“And say what?” Janie asked.
“We have to warn them.”
“That’s true. He was parked on our street just this morning.”
Ben stared at me. “Who? McGovern?”
Janie scrolled through her phone.
“Are you calling Mom and Dad or not?”
Janie held up one finger. “Lucy. Hey, Lucy? Ben and I were just hanging out at the library. Liv too. What? I’m not joking. It just closed. Hey, are Mom and Dad home? No reason.” Janie started pulling faces at me. I could hear Lucy’s voice building to a high-pitched shriek. “Hey, Luce—can you put Dad on? Or maybe Mom? No reason.” Janie shook her head at me. “Listen, Lucy. We found out some stuff today and we think we might know who’s sending the letters. Just … I don’t know … stay in the house, okay? You and Mom and Dad. Don’t answer the door for anyone. We’ll be right there. No, I’m not trying to be melodramatic. We’ll be back in less than five minutes. I’m just asking that you not answer the door for the next five minutes. You can handle that, right?” The voice buzzing from Janie’s phone blared more loudly. Ben made a motion with his hand as if to say, Keep it going. He wanted Janie to keep Lucy on the line as we got our bikes and started pedaling. “Okay now, there’s no need to get crude. I love you, Lucy. And Mom and Dad too. Ben also loves you all … Liv doesn’t but I bet she feels a certain fondness. Anyway, we’ll be back soon.”
We pedaled home as fast as we could. As he turned onto our street, Ben asked, “Do you want to go back to your place?”
“Are you kidding?”
“Your funeral.” We cycled past and I saw the kitchen lights still on. I finally texted my mom, Coming home from the library, just as we parked our bikes into the drive a few doors down. We stood in the yard a second as Ben mostly spoke to Janie. “Let’s be clear: We tell Mom and Dad everything we know.”
“We don’t actually know a whole lot.”
Ben continued, “We’re going to stay composed so that we speak clearly. Remember that we’ve been dealing with this whole thing for weeks. They’re just catching up. Dad will probably freak out. We need to let him rant a bit. Deep down, he’s a reasonable man. And if something really went on between her and McGovern, Mom might very well blame herself. But really that part is between them. We don’t go near that. Understand?”
Janie and I nodded solemnly even as we understood that Ben’s pep talk was mostly for his own benefit.
Just as we got to the steps, the porch light blinked on. Mr. Donahue stepped outside. “Do you three want to tell me what’s going on? You’ve frightened Lucy half to death.” Behind the screen door, Lucy hovered and glared.
Ben looked up and down the street. He leaned over to me. “Do you see his car?”
“No, but it’s so dark.” The street had seemed positively fluorescent back when we snuck off to the park, but now Olcott Place looked full of shadows.
Ben spoke up to his dad. “Let’s all go inside, okay?” He even checked the trees and bushes as we made our way up the walk.
“You’re acting paranoid. What is this?” Mr. Donahue called up the stairs. “Lindsay, the kids are back.”
“How long have you all been home?” Ben asked him.
“Couple hours. Are you going to fill me in now? Because it’s family meeting time and I want some answers.” He called up again, “Lindsay, we need you down here.”
Ben turned to Janie and murmured directions quietly. “Bring Liv with you and go upstairs to pack a bag. Ask Mom to do the same.” Mr. Donahue looked bewildered to see Ben taking charge. As we climbed the steps, I heard Ben tell him, “A family meeting’s a great idea, Dad, but I think we should hold it at a hotel. Let’s just go stay somewhere else. Just one night to talk things through.”
“What are you talking about—stay in a hotel? Do you have any idea what the mortgage on this place is? A hotel!” he scoffed.
Janie and I ducked into her room, right as Mrs. Donahue came out in the hallway. “Girls, what are you up to now?” She stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips, watching Janie dump a bunch of clothes into her duffel bag. “Jane Louise—what’s gotten into you? It’s the wrong night for a sleepover, I’ll tell you that. You’ve stirred up your sister and she’s got your dad all riled.”
Janie faced her mom squarely and spoke clearly. This was the Janie I knew, the one her family didn’t. “Mom, we have to get out of the house. Now.”
“What’s happened? Another letter?”
“Did we get one?”
“Yes? I don’t know. Is that what you’re saying?”
I wondered if my family sounded so much like crossed cell phone calls. I waded in, trying to translate. “Mrs. Donahue, we don’t know about a new letter from the Sentry. But we might have an idea about who the Sentry is.”
“Who?”
I stared past her at Janie, who stood frozen, with wide eyes and vigorously shaking head.
Mrs. Donahue whipped her head to Janie and then back to me. “For goodness’ sake, girls, who?”
“We think it’s Ned McGovern,” I said. “I’m sorry if that’s, ummm … awkward—”
“What do you mean? Why?”
“Well, we think he spent a lot of time in this house as a little boy. We think he had a hard childhood. That for some reason, he feels possessive of the house.”
“Why would that be awkward? We’ve sought a restraining order against the man; he’s acted absolutely bizarrely. It makes perfect sense …” Mrs. Donahue trailed off. “It’s just that as the professional who handled the sale, it doesn’t make much sense to drive us out. He loses his commission.”
“Only if he’s held responsible,” I pointed out.
And Janie added, “If not, it gives him the chance to earn that commission all over again.”
Mrs. Donahue stood up straight and looked at both Janie and me like she was suddenly seeing us clearly for the first time. “That’s an astute point.” She smiled wryly. “How long were you girls at the library anyway?”
Janie said quietly, “Do you worry Daddy will blame you?”
“Because I fell in love?” That was my cue to try to crawl into the carpet. But then Mrs. Donahue said, “It’s true that this was my dream house, sweetheart. But moving here had other benefits. Lucy was driving herself mad with stress—just way too much pressure. And Ben”—Mrs. Donahue pursed her lips—“Ben needed a fresh start as well. And then there was your father’s business.” She sighed. “Across the board, the move made sense. And I loved the house.”
Janie asked, “But didn’t you and Mr. McGovern … ?”
“Me and Mr. McGovern what?” Mrs. Donahue appeared genuinely puzzled. And then I watched as she realized what Janie was really asking.
She breathed deeply. “Jane Louise.” Mrs. Donahue narrowed her eyes at me too, but she didn’t say my name in the same firm voice. “I am not in the habit of defending my marriage to my children.” Janie and I stared at each other. She hadn’t actually answered a question. “Girls, is that clear? I expect a certain amount of gossip in a small town but not in my own home.” She glared at me as if I was fully to blame for this latest erosion of Donahue family bliss.
“Of course,” I said quickly and desperately.
“Yes. Mom, I’m really sorry.” Janie’s eyes brimmed. “It just seemed like you were texting him a lot and Dad seemed mad and then Mr. McGovern kept showing up.”
“Honey, it’s okay.” Mrs. Donahue swooped us both in for a hug. “You are growing up and you understand more than I give you credit for. But some things, some relationships, they are just really complex. Most marriages are like that.”
She dropped her hands from around our shoulders and took both Janie’s hands in her own. I pretty much ceased to exist in the room—and that was honestly preferable. “Nothing happened between Ned McGovern and me.” Janie nodded. “And please tell your brother and sister that.” She headed out to the hallway and we heard her calling for Mr. Donahue as she bounded down the stairs.
“Did you believe her?” Janie asked.
“Of course,” I answered, as if it mattered what I believed about anyone really.
When we joined the rest of the family on the first floor, Ben was trying valiantly to explain how we’d come to suspect Ned McGovern, even as Mr. Donahue seemed more and more convinced he was out of his mind. “You’re telling me that there’s a maze of secret chambers behind almost every room of the house? You realize that when you purchase a house, especially a landmark property, it’s customary to receive schematics of the property.”
“I didn’t know that,” Ben admitted. “I’ve never purchased a house. However, who would provide a home buyer with that?”
“Well, generally the realtor.”
“Right.” We all sat silently and waited for that to sink in.
“No.” Mr. Donahue began pacing around the living room, with his hands clasped behind his head. “NO. Lindsay, are you hearing this?”
“Well, it does explain how he managed to get inside to leave those letters on our beds. McGovern might very well still have a key.”
“No doubt, Mom. That’s a good point but—” Ben looked at us for help.
“Some of the passages lead outside,” Janie rushed to explain. “So, you know, you can access them from outside.”
“So this guy could be coming and going freely, without any of us knowing?” Lucy demanded. “Could he be watching us?”
Janie quickly crossed over to the dining room and pulled at the leather copy of Great Expectations. The bookcase opened and revealed the tiny room behind the wall.
It was empty.
“We found an old sleeping bag in there, with books and even chocolate,” she told her parents. “He used to sleep and watch from there, maybe while the family who lived here carried on their normal lives. Why would a kid do that? And why wouldn’t anyone notice? Why wouldn’t anyone miss him?”
Suddenly, there was a crash.
I checked to see who had left the room. I figured Lucy, but there she stood, with all the fireplace implements within reach. The Donahue family had all stepped closer to the dining room, to scrutinize the secret chamber behind the bookcase.
The crash sounded wooden and heavy and finished with a metal clanking. Ben met my eyes from across the room and instinctively we both stepped away from the walls. He said it before I could pronounce the words:
“He’s here. He’s in the house now.”
“How could he possibly have gotten inside? We’ve been here; we’ve been home.” Mrs. Donahue seemed genuinely confused.
Ben tried to break it to her. “I think that’s what he does, Mom.” She recoiled and stood in the center of the living room, hugging her own body, as if through making herself as small as possible, she could avoid any contact with the Sentry.
“Let’s just stay calm,” I said. “Call the police. We’ll wait for the cops at my house.”
But when I checked my phone, it was useless. At the same time, Mr. Donahue shouted, “I don’t have service!”
Ben waved his arms wildly. He raised his index finger against his lips and then whispered, “McGovern might be jamming service.” He stepped lightly over to the landline and lifted the receiver to his ear. We all waited. Ben shook his head slowly.
Another crash echoed, definitely from upstairs. Mrs. Donahue jumped and then called out, “Ned. Stop this. This is crazy!” Mr. Donahue pointed to the front door and we moved en masse in that direction.
First we noticed the metal glider pushed in front of the door and realized he had been out there, moving stealthily, even as we stood around chatting. Then we smelled the smoke. Lucy craned her neck to see. “The porch is burning. He set the house on fire!” We backed away then, some of us clutching at one another, some of us fighting the urge to scream.
For the first few minutes, it had seemed like just another mystery. Where was Ned McGovern? What would the Sentry shake up next? But at that moment I saw a look pass between Mr. and Mrs. Donahue—terror.
Mr. Donahue led us back to the kitchen. We moved as one entity, facing different directions in case Ned broke through a wall and we needed to fight him off. We felt the heat against the back door even before we saw the flames. “Dad? Windows?” Ben asked in a quick, low voice.
Mr. Donahue clutched his head, trying to think. “Double locks. We added all this extra security.” He sounded apologetic.
Ben spoke directly to me. “We’ll use one of the passages. All that racket, he won’t expect us to go upstairs.”
I shook my head. “It will take too much time for everyone to climb down. And that might have been the clanking sound. We could get up there and find that he somehow destroyed the whole ladder.”
“Smart,” Ben said. One word. And my chest felt warm not because the house was on fire but because I impressed a boy.
Together we shepherded everyone the few steps to the cellar. “Livvie and I have a plan,” he whispered. “You have to trust us.” Ben turned the knob and the door stuck. He furrowed his brow as he rammed his shoulder against the wood. It opened with a muffled thud. Ben met my eyes and glanced up. I knew what he was thinking—the sound was enough to have clued in the Sentry.
We hustled everyone down the steps. Ben led up front and I took the back, twisting my neck, half expecting McGovern to burst through the basement door. I heard the exact moment Ben opened up the refrigerator.
“You want me to do what?” his father asked.
“You have to trust us,” I hissed. “Ben knows what he’s doing. He’ll go first and lead you through. I’ll be behind you.”
“Yeah?” Ben asked, over the heads of his family.
“Yeah.” I motioned to the fridge. “Go.” He hoisted himself up, crouched low, and crawled through.
I got to work tying back the refrigerator door. For a second, I debated it. If I tied the rope to the anchor hook, it would tip off the Sentry for sure. But if I let the door close behind me, we had no way back. We didn’t know yet if the path was clear.
I knotted the rope. One by one, we all scrambled up and through. Mr. Donahue tried switching places with me, but I nudged him forward. I whispered, “I know what to do.”
Crawling through the gritty tunnel, I felt hot and sweaty and tried not to let my imagination get away from me. I wondered if the house above us was already burning. In front of us, Ben called out a constant stream of reassurances. “Low here. Watch your head. Almost there. Keep moving.” He kept his tone just as upbeat, just as steady when he said, “Hey, Ned. What’s going on?”
Mr. Donahue and I hadn’t reached the end of the crawl space. He stopped short in front of me. “Go back,” he whispered.
“No way.”
“Olivia, right now,” Mr. Donahue ordered. Then he pushed forward to be with his family. If I crawled back, I’d be crouched down in the hot tunnel, listening to something terrible happen. I knew that. Stuck in that long coffin of darkness and dust, witnessing, with a fire behind me.
So I pushed forward. When I reached the wine cellar, I found that Ned had everyone sitting with their backs pressed to the stone wall. He stood over the group waving two long pieces of metal. One was a set of lawn shears. One was an ax. As Ned spoke, he gestured with the tools. They made the shadow he cast on the wall look like a monster with claws.
I stayed in the tunnel, hopefully unseen. Ned was already ranting.
“You have no idea what you have done. What you have trampled on. This was a sacred place. This was a place of joy. You came in here with your complaints and your petty disagreements and had the nerve to be ungrateful. I kept waiting. I thought maybe you just needed a reminder. How did you manage to live in this kind of splendor and still be so unworthy? Langsom property for generations. And I was no Langsom. I was never allowed to forget that. I was a visitor—a charity case. And then the mighty fell, didn’t they? Suddenly there was a window of opportunity.” I watched a vein in Ned’s temple pulse with the rhythm of his anger. “I just needed a few more mont
hs to get together the down payment.”
“So you did write the letters to drive us out?” Lucy piped up. Obviously, there was no one she was reluctant to antagonize.
“I wrote the letters to warn you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Lucy cried out. With every word, she seemed just as undone as Ned. “Warn us about what? Your hidden collection of scout badges? The commission you earned from the sale brought you closer to the down payment. That must have been so frustrating—like some sad real estate O. Henry story. But if you handled the resale, you’d double your commission. And who would want to buy the notorious Sentry house? You would do us a favor, taking the property off our hands. Except Dad got a little overzealous and added you to the lawsuit. That complicated the situation. Otherwise, everyone would be calling it the McGovern house, wouldn’t they?”
Ned’s grip tightened around the ax in his hand. I saw his knuckles whiten. “It will always be the Langsom house. And I was always looking in. Even from the inside, I was still looking in.” He scoffed. “You’re no different. Do you really think they call it the Donahue house? When they talk about it tomorrow, they’ll say, ‘Did you hear about the Langsom house? It burst into flames.’ ”
With that, he stretched his arm and went after the pipe above their heads with the ax. I didn’t know what it was at first, but saw the look of horror wash over Mr. Donahue’s face. And then, one by one, the rest of us seemed to realize the danger. Janie dove first. She clawed at his arm and bit his shoulder and even stomped on his knee. After Janie broke the spell, the whole mob of us tackled McGovern while he flailed with his sharp blades against the gas line.
A fire raged above us. And Ned McGovern raged too. He was so strong. He kept tossing Mr. Donahue off him like he was a dog shaking off drops of water. And then he would swing his arm and the shears would arc through the air, the blades almost whistling. Every time the head of the ax clanged against the pipe, we expected the air to explode. “Get out!” Mr. Donahue screamed to the rest of us.
Ben bent toward his dad and pointed at the passage to the yard. Mr. Donahue shook his head.
Creep Page 20
