“Thanks.” She smiled as I eased the door closed behind me.
Walking into the kitchen toward the smell of brewing coffee, I ran my hand through my hair, thankful that Dinky wasn’t a local that would go shooting off his mouth to everyone.
Dinky was standing at the French doors that led into the backyard. “She’s not going to sell to you, if that’s why you’re sleeping with her.”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but that’s not why I’m sleeping with her.”
Dinky turned and watched as I pulled two cups from the cupboards and began filling them. “Where did all this stuff come from? I packed away all of our grandfather’s junk.”
“More need to know, and it’s not your business.”
“Listen here, you ass—”
“Dinky, that’s enough,” Libby said from the kitchen entryway.
“You heard the little lady.” I placed one of the cups on the table and kissed her before pulling out her chair.
She raised her brows.
I was instigating. I didn’t know why. He just rubbed me wrong. “Sorry.”
Her frown relaxed. “Dinky, I don’t appreciate you treating my friends like that.”
“You don’t have friends,” Dinky clarified.
I pulled the creamer out of the fridge and a spoon and rested them near her cup.
“That’s not true. I’m her friend, and so is that guy, Champ.”
“He knows about Champ?” Dinky asked, clearly agitated.
“It’s a long story, and, yes, he knows about Champ.”
“And Peter,” I added with a smile.
She rolled her eyes while I sipped my black coffee, letting the heat and burn of caffeine fuel my insides.
“Never mind. I don’t even want to know,” Dinky said, placing the envelope he’d carried in down on the table. “That’s Mr. Johnson’s contract. It’s above the asking price, and he’s willing to take the place as is.”
“Yeah, about that…”
“That’s my cue. I’m going to step out front and call Clark to see when the forensic crew is returning,” I said, leaving them to talk in private.
17
Libby
“What the hell do you mean they found more bones and a diary?” Dinky asked, plopping down in the chair like he was defeated.
“They did, and apparently the diary suggests those bones are an older sister of mine.”
“What diary. My mom never mentioned the old man kept a diary.”
“I haven’t looked at it yet, but, apparently he did and in it he’s suggesting those bones are a sister I didn’t know I had. The other bones in the basement might be my mom’s boyfriend or the toddler’s father. I don’t know yet.”
Dinky sat back like the air had gotten knocked out of him. “Mr. Johnson is going to love this new twist. He can sell it as unrequited love or a vengeful ghost haunting the place.”
“Yeah, about that…” I rested my hands over the envelope. “I sort of promised Hugh that I’d wait thirty days to make a decision.”
“Now, why in the hell would you do that?” Dinky asked and jabbed his finger at the envelope. “Do you even realize how much Johnson is willing to pay? We could be rich. Well, you could be rich.”
“Now, Dinky, I told you I’d split any profit from the sale with you. He was just as much your grandfather as he was mine. I don’t know why he only left it to me. Just part of the drama, I guess.”
“That’s even more reason to just sell the thing, Libby. Johnson is willing to buy it as-is and renovate it himself. He wants the property, and I don’t know if he’ll wait thirty days for you to make up your mind.”
“Sorry, Dinky. I already gave Hugh my word. He’s going to help me schedule the crews to have it renovated if I wait thirty to decide. I can’t in good conscience sell it without knowing our history.”
“Our history is dead and buried, Libby. Why can’t you just forget it?”
“I can’t. Not yet.” I glanced down the hall. “With everything going on, it makes sense that I don’t pass it off to anyone else just yet. Not until we have all the answers.”
Dinky stood from his seat. “I don’t know why you care about answers. Our mothers didn’t.”
I lifted the contract, and he shook his head. “At least look at it, and I’ll tell Johnson in the morning that you’re waiting for thirty days. I’ll come up with some excuse. I just hope he doesn’t lose interest in this place.”
Dinky headed down the hall and out the front door, shutting it behind him. Johnson’s interest in the place was the least of my worries.
18
Hugh
I disconnected the call and shoved my phone into my pocket. The morning air was brisk, but the coffee heated me from the inside out. I’d have to grab my jacket and more clothes. The door squeaked as Dinky walked out. He was on the last step toward his car when he turned around to face me.
“Did Libby tell you why our mothers took us and ran when were just kids?”
“She told me some things.”
“An evil spirit locked me in the attic, and my mother couldn’t find me for twenty-four hours, but that wasn’t the catalyst to running. Libby’s accident was. She was pushed down the grand staircase by an evil spirit. It almost broke her neck. It’s not safe for her to live here. The longer she stays in this place, the more danger you’re putting her in.”
“She makes her own decisions, Dinky.”
His eye twitched. “If anything happens to her, that’s on you. You’re the reason she’s not thinking clearly, and you’re the reason she’s spending the next thirty days here.” Dinky shook his finger. “That’s right. She told me about your little deal. You can’t protect her from the evil in that house. You want this place, I get it, but at what cost? Libby’s life?”
Dinky spun and headed to his car, slamming the door after he slid inside.
I walked back inside, straight to the kitchen. Libby was pouring herself another cup of coffee. “That went better than expected.”
“Dinky must mask it well around you, because he was pretty mad.” I leaned against the counter and met her gaze over the rim of my cup as I sipped.
“I promised him half the proceeds when and if I sell. He’s seeing dollar signs.”
“No, I’m pretty sure the little scolding he just gave me was over how the spirits in this house tried to kill you when you were a little girl.”
“Yeah, stuff like that is kind of hard to forget,” she said, sipping her coffee.
“Listen, if staying here is too hard for you, I can do it myself.”
“I’m not scared of this house or the spirits in it.” There was a hesitation in her eyes. She visibly swallowed after saying the words. There was something beneath the surface. Something that I hadn’t figured out.
“Tell me about when you lived here.”
“I’ve already told you the reason my mom ran. Besides that, there’s nothing to tell, really,” she said, pulling eggs and bacon out of the fridge.
I pulled out a chair and guided her by the arm to sit down. “You sit, and I’ll cook.”
“I’m not an invalid, Hugh.”
I leaned over her and kissed the worry from her face. “I never said you were. This is my way of thanking you for last night.”
“Oh, right.” A blush crept onto her cheeks.
I cooked breakfast while she told me what she remembered about the place. How she’d seen her fair share of ghosts in the house and how they’d scared her silly as a girl. She said she remembered lots of yelling and how unhappy her mother was, even if Libby didn’t understand why. The house and everything around it was just as much of a mystery to her as it was to me. Bones or not, this house had a heartbeat, and for a split second, I wondered if Dinky might be right. There was no way for me to protect her from things I couldn’t see.
Before we’d even finished the breakfast dishes, there was a knock on the door.
“It’s grand central around here.”
I opened the door to find Clark and the forensic team waiting patiently behind him.
“Come on in.” I pulled the door open farther, letting them inside.
The forensic group went straight to the basement, knowing the way.
“I heard you took my mom’s advice and set up shop.”
I grinned. “It’s easier that way.”
Clark dropped his gaze to my bare feet. “I’m sure that’s the only reason.”
“I like her. So, sue me.”
“Uh-huh. And how is that going to work when she leaves? You know it’s either one or the other. You keep her and she stays, or she sells and she leaves.”
“We haven’t gotten that far yet.”
“Might be something you want to mull over before you make any more decisions you can’t undo.”
Clark nodded toward the kitchen, and I turned to find Libby leaning against the wall. She smiled.
“That’s some good advice, Sheriff, but I think we’re both adults.”
“She’s got a good point, Clark.” I shut the door behind him and headed for the kitchen, only stopping to kiss her lips once again.
She tasted of sweetness and sass, and I couldn’t get enough.
“So is this official business, or did you just come up here because you’re worried we’re getting frisky?”
Clark grinned and walked into the kitchen. “Actually, I’m here for your DNA and to tell you what we’ve found so far.”
I shared a look with Libby. Apprehension clouded her eyes before she blinked and returned the mask to her face.
One of the forensic members walked in and took a cheek swab before leaving.
“What did you find?”
“The toddler had a crushed windpipe. The ME believes she was choked to death.”
“For the love of all that’s holy,” Libby whispered beneath her breath before meeting Clark’s gaze. “And you’re sure she’s related?”
“That’s why I’m here for the DNA sample.”
“And the book? Did you bring a copy of the book?” I asked.
“There were pages that we're sticking together, so forensics is still dissecting it and trying to keep it intact. I’m sure, in time, it will tell us more.”
I wrapped my arms around Libby, giving her the support she was probably unused to. She relaxed into my embrace, surprising me.
“Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it.”
“Yes, we will,” Libby said. “Any idea when your guys are going to be done?”
“They’re running ground-penetrating radar to see if they need to dig anywhere else. I’m hoping they’ll be out of your way in the next couple of days when your construction crew shows up. We sprayed luminol through the entire house except for the room in the attic. The door was locked.”
“Right,” Libby said. “Dinky has the key. I’ll call him and have him bring it over.”
Clark nodded. “Well, then. Call me if you need anything.”
“Of course. Thanks for stopping by,” I said.
“And helping to provide me some answers,” Libby added.
“I just hope you don’t shoot the messenger when this is all over,” Clark said as he headed for the front door.
Libby texted Dinky, letting him know that she was going to need the key, hoping whatever was in the attic was less atrocious than what they’d found in the basement.
19
Libby
The house was cooler as the sun began to set. The forensic people had just left, and I could breathe a smiling sigh of relief. After two more bags of things had been removed from the basement, I felt like I was being watched from the landing above. The creepy hair-on-the-neck feeling, signaling that I wasn’t alone even after the forensic people and Hugh left, had me on edge. I wasn’t alone, but then again, I was never really alone.
I hobbled into the bedroom and grabbed some clothes from my bag to take a shower. Hugh had run to his house to grab some necessities and to pick up dinner that neither one of us would need to cook.
Stepping into the shower, I was careful of my foot and did my best to wash before climbing out. When this boot was finally off my leg, I’d soak in a long hot bath. Maybe I’d invite Hugh to join me. The tub was plenty big enough.
A smile slipped onto my lips as I thought about Hugh, and all the way, my feelings toward him surprised me. It was out of the ordinary for me to be surprised and to become attached. Why was I letting this happen? I wouldn’t be alive in five years to see where anything went.
I dressed, and the hair on my neck rose as I turned in place. I could feel the presence in the room even if I couldn’t see it yet. The chill in the room raised goosebumps on my arms. Disembodied female laughter traveled through the air vents.
I heard clanging in the kitchen. Hugh was back.
“That was fast,” I called out on my way down the hall toward the kitchen.
That intense feeling of eyes on me had my gaze darting into every room I passed. The anticipation of what was to come rattled my nerves. Something passed behind me. The quick gush of air doubled the goosebumps on my arms. A little girl appeared in front of me and quickly disappeared. I stood stock-still, hoping she’d return. I had questions and nowhere to look for answers.
Another noise in the kitchen had me moving again. I rounded the corner into the empty kitchen and frowned. I’d heard something, and not from the dead variety. I slowly turned in place when I spotted where the noise originated. My heart sped up as anger roiled through my body.
“Peter, what are you doing here?” I asked. The sound of my voice had him turning his gaze from the den toward me.
“There you are,” he said, his voice laced with determination. “Champ had my stuff delivered.”
“Good. I’m glad you got it back.” My brows dipped. “But what are you doing here? Did I forget to pack something of yours?”
“Yeah,” he said, coming to stand in front of me. He tilted his head. “You.”
The anger building inside turned to boulders in my stomach. “Peter, you and I broke up. I thought I made it clear that we weren’t going to get back together.
“I heard you.” His eyes flashed. “You just didn’t try hard enough to keep us together, so I’m going to have to do it for both of us.”
I took a step back. I wasn’t quick enough. He grabbed one of my wrists, making my crutch fall. His thick fingers dug into my skin.
“Peter. You need to leave. Hugh will be back soon.”
Anger flashed in Peter’s eyes. “Good, it’s time I dealt with him too. He needs to understand that we’re not through. I don’t run when things get hard. Especially when they’re worth fighting for.”
“Peter, please, just go,” I said, fighting the tears that threatened to stab my eyes. “We’re over. I’m not taking you back.”
His fist came hard and fast to my face, sending me to the ground and making me lose my other crutch.
I gripped the sting as the tears welled in my eyes and broke free.
“Now look what you made me do, Libby. But you’ll learn I don’t like sharp tongues.”
“Screw you,” I belted out through my hoarse voice.
“And you’ll learn not to hit women.” Hugh’s growl had me opening my eyes and lifting my gaze. Just as Peter turned toward the sound, I saw that Hugh had my crutch in his hand and swung it at Peter.
Peter took the hit like he hadn’t felt a thing.
I squirmed back as Peter rose to his full height. He grabbed Hugh around the neck even as Hugh sent uppercuts into Peter’s ribcage. He still acted unfazed.
“Peter, stop!” I yelled, clambering to stand with the use of my other crutch. “Please, you’re killing him.”
“It has to be this way, Libby. You have to see what I’m willing to do for you.”
My heart raced as I debated what to do. Hugh’s punches were turning softer as the blood drained from his face.
“Get the o
pponent on the ground,” I whispered, remembering my training.
I swung my crutch like a golf club right between Peter’s open legs as if I were trying to reach a golf green in one stroke.
Peter lost his hold on Hugh as he clutched his crotch and dropped to his knees. Targeted anger stared back at me, even if Peter was having a hard time forming a sentence. Once he recovered, we didn’t stand a chance.
I grabbed my crutch again, but Peter produced a knife. He jabbed it in the air in my direction, and Hugh finally landed a punch in Peter’s face. First one and then five, until blood covered my kitchen floor.
“Libby, call the police!” Hugh yelled, kicking the knife across the floor and away from Peter’s unconscious grip.
Hugh got between the both of us and used one of my crutches as a weapon. He only had to hit Peter once more before he went unconscious again. And then the police arrived.
Clark looked as though he’d just climbed out of bed, as did his two deputies. They’d talked to both Hugh and I separately to get each of our statements, but I had a feeling it was only for formality. The Bennett seven in this town weren’t trouble makers. Well, at least none I’d met yet.
Peter had moaned and regained consciousness as he was being treated and put onto a gurney. Clark had handcuffed him and followed the paramedics out the front door I only hoped the handcuffs held during the transport.
Dinner was heated up, not that either of us had much of an appetite. My lip was busted where Peter’s ring had caught it. My head was pounding, and even though Hugh said he was fine, the finger marks around his neck had yet to fade and his knuckles were swollen and bruised.
“I’m sorry.” My voice was quiet in the dark room as Hugh held me close.
“It’s not your fault,” he said, stroking my hair.
“Yeah, it is. If it weren’t for me, you and Peter would have never met and he would never have tried to kill you.”
Hugh’s finger stopped stroking. “I’d fight him a thousand times more if it meant meeting you. You’re important to me.”
Destined Chaos Page 9
