen. “Especially with her being pregnant.”

“Do they know why? Were there health problems?”

“A combination of things, I gather—money problems, marital problems. Naturally, it’s all hush-hush now. Anyway, that’s why she’s what we call ‘a motivated seller.’ ”

“I feel as if we’re taking advantage,” Kristin said.

“Don’t be silly,” Michele said quickly. “If you don’t buy this place, someone else surely will. Why shouldn’t it be you? And Mrs. Feinberg wants to get out desperately.”

“Where did he do it?” Kristin asked.

“The office. You’d never know anything like that happened in there. I mean . . . we took on the responsibility of being sure it was spotless. I assure you, if you weren’t told, you’d never know,” she added.

“Teddy?” Kristin asked again.

He thought a moment.

“It’s not like I’m buying a car someone got killed in or I’m sleeping in a bed someone died in,” he rationalized.

“Precisely,” Michele said.

“This is such a beautiful house,” Kristin said gazing around. “It’s such a shame.”

“If you walk away from it, someone else will walk into it tomorrow,” Michele

threatened. Teddy nodded. Despite the tragic circumstances, he felt like he and Kristin had just won the lottery.

“What was this stipulation you mentioned before? Something about being approved by

the board of directors?” he asked.

“Yes, but you shouldn’t have any problems: an optometrist—”

“Ophthalmologist,” Teddy corrected. “I deal with diseases of the eye; I don’t prescribe glasses.”

“Teddy is very sensitive about that. Most people don’t know the difference,” Kristin explained.

“Which is considerable. I have a medical degree,” he added, trying not to sound superior.

But he couldn’t help feeling that being an eye specialist made him a little superior. The ancients believed that the eyes were the gateways to the soul. Ever since he was a child, he had been infatuated with that part of human anatomy. To him the eyes were the most miraculous part of life. It was this holy and devoted respect of the human eye that gave him the energy and excitement in his work and made him stand out as an

ophthalmologist. Teachers and other doctors saw it immediately. It had taken a mere twenty-five minutes for the doctors at the medical group in Middletown, a small city just a few miles north, to see the potential in him and offer him a position.

The Mid-Hudson Valley had always been an area both he and Kristin admired, not only because of its proximity to New York City but because of its environmental beauty. They wouldn’t be far from her parents, who lived in Yonkers, nor his, who lived in Queens.

“Well, you’re even more qualified than I thought,” Michele said laughing. “Which is more reason why I wouldn’t anticipate any problems. The directors favor professionals.

Mr. Slater knows so many people. I’m sure he’s familiar with the doctors and medical group you’re joining.”

“I’ve never heard of being approved by a board of directors before I could buy a house,”

Teddy mused. “I know it’s done with co-ops, but a single family residence . . .”

“It relates to the special lease land arrangement, and the directors of Emerald Lakes pride themselves on how well managed this development is. Surely, if you have been looking at real estate recently, you can see the difference. It’s not just in the state-of-the-art security; it’s the maintenance, the upkeep of the common grounds and the homes themselves.”

“I’ve never seen such picture-perfect streets and lawns,” Kristin remarked. “And it’s so quiet.”

“My wife’s a composer,” Teddy explained.

“Oh, Teddy, don’t exaggerate. I dabble on the piano, but I haven’t placed any of my pieces yet.”

“Anyway, she works at home and appreciates a peaceful neighborhood,” Teddy

continued.

“Of course,” Michele said. “Everyone here does. Oh, some people object to the strict enforcement of the codes at first, but they soon see the value and many of them

eventually become champions of the very regulations they first thought too stringent.”

“Really?” Teddy nodded at Kristin. “What are some of these regulations?” he asked.

“Nothing more than you will find in other developments; the difference being Emerald Lakes enforces them. You know, rules about where and how to put out your garbage so it doesn’t become unsightly, rules against such things as repainting your house bright pink . . .” She laughed. “In short, anything that would hurt the property values of your neighbors and yourself. Most of it is just common courtesy.”

“That sounds reasonable,” Teddy said.

“Shall we go back to my office then and get out the papers? You won’t have any real obligation, just a refundable deposit, which would be returned if you should change your minds within the next week or in the unlikely event you don’t get approval from the board.”

“What do you think, Teddy?” Kristin shifted her weight from foot to foot like a little girl who had to go tinkle. He smiled and turned to Jennifer.

“What do
you
think, Pumpkin? Would you like to live here in this big house?”

Jennifer narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips as she thought. She gazed up at Michele and then looked at her parents and shook her head.

“What?” Kristin said. “Why not?”

“I wanna go home,” she moaned.

“Oh, honey, this could be a wonderful new home for you, with lots more room to play and . . .” She turned to Michele. “There are other children here, aren’t there?”

“Of course, and some right around her age, too.”

“See? You’ll make new friends.”

“I wanna go home,” she repeated and lunged forward to embrace Teddy’s knee. He

looked at Michele and smiled.

“She’s not usually this shy . . . the prospect of moving . . . it’s traumatic even for a child this age.”

“Of course.”

“Well, I can’t imagine us finding anything better than this for the money we’ve been discussing,” he said nodding.