Haunted Hideout

by Michelle Dorey

“You’re joking, right? That’s a hell of a hike to the bus stop.” The fact that the bus had turned before getting to their driveway underscored the fact that Jake was probably right. Great. She’d freeze her ass off, while that girl she’d seen only had to walk the length of her driveway.

  She looked across at Mark, hunched up close to the window in the backseat. He’d been quieter than usual—and for him that was saying something. He was probably still smarting from the embarrassment at the beach. There’d been no guy or bush that could ever be mistaken for a guy, and everyone knew it. For a moment she actually felt sorry for the little nerd. “Hey. You’ll be glad we bought the playing cards and Monopoly. Who knows when we’ll get the internet? Even Monopoly is better than nothing, right?”

  Immediately, she could have kicked herself. She should have gotten Scrabble or Yahtzee. The last time they’d played Monopoly it had been a rainy day at Sanibel. Dad had cleaned their clocks in the four-hour marathon. If the memory stung her heart, Mark was sure to remember and feel bad too. She had to change tracks fast. “Did you go in the barn this morning? I didn’t get a chance to.”

  He nodded. “Yeah. It kind of smells but there’s a hayloft.” He looked away for a moment. “If you go in there, wedge a rock at the door so you don’t get locked in.”

  Beside Mark, a few flakes of snow brushed the window. She hit the button next to her and when the window slid lower, she thrust her bare hand out to catch some flakes. She’d seen pictures of snow falling but here she was, now experiencing it for the first time. A few landed on her skin and immediately melted, leaving her with only a chill to mark their presence. She pulled her hand in and put the window back up.

  “Now I’ll bet you’re glad we got those boots. They may be clunky but they’ll keep you warm. You’d freeze in those sneakers.” Mom turned and smiled at her. “This is kind of pretty, isn’t it? The snowflakes are bigger than I expected.”

  Jake laughed, “The first snows are usually like this. Pretty, but by the end of the winter, trust me, you’ll be sick of it.” He wheeled the car into their driveway. “The plow does the main road here but you’ll have to look after clearing your driveway. There’re lots of small contractors to do that.”

  Angela tuned them out, already picturing a hot bath and getting the chill from her bones. It might be pretty outside, but it sure was cold. Would she ever get used to the freezing temperatures? She edged forward a bit, “Can you get the fireplace going? That house is frigid.”

  “Sure. There’s a stack of wood at the other side of the barn. Maybe Mark can give me a hand bringing some in.” Jake turned and smiled at her brother, “What do you say, buddy? Two hands make light work.”

  Angela looked over at Mark. If the logs were any size at all, he’d never be able to manage. And he looked as chilled to the bone as she was. “I’ll help too. Maybe I’ll peek in the barn before it gets too dark.”

  Mark shook his head. “It’s okay. You help Mom with the groceries and I’ll get the wood.” His jaw clenched tight and he looked out the window.

  Well that was that. If Mark wanted to prove a point, that this was some guy kind of thing, lugging wood, that was up to him. The hot bath was sounding better and better. Maybe she’d light some candles!

  ***

  Ten minutes later, Angela poured bath salts under the gush of warm water filling the tub. She went down the hallway to her bedroom and shut the door. After shedding her clothes, she pulled her robe on and knotted the belt. With pajamas in hand she went back down the hall to the bathroom, tugging the sides tighter against the cool air. She paused for just a second, her hand on the door handle. Was someone in there? It was quiet, the sound of pouring water was gone.

  Her knuckles tapped the door, “Anyone there?” God, she hoped it wasn’t Jake using the bathroom. Family was one thing and while Jake was nice, kind of good-looking if you liked the rugged type, it wasn’t the same.

  The latch snicked and the door opened a few inches. She eased back expecting Jake or Mark to step out, but nothing happened. From the muffled sounds downstairs, Mom was busy putting groceries away so it wasn’t her in there. After a few more beats she pushed the door wider only to see a wispy veil of mist from the hot bath in front of her. No one there. Still, her eyes narrowed and she looked past the cloudy mirror above the sink.

  The tub was only a quarter way filled but the faucet had stopped running. Great. With the age of the house, she wouldn’t be surprised if there was an air lock or the well had dried up. She bent, about to fiddle with the tap handle when she noticed it was in the off position. What the hell? Someone had come in, used the bathroom and turned the damned thing off? How annoying. She flipped the lever and it began filling again.

  She turned and went back to the sink. She might as well brush her teeth and get that out of the way while she waited for the bath to fill. If that was Mark who did that, she’d give him a swat. With toothbrush loaded with paste in one hand, with the other she swiped at the mirror to clear the steam, with the cuff of her robe. Her head jerked back and she almost dropped the toothbrush. For just a micro-second there’d been a face in the mirror!

  Her hand flew to her throat and she gasped. It was the same girl! The face she’d seen there the day before had appeared in the mirror! But there was nothing now. But she’d seen it. For sure, she’d seen it. How could that be? She forced herself to take a long breath. Yesterday, she’d been so tired anything could have been possible. But now? A cold shiver gripped her shoulders and the hair on her arms tingled high.

  What the hell? That kind of thing didn’t happen in real life—only in horror movies. But she’d seen it, right? A girl about her own age but with really dark hair.

  Her heart pounded in her chest and she backed out of the bathroom slowly. “Mom?” But from the sounds below, her mother busy doing something in the kitchen, Mom hadn’t heard her. She blinked a few times, staring down the stairwell.

  Had she really seen a face? If Dad was here, he’d look for a plausible explanation. He wouldn’t just jump to the conclusion it was a ghost or something weird like that. Mom would think she was tired or seeing things, some trick of the light. The noise of the tub filling finally made the decision for her. She had to turn it off before it overflowed and caused a bigger problem. She would be an adult, assess the situation to find a logical reason for the fleeting image. Yeah.

  She crept back in and then darted over to turn the tap off. It would be so much easier if she hadn’t seen that face yesterday. She could blame today on the steam, the bleary surface of the glass. She straightened and scanned the area above the tub, searching for any shadow or ripple in the smooth surface that could have been caught in the mirror, making it look like a face had been there. But there was only the satin surface of the ivory wall. Certainly nothing that could have caused the dark hair in the image she’d seen.

  Her body was tight when she turned to the window. But only the snow, falling harder in the fading light showed. No hope of a bird or tree branch casting a shadow to cause what she’d seen. She risked another peek at the mirror but it reflected the room, nothing other than what you’d expect to see. Some of the steam had drifted out and the room seemed normal enough now.

  There was no way she was going to run crying to her mother about some face that was no longer there. Mom had enough to worry about with Mark seeing strange guys on the beach. And let’s face it. None of them were operating at full capacity right then. She was no expert on grief but maybe your mind went a little wonky with reality.

  She shut the door and locked it. Pulling her shoulders back, she slipped the knot of her robe loose. This would probably be the fastest bath she ever took but it had to be done. No spooky imagining was going to make her do otherwise. Besides, after she thawed from the day’s errands she’d feel calmer. There was probably some reasonable explanation and she’d find it.

  FOURTEEN

  Lydia

  LYDIA’S SHOULDERS DROOPED as she stood in the kitchen putting away groc
eries. She was alone now. There was no need to be strong for the kids, methodically marching through the stores to get everything organized. Angela had shown more enthusiasm over the vehicle they bought than the person who would be actually driving it. She really didn’t mind the fact it wouldn’t be ready for a couple of days. Jake wouldn’t leave them stranded. Another night or two with him checking things out, at least until she knew they were absolutely safe, was a relief in more ways than one.

  When he left it would be just the three of them. The stark reality of life without Liam would descend like a hammer. She didn’t want to admit it, but it was also comforting to have another adult around. And in his mid-to-late thirties, there was more common ground than if she’d been saddled with someone fresh out of whatever school the FBI graduated from. It was obvious he wasn’t married anymore but the sensitivity he’d shown to the kids, showed an easy familiarity. Maybe he had kids of his own and was missing them.

  Her ears perked as she lifted a milk jug to put away. Had Angela just called for her? She left the milk on the counter and went to the door of the kitchen, cocking her head to listen. She heard nothing but the running of water filling the bath. She shuddered and rubbed her upper arms. Angela was right about the chill in the house. She shook her head realizing she didn’t even know where the thermostat was. She’d have to get Jake to show her where it was.

  Stepping back into the kitchen her eyes flashed wide in surprise. The milk jug was now on the kitchen table? She left it on the counter, next to the fridge. She huffed a fast sigh; she was so distracted by what’d happened that she couldn’t remember even simple things.

  No. She knew where she left the damn milk!

  Didn’t she? With another sigh she stepped to the table to grab it. She paused for a moment to watch the snow coming down, a wall of white that shifted and danced in the air. She couldn’t even see the beach or the river anymore. Was this what they meant by a snow squall? Squall. What a strange word. It was mesmerizing though; watching it swirl and eddy in the low light shining from the kitchen.

  She turned her head at the sound of the back door opening and the thuds of stamping feet at the entranceway. She watched as Mark walked past the kitchen, his arms laden with a few snowy logs. Jake was right on his heels, but he paused at the kitchen entry.

  Snowflakes clustered on his eyelashes and beard growth when he smiled and jerked his head, signaling the counter next to the sink. “If you’re pouring, I wouldn’t mind a stiff drink to take the chill out of my bones.”

  She looked over to where he’d signaled, and her breath froze in her chest. Next to the sink was an amber bottle with a familiar white label. Jack Daniels Honey? Seeing the glass next to it, filled with ice cubes and the liquor, she gasped. She couldn’t catch her breath.

  Jack Daniels Honey had been Liam’s drink! He’d have one after dinner every night. But how—

  Fighting the sudden dizzy spell that came over her, her mind scrambled, recalling the trip to town and coming home. She hadn’t bought the bottle of Jack, let alone pour a drink! Where had it come from? It hadn’t been there before. Hell, a bag of groceries was next to it! Groceries, she’d put there.

  Jake’s head edged forward, his eyes narrowed. “Are you okay?” His gaze flitted between Lydia and the half-empty bottle, while his voice was barely above a whisper, “How many drinks have you had?”

  She gripped the handle of the fridge and glared at him, “None! I didn’t pour that drink and I sure as hell didn’t buy that bottle of liquor! I picked up wine today but not that.” She turned her head, staring at the bottle for a few beats.

  How in God’s name, had it gotten there? There was only her and Angela in the house, and Angela was upstairs taking a bath! There was only the two of them. Hell, she’d even locked the front door when they’d come in. Old habits from living in the big city.

  She turned back to Jake, taking a deep breath. “Did you buy that whisky? I know I didn’t.” One thing at a time to get to the bottom of this.

  He shook his head while his face tightened, looking at her with a skeptical glint in his eye. Shit. It was obvious; he thought she was losing it. Still holding the wet logs in his arms he stepped closer, peering at her like a bug under a microscope. “Lydia. It’s okay to have a drink. You’ve been through some—

  “No!” She spun away from him and then lurched over to the counter. She grabbed the glass of Jack and just stood there for a moment fighting the tightness in her throat. This wasn’t right. The insanity of finding an opened bottle of whisky was bad enough. But why did it have to be Jack Daniels Honey?

  Angela. It had to be Angela. If not, she really was losing her mind. First the jug of milk on the table and now the bottle of Jack?

  She took a deep breath and lifted the glass to take a long swallow. The cool burning sensation was real, the welcome jolt bringing her back to reason. She’d ask Angela about the whisky when she finished her bath. Maybe her daughter had put that particular bottle there to give her comfort? Knowing it was Liam’s drink? Somehow Angela had managed to buy it without anyone noticing. That had to be it.

  Her mouth turned down in a frown. Some freaking town, willing to sell a bottle of hard liquor to a fifteen-year-old! She knew the minimum age was twenty-one in New York, just like in Florida!

  She looked over to see Jake watching her with a steady gaze. There was no way she was getting into this with him. This was between her and her daughter. She took another glass from the cabinet and poured a stiff one for the agent. Her head tipped to the side and she shrugged, walking over to the fridge for ice. “Well, the bottle’s here now, however it got here.” Affecting a casual ease, she waved her hand, signaling for him to leave with the wood. “I’ll bring this in. You’ve got your hands full.”

  “It had to be Angela.” Jake let out a long sigh through pursed lips. “Kids.” He adjusted the load of wood and left the room.

  She stared at the bottle as she walked by. The other part of the mystery was why it was half gone if Angela had just bought it? Surely, if her under-aged daughter was smart enough to somehow get her hands on a bottle of whiskey, she’d be smart enough to water it down if she’d sneaked some? And for sure, Jake had noticed that too. There wasn’t much that got by him.

  Following Jake into the living room she saw Mark was on his knees in front of the fireplace breaking up the shoe boxes and tossing them onto the grate. He looked up with a smile. “This will warm things up. There’s a big pile of wood out there. Maybe enough to get us through the winter.”

  Before she had a chance to say anything, Jake leaned over, tossing some small twigs on the pile of cardboard. He smiled, looking over at Mark, “Hate to break it to you, but that pile will be gone by Christmas if the weather keeps up like this...which of course it will.” He threw some more twigs on and then reached into his coat pocket. Bending over, he handed Mark a lighter. “You do the honors, son.”

  When he straightened, she handed the glass of whiskey to him. She then leaned over, putting her hand on Mark’s shoulder. “I can see a new job for you, Mark. Chief wood hauler and fire starter. Good job.”

  She deliberated for just a second whether to go upstairs to confront Angela or just wait for her to come down. “I’m going to throw a roast in the oven and get dinner started.”

  She left them tending the fire and she paused at the stairs, glancing up and seeing her daughter emerge from the bathroom, a cloud of steam trailing her. Yeah. She’d wait to chat with Angela later. The last thing she needed was her daughter going off the rails, sneaking booze and then maybe getting into drugs. It would be easy for her to throw in with the wrong kids at a new school and go astray.

  She needed a drink. And drinking Liam’s brand wasn’t all that bad. If only he was there to share it. She gritted her teeth. She wasn’t going there; if she did, she’d start bawling again.

  FIFTEEN

  Mark

  MARK SAT BACK ON HIS HAUNCHES GAZING at the curls of orange flame. Jake was beside him on
the floor, sitting with his legs stretched and crossed while he sipped his drink. It didn’t seem right somehow. Here was this guy making himself at home, getting drunk when he was supposed to be watching over them, keeping them safe. And what was with “son” business? He wasn’t his father.

  He’d put up with all the questions when they were getting the wood. Being polite even though he wanted to yell at Jake and tell him to shut up. He’d seen enough TV shows to know when he was being grilled. Jake didn’t believe him that he’d seen that old guy. Somehow he’d convinced Mom and Angela to doubt what he’d told them as well. They’d see. In the meantime, he was going to keep his mouth shut about any other weird stuff.

  His eyes narrowed when he looked over at Jake. He was as comfortable as can be, moving right in. “I didn’t think you were allowed to drink when you’re on duty.”

  Jake watched him over the rim of the glass and then spoke, “It’s just one drink, buddy. Just enough to take the chill from my bones.”

  At the creak of the stair, they turned and saw Angela standing in the doorway. The fleecy robe parted slightly to reveal her plaid pajamas and her hair hung in wet strings when she bent over to warm her hands over the fire. She flashed a smile at Mark. “The fire’s good, isn’t it?”

  Jake got to his feet and drained the glass of whiskey. “If you’re done in the bathroom, Ange, I’m overdue for a shower.” He set the glass on the table and walked over to the sofa, grabbing a small satchel. “You two can look after the fire, right?”