The mother was having second thoughts as to his ability to protect them, but that was okay. Far better that she supported her son right then. The kid had seen something, but it sure hadn’t been some guy gawking at the water. There wasn’t a soul around. It had to be a trick of the light or maybe his imagination.
He glanced at the stairs, hearing the murmur of their voices before the small bangs of drawers shutting signaled they were getting dressed. They had a full day ahead, getting more groceries, the banking and cruising car lots. With any luck, they’d be ready soon to get on with it.
This relocation assignment was a pain in the ass. He was an FBI agent for Pete’s sake! And here he was, out in the middle of nowhere, playing nursemaid to the family of a dead guy. He shook his head. What a drag; ferrying them around, acting like a tour guide, holding their hands as they eased into a new life...what a tedious pain.
He wandered down the hall to get a coffee. As he sipped it, he stood at the kitchen window looking out at the rocky shoreline. There were a few outcroppings of trees and low-lying scrub cedar that the kid could have mistaken for a man.
But the kid had also described a cap and even such detail as the guy’s hands in his pockets. That didn’t sound like he’d seen some bush or something. Unless the kid was acting out a bit, looking for attention. That wouldn’t be unheard of with these kinds of families, especially for the kids involved.
Still. He gulped the coffee and then strode from the room. One more check outside wouldn’t hurt. As he passed the door to the basement, he noticed that it was ajar and the light was on. He could have sworn that he’d shut that door and turned the light off last night. He darted his eyes to the left and right. The guy outside, now this?
He slipped his gun out and stepped inside, peering into the dim space at the bottom of the stairs before he flipped another light switch next to his head. Immediately, the gray cement pad at the bottom showed along with the electrical panel and a washing machine and dryer. He inched down the stairs, his gaze arcing over the musty room while a ticking sound just barely audible, pulsed. At the last step he noticed the laundry tub, and the steady drip of water falling from the tap.
He jerked to the side when a cobweb floated against his cheek, his hand scraping at the threads. Yuck. If there was one thing he hated, it was bugs. Little by little he made his way across the room, leaning to the side to check beside the furnace. Darkness was the sole occupant, aside from a centipede or two. There was nothing down there. He was about to put his gun away when a creak on the ancient steps made him spin, aiming it.
It was the boy! Mark’s eyes flared wide and his feet pounded on the stairs, racing up.
“Hey! Wait.” Jake’s shoulders slumped as he tucked the gun back in his holster. Shit. Mark finding him in the cellar like he was Dirty Harry or something would do nothing to calm the kid’s nerves. The kid was already thinking of getting a gun. For sure now, he would obsess over it.
He walked quickly up the stairs, making sure this time that he turned all the lights off and shut the door tight. Mark stood at the entrance to the kitchen staring at him when he emerged from below. Jake’s head tipped to the side, peering at Mark in return. “Did you go down there earlier? The light was on.”
“No.”
He blew out a long sigh. “Maybe your mom or Angela did. The light was on so I thought I’d check it out. Nothing there but spiders.”
Footsteps on the upper set of stairs let him know that the women were ready. When Lydia rounded the newel post, her head jerked back seeing Mark and him just standing there outside the kitchen.
“I thought we’d check out that beach area before we head to town.” She glanced behind her, “Angela? You coming too?”
But Angela was way ahead of her, handing her the down jacket. “I wouldn’t miss it. I want to take a peek in the barn as well.”
Mark had disappeared into the kitchen, and when he returned he was shoving his arms into his coat.
“We’re ready if you are.” Lydia smiled and her hand rose to rest on her son’s shoulder.
“I’ll just get my jacket.” Jake slipped by them and went to the front door. As he lifted his coat from the hook he glanced down at the small table. The two sets of keys that he’d placed on the table were missing. But Lydia’s purse still sat there.
When he slipped the jacket on, he looked down at the three of them. “Did you take the keys that I put on the table, here?”
Lydia shook her head. “No.”
A quick glance at Angela and Mark showed a puzzled look while they shook their heads. But Mark had been downstairs before the women. Keys just didn’t move themselves. And he’d need those keys to start the car.
“Are you sure you put them there? Check your pockets.” Lydia turned, and her hand was on Mark’s shoulder, nudging him to the back door.
Jake shoved his hands in his pockets but only found a gum wrapper and a ball of lint. He could have sworn he put those keys on the table. Mark. It had to be the kid who’d taken them. He’d have to get him alone and find out where he’d hidden them. What was with that kid? First he sees some mystery guy and then he hides the keys. If that wasn’t a cry for attention he didn’t know what was.
As he passed by the kitchen, he looked across the room to the window, doing a quick scan to the outside. But it wasn’t the beach or water that caught his eye. The two sets of keys were littered over the kitchen table, the two silver rings sat next to them. Not only had the keys been moved but the little shit had taken them off the rings.
He stomped over and scooped the mess of keys and rings up. He couldn’t stop the roll of his eyes when he shoved them into his pocket. It was a small thing, and perhaps for the boy’s sake, it was best ignored. It wouldn’t do to reward that kind of behavior. The kid was obviously acting out, but you could catch more flies with honey than vinegar. His grandmother had always said that, and so far, it worked most of the time.
When he stepped out into the fresh air, the sun was now hidden by a bank of gray clouds. Snow clouds. It was sure cold enough to snow. He flipped the buttons on his coat closed and then walked quickly to catch up with them. They were almost at the beach. He’d get a clear view from where the kid had stood and hopefully find some kind of explanation to reassure them. But after the key incident he was even more convinced that Mark was making it up.
THIRTEEN
Angela
ANGELA SHOVED THE FUZZY MITTENS IN HER POCKETS. It had been a long afternoon running here and there getting groceries, and supplies, and she was tired. She gazed out the car window at fields of long grass, dead and leached of all color, while trees were black with only the odd, brown leaf stubbornly clinging.
They were still kind of crawling along the road. A quick glance out the front window revealed the yellow school bus they’d been trailing for the last few miles. The car came to a halt, right behind the bus. She looked out the window at a squat, brick bungalow. It was probably their closest neighbor from the looks of it. The driveway was long, easily accommodating the transport truck and an ATV parked at the end. Past the vehicles, at the very back of the driveway was a rusty, gray-metal shed with a door swaying from the track in the wind.
It was when the bus started again that the student who’d gotten off could be seen. A teenage girl with a blue hat slung low above a cascade of bronze curls, in a bulky parka and jeans. The girl turned her head peering at their car, a puzzled look in her eyes: she came to a standstill, openly gawking. She looked to be about the same age as Angela.
Jake broke the silence, “I guess we know where your bus stop is now.”
The bus turned down another roadway, leaving the way clear. In the distance the tops of the trees outside her house, and the roof could be seen.
“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 groceries. 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 re
ally 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.
Haunted Hideout: Paranormal Suspense (The Haunted Ones Book 1) Page 6
