The Death of Addie Gray

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The Death of Addie Gray Page 22

by Amy Cross


  “I do!” I say firmly. “I really, really do. So please, take your wild paranormal theories and go explain them to the federal investigators. I'm sure they'll be fascinated to hear what you think happened. Should be real good for your career to act like a complete lunatic.”

  “You won't back me up?”

  “I can't,” I tell him. “I'm sorry. I hope you understand.”

  He stares at me, and I can tell that he finally understands my position.

  “Perhaps you need time,” he says cautiously, clearly disappointed. “A few days, a week or so, and then -”

  I shake my head.

  “Mrs. Gray, please, we're on the verge of -”

  “I'm sorry,” I continue, “but this isn't something Addie and I want to be a part of. We're out of it now, and we want to focus on rebuilding our lives.”

  He pauses, as if he's trying to think of some way to change my mind.

  “I know what I say,” he says finally, “and even if you're not willing to...” His voice trails off for a moment, before he takes a step back. “I should get back to my room. I have a lot to write down, and I need to see if I can find a way to fill in the gaps.” He watches me for a moment, as if he's still trying to think of a way to convince me, and then he turns and limps over to the doorway. At the last moment, however, he stops and turns back to me. “Oh, and by the way, I spoke to a few of Officer Murphy's colleagues over at the jail earlier. Did you hear about Jesophat O'Reilly?”

  “What about him?”

  “He passed last night,” he replies. “Right around the time we were in the barn. Apparently the last thing he said was that he could see Serriah standing next to his bed. According to the orderly who checked on him, there were still fresh tears running from his eyes for a good couple of minutes after his heart stopped. How about that, huh? Seems like a hell of a coincidence.”

  With that, he turns and shuffles out of the room, leaving me alone and in pain. Looking up at the drip next to my bed, I can't help wishing that they could give me a little more morphine, but I guess I need to stay alert for when Addie gets back from her X-ray. I also need to stay on my guard in case anyone tries to interrogate her about the events of the past few weeks, because they might try to trick her into implicating herself.

  I'm her mother, and I need to protect her.

  We're fine now. Brabham can do and say what he wants, but Addie and I are out of that mess.

  In fact, I think I can hear her now. Someone's wheeling a trolley along the corridor, and I can hear a familiar voice chattering away to one of the nurses. Any minute now, Addie'll come through that door and we can start planning what we're going to do when we get home. I'm sure there'll be a lot of questions to answer, and a lot to arrange, but I'm already starting to think that we should sell the house and start again somewhere new, somewhere far away from all the bad memories. I suggested to Addie earlier, and she agreed, that we need to focus on looking ahead, not looking back.

  Turning, I watch the open doorway. The trolley sounds closer and closer out there. Any moment it'll appear and I'll see Addie's smiling face again.

  Any moment now.

  She'll be back any moment.

  Epilogue

  One year later

  “This is a nice house,” Diane says approvingly, wandering back through from the hallway. “Very nice. Much better than that last place. I'm so glad you and Addie decided to move.”

  “There were a few too many bad memories in the old house,” I point out, as I toss some more leaves into the salad bowl. “I figured it'd be healthier for us to move on.”

  “It kinda turned into the murder house for a while,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I can't believe the realtor managed to sell it. I mean, who'd want to live in a place where the previous owner and a cop were both murdered? Then again, I suppose there are some disgusting, low-life people who might get a kick out of something so sick. In fact, come to think of it, I suppose it'd provide something of a chill, something to keep you on your toes. It's almost sexy in a way.” She takes a stick of celery and bites the tip, seemingly lost in her own thoughts. “Did they ever catch whoever did all of that?”

  I shake my head, hoping to skip that part of the conversation entirely. We've just returned from the one-year memorial service for Rob, and the day was even more stressful than I'd expected.

  Hearing laughter outside, I look over at the back door just in time to see Addie and Suzie running past. I can't help smiling. So long as she's managing okay, I know I'll be fine.

  “Thank God those two are pals again, huh?” Diane continues. “Suzie was so sad when they couldn't hang out, and I think she's pretty much over the shock of that whole biting thing.” She pauses for a moment. “Addie is better, isn't she? She's not still being weird?”

  “She's back to normal,” I reply, as my smile grows. “She's just as carefree and happy and loving as she was before the coma.”

  “But what about all that -”

  “She hasn't said another word about it,” I add, interrupting her. “It's over.”

  “So quickly?” She pauses. “Are you sure she isn't just -”

  “There's no need to talk about it,” I continue. “Please, she might overhear and then... It's in the past.”

  “I guess seeing a child psychologist really worked, huh?”

  “Something like that,” I reply. Again, skipping the details seems like a good idea. If Diane wants to believe that Addie has been seeing a therapist over the past year, that's fine by me. Anything to stop the relentless flow of questions. Maybe one day I'll be able to explain everything, but now I'm just trying to focus on what's right in front of me. All that matters is keeping Addie safe.

  “Suzie!” Diane calls out suddenly, heading over to the door. “I'm sorry to break up play-time, but we have to get going! Don't worry, we'll come again next weekend!”

  “Are you sure you two don't want to stay for dinner?” I ask. “We have more than enough.”

  “Next time,” she replies, as Suzie comes running in and stops breathlessly next to her mother.

  “Did you have fun?” I ask.

  She nods. “Thank you for the cookies, Mrs. Gray.”

  “That's fine,” I reply. I pause for a moment, wondering whether I should even ask the next question. “And... everything was okay with Addie?”

  She nods again. “It was a lot of fun. She'll be in soon, she's just picking some flowers.”

  “I told you your little pal would get back to normal,” Diane says, tousling the hair on top of her head.

  “She's still a little weird,” Suzie replies.

  “How so?” I ask, feeling a faint flicker of concern.

  “Oh, it's just that sometimes she asks me weird questions,” Suzie continues. “Like, just now she was asking me what her favorite food is, and her favorite color. And her favorite TV shows too. It's like, why does she have to ask me? I told her, but it was kinda strange.”

  “Huh,” I reply, forcing a smile.

  “She was probably just testing you,” Diane says, taking Suzie's hand and leading her to the front door. “She wanted to see how much you remembered about her. I hope you gave her the right answers!”

  It takes a few minutes for them to get ready and head out to the car, and Addie doesn't come to wave them off. I stand in the doorway until their car has disappeared into the distance, and then I wander back into the house. Everything is all laid out for dinner, and when I reach the window I look out and see Addie on her knees at the far end of the garden, still picking flowers and carefully smelling each one.

  “She was asking me what her favorite food is,” Suzie's voice says, echoing in my thoughts, “and her favorite color.”

  I pause, feeling another gnawing hint of doubt in the pit of my stomach. To be honest, over the past few months there have been a few moments when Addie has said strange things, things that really don't quite seem to fit with what she should remember. At the same time, she's seemed happier than ever, a
nd definitely more herself, so I figure there's no way I should have any doubts. That Serriah girl is gone now, and I'm certain I'd be able to tell if she'd secretly found some way to stay in Addie's place.

  I feel a vibration in my pocket. Taking out my phone, I see that it's another message from Detective Brabham, asking when I'm free to take Addie to Hedderburgh. Apparently they still have some questions about what happened that night, but there's no way I want Addie to have to relive those memories. I'll just keep ignoring Brabham's messages, and eventually he'll leave us alone. I'm not going to do anything that risks reopening those wounds for my daughter.

  Heading to the door, I'm about to call Addie in so she can wash her hands for dinner, but I hesitate for a moment.

  “Addie!” I imagine myself yelling. “Dinnertime!”

  She'd come running in, I'm sure she would.

  “Serriah!” I imagine myself saying. “Dinnertime!”

  How would she react then? Would she frown and ask what I meant, or would she glance at me with a hint of suspicion?

  I know it's foolish to have these doubts, but I can't help myself. For the past few months, I've managed to completely avoid using Addie's name. It wasn't easy at first, but eventually I learned how best to keep from testing her. I simply never, ever use her name.

  “Dinnertime,” I call out.

  I wait, holding my breath.

  “Coming!” she shouts, and I hear her hurrying across the yard.

  The funny thing is, I've noticed she never calls me Mom or Mommy or Mum or Momma or Mama, or anything like that. Not once in the past year, ever since that night in the barn. I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation for that, though. I should ask her some time, and I will.

  “There are for you!” she says with a grin as she reaches the doorway and holds out a small bunch of flowers from the garden.

  “Thank you,” I reply, taking the flowers and giving them a sniff. “That's very sweet of you.”

  “You deserve it, Mama. You -” She stops suddenly, and for a moment there's a flicker of doubt in her eyes. “I mean Mommy. I should go wash my hands now, Mommy.”

  With that, she makes her way through to the bathroom, leaving me standing alone in the doorway with the flowers in my hand. For a moment, all I can do is listen to the sound of her washing her hands.

  It's Addie.

  I know it is.

  Also by Amy Cross

  PERFECT LITTLE MONSTERS

  AND OTHER STORIES

  A husband waits until his wife and children are in bed, before inviting a dangerous man into their home...

  A girl keeps hold of her mother's necklace, as bloodied hands try to tear it from her grasp...

  A gun jams, even as its intended victim begs the universe to let her die...

  Perfect Little Monsters and Other Stories is a collection of short stories by Amy Cross. Some of the stories take place in seemingly ordinary towns, whose inhabitants soon discover something truly shocking lurking beneath the veneer of peace and calm. Others show glimpses of vast, barbaric worlds where deadly forces gather to toy with humanity. All the stories in this collection peel back the face of a nightmare, revealing the horror that awaits. And in every one of the stories, some kind of monster lurks...

  Perfect Little Monsters and Other Stories contains the new stories Perfect Little Monsters, I Hate You, Meat, Fifty Fifty and Stay Up Late, as well as a revised version of the previously-released story The Scream. This book contains scenes of violence, as well as strong language.

  Also by Amy Cross

  ANNIE'S ROOM

  1945 and 2015. Seventy years apart, two girls named Annie move into the same room of the same remote house. Their stories are very different, but tragedy is about to bring them crashing together.

  Annie Riley has just broken both her legs. Unable to leave bed, she's holed up in her new room and completely reliant upon her family for company. She's also the first to notice a series of strange noises in the house, but her parents and brother think she's just letting her imagination run overtime. And then, one night, dark forces start to make their presence more keenly felt, leading to a horrific discovery...

  Seventy years ago, Annie Garrett lived in the same house with her parents. This Annie, however, was very different. Bitter and vindictive and hopelessly devoted to her father, she developed a passionate hatred for her mother. History records that Annie eventually disappeared while her parents were executed for her murder, but what really happened to Annie Garrett, and is her ghost still haunting the house to this day?

  Annie's Room is the story of two girls whose lives just happened to be thrown together by an unlikely set of circumstances, and of a potent evil that blossomed in one soul and then threatened to consume another.

  Also by Amy Cross

  THE FARM

  No-one ever remembers what happens to them when they go into the barn at Bondalen farm. Some never come out again, and the rest... Something about them is different.

  In 1979, the farm is home to three young girls. As winter fades to spring, Elizabeth, Kari and Sara each come to face the secrets of the barn, and they each emerge with their own injuries. But someone else is lurking nearby, a man who claims to be Death incarnate, and for these three girls the spring of 1979 is set to end in tragedy.

  In the modern day, meanwhile, Bondalen farm has finally been sold to a new family. Dragged from London by her widowed father, Paula Ridley hates the idea of rural life. Soon, however, she starts to realize that her new home retains hints of its horrific past, while the darkness of the barn still awaits anyone who dares venture inside.

  Set over the course of several decades, The Farm is a horror novel about people who live with no idea of the terror in their midst, and about a girl who finally has a chance to confront a source of great evil that has been feeding on the farm for generations.

  Also by Amy Cross

  ELI'S TOWN

  “Someone really should go check on Eli...”

  Every year, someone from the Denton family travels to the town of Tulepa, to check on weird old uncle Eli. This time around it's Holly's turn to make the journey, but when she arrives she discovers that not only is Eli missing, but the locals appear to be hiding something.

  Meanwhile, a strange curse seems to have struck the town. Every day, at exactly noon, one resident drops dead. Is the string of sudden fatalities just a coincidence? If it's something more sinister, why does no-one seem to be trying to uncover the truth? And what do these deaths have to do with the disappearance of Eli Denton, a strange old man who has barely even left his house in more than a decade?

  Eli's Town is a horror novel about an eccentric but seemingly harmless man who discovers a new way to live, and about his niece's desperate attempt to uncover the truth before she too succumbs to the town's mysteries.

  OTHER BOOKS

  BY AMY CROSS INCLUDE

  Horror

  A House in London

  Annie's Room

  The Farm

  Eli's Town

  American Coven

  At the Edge of the Forest

  The Ghost of Shapley Hall

  The Blood House

  The Priest Hole (Nykolas Freeman book 1)

  Battlefield (Nykolas Freeman book 2)

  Asylum

  Meds (Asylum 2)

  The Border

  The Devil's Hand

  The Cabin

  After the Cabin

  The Lighthouse

  3AM

  Tenderling

  The Girl Clay

  The Prison

  The Night Girl

  Devil's Briar

  Ward Z

  The Devil's Photographer

  Perfect Little Monsters and Other Stories

  Fantasy / Horror

  Dark Season series 1, 2 & 3

  Ascension (Demon's Grail book 1)

  Evolution (Demon's Grail book 2)

  The 13th Demon (Demon's Grail book 3)

  Dead Souls Vol
umes 1 to 4

  Grave Girl

  Graver Girl (Grave Girl 2)

  Ghosts

  The Library

  Thriller

  Ophelia

  The Dead City (Ophelia 2)

  Fallen Heroes (Ophelia 3)

  The Girl Who Never Came Back

  Other People's Bodies

  Dystopia / Science Fiction

  The Island (The Island book 1)

  Persona (The Island book 2)

  Mass Extinction Event series 1 to 4

 

 

 


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