Destined Chaos

by Kate Allenton

  I rose and was headed toward the door when I turned to look at her. “I hear that’s your area of expertise.”

  “And how would you know that?”

  “Mrs. Weller’s husband was the sheriff. She’d been with her husband the night your grandfather reported that your mom and her sister ran off. Turns out Mrs. Weller and Mr. Slaughter have been friends ever since.”

  She frowned. I’d stuck my foot in my mouth again.

  “Did he tell her why my mom ran?” Libby asked.

  I shrugged. “If he did, she didn’t share it with me. You’ll have to ask her.”

  Gathering the wood didn’t take long. There was still a shed full of wood just behind the house. How did I know it was there? The house told me so. I know it’s a weird specialty to have. Where my brother Dexter could use his specialty to mend things, I…

  I stepped into the shed and pulled out my phone, dialing Dexter.

  “I was wondering when you were going to call me.” Sounds from the intercom at the hospital were heard in the background as he answered with a tired voice.

  “Why didn’t you mend her? I mean, she could be walking right now.”

  “Well, when I was studying the x-rays, I got a call from our lovely sister, and she told me not to.”

  “Clara told you not to fix Libby?” I pressed.

  “She specifically told me not to fix her foot.”

  My heart tightened at the thought my sister would stoop so low.

  “Libby is not the enemy, and even if she doesn’t sell Slaughter House to me, I’ll get it, eventually. I was meant to have this house.”

  “Hugh, you sound a little obsessed with the place.”

  He was right. This might be my dream property, but this wasn’t the only land on this side of the mountain that would offer what I needed. It was, however, the only one I wanted. Maybe I was pressing too hard. Maybe helping her wasn’t in my best interest. Why was I helping her fix it up when she would just sell it to the investor, anyway?

  “Thanks, Dex, I’ll let you know when I bring her back so you can really fix her.”

  “Hugh…”

  I snapped my phone closed when the moonlight shining in the window was momentarily blocked and the shed turned from just cold to the point of freezing. I could see my own breath.

  I didn’t see ghosts like my relatives, but there was something unexplainable going on. I carried the wood into the house. Libby’s eyes were closed, and she was lying on the air mattress with one of my blankets pulled up over her. Soft snores filled the room.

  I started the fire and brought in more wood to last the night. The snow started falling harder. With my snow tires, I could get back down the mountain with little problem, but leaving her alone in this house with a broken foot, no water, and no car just didn’t seem right.

  I grabbed the second blanket and laid it out on the floor next to her bed and fell asleep to the crackling noise from the wood and the shadows it cast on the ceiling while I let the sounds of this house lull me to sleep.

  Dreams filled the sleep.

  A girl smiling as she held a baby wrapped in a pink blanket in her arms. She kissed the baby’s head. A man appeared. The little girl was gone, and Libby was standing in front of him wearing the boot on her foot.

  His hands rested on Libby’s arms. Panic flashed in her eyes.

  “She’ll always be mine, never yours.”

  Fear, livid and real, crushed through me as I lunged for Libby to save her, but the man stepped back into darkness, dragging Libby, screaming, with him.

  Her screams had my eyes flying open. She jackknifed into a sitting position, her gaze darting around the room as she clutched the blanket to her chest.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  She spun in my direction and blinked as if I and the room were coming back into focus. “Bad dream.”

  Her labored breathing slowed back to normal as I laced my fingers and rested them on my stomach.

  “Your dream couldn’t be worse than mine. A man was dragging you into the shadows…”

  “Saying I’m his and not yours,” she said and rolled on the bed to stare down at me. “You were there, in my dream. The spirits in the house must be affecting you too.”

  “Spirits?” I asked.

  “It was one reason my mom took me and left. It was like the ghosts in this house targeted us. I had a play area in the attic. Dinky somehow got locked in, and the door wouldn’t open. It took eight hours before someone found him. My mom assured me it was just old rusty locks, but then other stuff started happening.”

  “She wouldn’t listen?”

  “I tried to tell her it was spirits in the house doing it, but she kept saying it was the Slaughter curse and that someone was playing tricks on me. It wasn’t until a ghost shoved me down the stairs and she found me broken and bleeding that she believed one of us was going to die.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said, watching the faraway look in her eyes return.

  “Something in this house wants me dead.”

  8

  Libby

  Hugh and I stayed up talking most of the night until neither of us could stand it anymore. When a chill settled over me, I glanced at the fading fire and squirmed off the air mattress to throw more kindling over the dying flame, stroking it back to life. The room heated up again as I stood by the window, staring out at the accumulating snow. Grabbing the blanket, I wrapped it around my shoulders and used the crutches to get into the kitchen.

  I wasn’t prepared to entertain guests, not that Hugh was a guest. After last night, I’d moved him into the category of acquaintance. He deserved that for helping me out where others would have just dumped me at the hospital and left. He seemed like a decent guy, so unlike my ex, whose main priority had never been me. I’d been okay with that for far too long. I texted Dinky to drive my car up the mountain. He had a spare key for everything in my life and it was coming in handy. I only hoped he’d get the text with the spotty cell service on this mound of dirt and trees.

  I was debating on making a smoothie, worried the sound might wake Hugh up when he appeared behind me.

  “You’re a health nut?” he asked.

  “Sort of.”

  He grinned. “I figured when you wouldn’t eat a donut and then again last night with the lasagna, but no worries. The longer you stay, the quicker I’ll convert you and show you all the finer things you’re missing out on.”

  I was grabbing the blender out of the sink from where I’d washed it and let it dry overnight when my boot caught on the cabinet and I nose-dived forward. My hair flew into my eyes. The blender flew across the room. Hugh caught me again.

  “I’m starting to think you like falling into my arms.” He brushed my hair out of my face and stared down at me. His gaze lowered to my lips before lifting again.

  “Funny. I never had a problem catching myself until I met you.”

  His chest vibrated with a chuckle as he righted me, making sure I was standing on two feet before he let go. “So, I’m going to leave my emergency kit here with you, seeing how you weren’t prepared to stay the night, and I’m going to head down the hill to find you a water heater and get that going. Then I’ll deal with getting your car up here.”

  “No need. I called Dinky this morning. He’s going to drive it up when he brings Mr. Johnson.”

  “Okay, then. I’ll deal with the water heater.”

  “If you could just give me the name and the number, I can make my arrangements.”

  He tilted his head. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you don’t need my help.”

  I smiled without answering. A wisp of white flew out of the den and up the stairs. No, no, no. They had better not start crap this morning. Not with Dinky and Johnson on the way.

  He glanced over his shoulder. “Okay then. I’m just going to go.”

  “You can take your emergency supply kit. I have stuff coming.”

  “You’ve been busy this morning,” he said
and headed for the door. I stood at the kitchen entrance and watched him.

  “Don’t forget your kit.”

  He glanced over his shoulder. “Keep it as a welcome back present. If nothing else, drink the champagne when you pass the inspection.”

  He yanked the door open and came face to face with Dinky and Mr. Johnson.

  “Thanks for taking care of Libby, but I’ve got her from here,” Dinky said.

  “You know where the water valve is?” Hugh asked.

  Dinky’s mouth parted, and he glanced at me. I shrugged. I had no idea where the valve was.

  “Come on, let me show you. It’s currently off.”

  Hugh and Dinky disappeared for mere minutes, leaving Mr. Johnson at the door.

  “Please come in.”

  Mr. Johnson smiled and had stepped inside when Dinky returned in the doorway.

  “Do I even need to ask about why your water was turned off?” Dinky asked.

  “Just one more thing I need to deal with. Thanks for bringing my car.”

  “It doesn’t look like you’ll be able to drive it, judging by your foot.” Mr. Johnson held out his hand, and I took it. “I’m sorry to hear you had a spill last night.”

  “Fractured, but it’s only hairline.”

  His jaw ticked, and he nodded. “I have physicians that owe me favors. I can make a call to get you a second opinion.”

  “That won’t be necessary.” My cheeks heated. “Let me grab my crutches, and I’ll give you a tour.”

  “No need, Libby. I’d be happy to show Mr. Johnson around. You have a seat and elevate your foot,” Dinky said.

  Johnson glanced at my foot once more and then followed as Dinky led him around the downstairs. When he got to the sitting room, Dinky glanced in my direction and shook his head.

  I’d forgotten to sweep up the salt. I mouthed the word, sorry. My brain fog was back with a vengeance, thanks to the lack of sleep.

  “I’ve read about this property,” Johnson said. “I even visited it once with my mother as a little boy.”

  “Oh, that’s nice. I guess our families knew each other,” I said.

  “I don’t think so. My mother was trying to track my father down, and this was his last location before the child support payments stopped. Mr. Slaughter said he’d moved on.”

  “Wow. I’m sorry,” I said.

  “No need to be sorry. I remember being transfixed by the place, and I’ve been hoping to find it on the market and here we are,” Henry answered.

  I grabbed my crutches and did my best to follow behind them while they were on the ground floor, and when they got to the basement, I stopped them. “You can’t go down there. It’s a mess. The water heater burst last night, and I’m in the process of getting a new one.”

  Mr. Johnson smiled. “Libby, I’m not afraid of a little water damage. I’d still like to see the area.”

  “Of course,” Dinky said, narrowing his eyes behind Johnson’s back as he pulled the door open and flicked on the light.

  They descended the stairs, and I did my best to follow them, using the railing and the drywall as my crutch to hop down the wooden steps.

  The air was frigid. “Hugh must have forgotten to close the window after pumping out the water.”

  I bounded off the last stair, and my gaze went to the closed window.

  “Smart thinking of you to stack things on the shelves when you cleaned out Joseph’s things,” I said to Dinky. The basement was pretty well cleaned up. Nothing was ruined.

  “That wasn’t me,” Dinky answered. “I left all the boxes on the floor.”

  Hugh. I should send him a fruit basket or something to thank him for saving Joseph’s belongings.

  “Like I said. The water heater will be brand-new.”

  “And you’ll need to replace the bottom half of the drywall too,” Mr. Johnson added.

  “Of course, she will,” Dinky said.

  Mr. Johnson kept perusing the area, saying where he was going to keep all of the boxes of liquor for hunting buddies, when the hairs on my arms stood up and I felt a breeze fly by my face.

  I spun in the direction it was headed and watched as the entity shoved Dinky. He flew into the drywall face first.

  My hand flew to cover my gasp. Mr. Johnson spun toward the commotion.

  “Dinky, are you all right?”

  His face was red and scratched up as he pulled himself free. “Yeah. Clumsy me,” he said with a scowl aimed at me.

  We both knew what had happened, even if we couldn’t say.

  “You should be more careful, son, but at least now I can see how sturdy the structure is,” Mr. Johnson said.

  Johnson leaned into the new opening and then leaned back out. A confused look crossed his face. No words left his lips as he leaned back in again and returned with the same concerned look. “I’m guessing those bones come with the house?”

  “What bones?” My voice rose in pitch as I hobbled over to the opening. I peeked inside and horror filled my gut.

  I ripped at the drywall opening, making it bigger for me to see. Bones were protruding out of the ground. “What the…”

  “Everyone has skeletons in their closet, only yours aren’t figurative and you keep them in the basement,” Mr. Johnson said. “Personally, I like to leave mine in the woods where no one can find them.”

  My mouth parted.

  Henry grinned. “Relax. I was joking, Libby.”

  “Henry, now, I’m sure there's a good explanation for why those bones are in the wall.”

  I wrinkled my brow. There was no good explanation. “No, there’s not.”

  “Well, of course, there’s not,” Dinky corrected. “But you can’t let whatever happened here in the past dissuade you from the property. I made you aware that deaths had occurred here. It just seems there might be more than we figured. Come, let me show you the rooms and the excellent view while Libby calls to have these removed.”

  “This is fascinating and worrisome.” Mr. Johnson brushed off Dinky’s attempt to lure him out of the basement. “I can market this place as a haunted lodge in the woods. That will draw in a huge market. You know those weirdos go crazy over supernatural stuff. With those bones and your name, they’ll eat this up.”

  The butterflies in my stomach turned to lead. Did I want Slaughter House to be a destination for the paranormal community? Would that type of clientele give any of my dead relatives any rest? Was I that cold-hearted not to move them on first?

  “That’s an excellent idea. Take some pictures of the bones for proof before the police get here,” Dinky said.

  “No,” I answered. “That’s disrespectful, and if this is a crime scene, then we’re contaminating it. Everyone out. Upstairs.”

  I ushered them up the stairs and glanced at the new opening once more. When I was a little girl, this basement used to be wide open without walls. It had only been closed in since the day my mother ran. Someone in my family had to be responsible for those bones. Did that mean one of them was a killer?

  We hit the first floor, and I grabbed my crutches and headed for the kitchen. I grabbed the phone and dialed 911.

  “I’ll take it,” Henry said. “I don’t need to see anymore. I’ll have my lawyer draw up the paperwork.” He patted Dinky’s back. “Looks like you’re off the hook.”

  “That’s fabulous. It’s a pleasure doing business with you.” Dinky’s excited voice rose an octave.

  I frowned. How could he possibly be excited about this?

  “We have other offers. I’m not sure…” My answer was cut off when the phone was answered.

  “Nine-one-one. What’s your emergency?”

  “I’d like to report a skeleton hidden in my walls.”

  9

  Libby

  I sat at the top of the stairs looking down at the forensic team as they moved around. They’d wanted me to wait upstairs while they worked, but I just couldn’t. I had to see with my own eyes, and thankfully, Clark Weller didn’t send me aw
ay for the third time. He stood at the bottom of the stairs, talking in hushed tones to a few people, while men dressed from head to toe in white suits and gloves carefully cut and removed the drywall. With each section, a look would pass between the workers. I hadn’t understood it until I spotted the second skull and then the third. There wasn’t just one body in my basement. There were more.

  Dinky had left with Mr. Johnson. It was as though he could read the aggravation and frustration on my face. The longer Johnson stood there talking about his plans, the more I was ready to tell him no and boot him out.

  My heart seized as an overwhelming sadness consumed me. My eyes started to tear. I didn’t know why. I didn’t even know whose bones those were, and it wasn’t for the family I didn’t know.

  Someone’s life had been discarded, more than one, and within my house. Was that why I’d been pushed down the stairs? One of these dead people wanting revenge? I refrained from rubbing at the age-old scar.

  Big boots clomped down on the stair I was sitting on. I couldn’t take my eyes off the wall as the next section of the drywall was being removed.

  “I don’t know what I’m going to do with you. I leave you alone for one minute, and you go and find some bones,” Hugh said as he sat next to me.

  “Leave it to me.” My voice was a whisper. “Although I wasn’t the one that fell into the drywall. That was all Dinky.”

  “Must run in the family,” Hugh teased and handed me a green smoothie in a cup I didn’t recognize. “What’s this?”

  “That’s compliments of Mrs. Weller. It’s the healthiest thing she could make.” Hugh grinned and pulled a granola bar out of his pocket and tilted it in my direction. “And this is from me. This is as healthy as I get, but I brought donuts for you and the others, in case you venture beyond your comfort zone.”

  “This isn’t some freak show that we need popcorn to watch.”

  “I know,” Hugh said. His brows dipped. “I didn’t mean any disrespect. I just thought you might need a friend.”

  “You’re supposed to be the house whisperer. Why didn’t you know about the bones in the walls?” My question was accusatory as I turned my gaze back to the workers.