by Jill Bisker
My cousin looked at my hands and rolled her eyes. “Yes, you do.”
Connie stopped to peruse the nail colors as I went in search of hair supplies. I saw a cardboard display full of brushes and assorted hair binders sticking out of an aisle two rows down and I headed that direction. I turned down the aisle, stepping around the display, when I spied my arch-nemesis from high school. Shit! Melanie Thomas, the girl who would single-handedly ruin my senior year. I had tried to be friends with her when she had first moved to town, but instead she got to know me just well enough to make up stories about me and spread them around. I couldn’t believe my so-called friends believed the venom she’d spewed, but they did. I’d ended up quitting every club and activity I was in just to avoid her and to get away from the pain. Now here she was again. I looked down at my jeans and remembered just how unkempt I must appear. I quickly turned to go before she could see me but it was too late. She looked up and recognized me. Not wanting to look like I was running from her but really not wanting to talk to her, I halted midstream and stepped to the side thinking I would try to act nonchalant. Instead, my foot caught in the display throwing me off-balance. I flung out an arm and grabbed the side of the display and a cascade of barrettes, headbands and bobby pins flew to the floor.
Humiliated, I bent over to try to pick up the mess I’d made only to look over and see a pair of black loafers appear before me. Looking up I saw Mr. Cooper standing over me with another disapproving scowl. “You girls are always a problem when you come in here. You need to pick that up, on the double, and don’t put anything in your pockets.”
“Yes, Mr. Cooper,” I answered sheepishly. “No, Mr. Cooper, absolutely not.” He walked away in disgust as I watched him go back to his counter. I glanced back to the mess I made and there was Melanie, watching.
“Hey, Laney,” she said, looking down at me. “Nice outfit, nice to see you are still shopping at the local thrift shops.”
“Melanie,” I answered, nodding at her as I reached down to pick up more items. I noticed the box of hair coloring she held in her hand.
She looked down at the box and realized I was checking out her purchase. “Nice to see you again, Laney. So what have you been up to?” I didn’t know it was possible to be phony and condescending at the same time.
“I came home to help my mother remodel and redecorate my grandfather’s old house,” I said, standing up. I looked pointedly at the box she held. She’d always claimed her coal black hair was a natural product of her genes.
Anticipating a snide comment, she answered smoothly, “I’m just picking up some color for my mother to hide her gray. Would you like me to help you pick some out too?”
I sucked in my breath at the jab as Connie came up behind me, laughing, with a bottle of pink hair color. “Let’s put this in too. Your mother will scream.” She came to a halt as soon as she saw Melanie. “Mel, if it isn’t our lucky day.”
I saw Melanie draw back and shrink as if she’d run into a cobra. She could always get my goat, but she had nothing on Connie, and we all knew it.
Connie continued without missing a beat, “How’s the job going?”
The smile suddenly froze on Melanie’s lips and she gulped visibly. You could feel the ice in the air. “Actually, I do have to get going. Call me and we’ll do something,” she said, turning on her heel and walking the other direction. She dropped the box on the shelf as she scurried by.
“You bet,” I answered, knowing there was no way in hell that was going to happen. “How’d you do that?” I asked Connie, as I finished organizing the last of the barrettes and binders.
“There’s been a scandal down at the community college where she works. It seems a professor there is getting a divorce, and the scuttlebutt is that she’s mixed up in it, if you know what I mean. Everyone’s talking about it.”
I was going to say something petty, but now when I should be gloating over Melanie’s downfall I actually found myself feeling sorry for her.
* * * *
“Ouch!” I complained again as Connie jabbed me in the head while pulling another group of hair strands through the plastic highlighting cap.
“We’re almost done,” Connie said impatiently. She preferred to wait and see how my hair color turned out first before trying anything on hers, but I figured my hair could hardly get worse so I had thrown caution to the wind and dove right in.
“It’s been so long I had forgotten what a pain it was to do this. Simon never encouraged me to do much to my hair because he didn’t want me attracting anyone else’s attention. He said he liked the natural look, but apparently that didn’t apply to the bleached blonde tramp I caught him with.”
“Unbelievable,” Connie said, shaking her head. “Just a few more minutes while I apply the coloring, then we’ll go veg on the couch and watch TV.”
We went into the living and turned the TV on. Connie began applying lime green polish to her nails while I put my foot up on the coffee table and painted lavender on my toes.
The Antique Roadshow popped up on PBS so we decided to do some couch-side research on valuing some of the items we might find. The woman on the television held up a vase which she told the viewers she’d gotten from her grandparents when she was married. She explained that while she thought it was ugly, she’d kept it as a memento of her childhood visits to her dear old Gram and Grampa.
“Well, the multi-colored vase you have here is actually Tiffany. It happens to be a rare one that is valued at fifty thousand dollars,” the announcer told the shocked participant.
I gasped, “Holy crap! Now that’s what we need to look for in this mess,” I said to Connie as I finished putting a coat of purple sparkle varnish on my pinkie finger. I held out my hand and admired the effect of sparkle over the lavender polish I’d already used.
“I wouldn’t hold your breath,” Connie answered laughing.
A sudden thump over my head made me look up at the ceiling above us. I cocked my head to one side to listen.
“What was that?” Connie asked, muting the TV. “It sounded like it came from the bedroom I’m staying in. I don’t remember anything sitting in a way that could have fallen.”
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
The hair on my arms stood up. “Were those footsteps?” I squeaked, sitting up straight on the sofa. “Connie!” I whispered now. “Did you hear that? It sounded like footsteps!”
Connie’s eyes were open wide as she sat on the edge of the recliner. “I think it was. Do you think someone sneaked in while we were at the drugstore?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Should we go up and check or should we call someone?” I asked, still whispering.
“Maybe it wasn’t footsteps, maybe it’s just the old house cooling as the sun goes down. Let’s sit a minute and see if we hear anything else. I’ll unlock the front door so we can run out if we need to,” she whispered back, getting up slowly and going to the door.
I watched Connie unlock the latch as I got to my feet. I stood tense, ready to run, listening intently for any sounds. Nothing, everything was still. We waited a few moments more and I was starting to relax again.
A steady thumping began again. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. The thumping sounded like it was moving down the hall and coming closer to the head of the stairs when my flight response kicked in.
“Go! Go! Go!” I yelled as I ran toward Connie who swung the door wide. I grabbed her by the arm as I went past her, pulling her out of the house with me and onto the porch. We jostled against each other on the way through the screen door, nearly ripping it off its sagging hinges as we burst through. Down the concrete steps and into the yard we fled, slipping in the grass as we ran across the lawn. I finally let go of Connie’s arm, and was almost to my car when I realized that not only did I not have my keys, but I had run outside in my socks which were now filthy. I turned to look up at the house in the glow of the street lamp. Nearly concealed amidst the towering oaks and overgrown shrubs, it suddenly looked dark an
d foreboding in the gloomy night.
I huddled next to my car, as Connie shivered next to me. “Okay, what now?” I asked. I glanced back up to the house and a movement caught my eye. Stepping closer I discerned a dark shadow at the far window of the master bedroom.
“Connie, do you see a shape in the master? Is that someone in the window?” I asked. Suddenly shaking, I pointed up at the window and felt my heartbeat quicken. I started to get a sick feeling in my stomach. Connie gripped my hand, moving closer to me. The shape seemed to linger in the window as we gazed at the house. I tried to make out what it might be, something normal, mundane, but it defied reason, and time seemed to stop as Connie and I stared.
Suddenly, I blinked, and the shape was gone.
“Weird,” I heard Connie say.
“Yeah, that didn’t really look like it moved or walked away did it?” I asked. “It looked like it just—”
“Disappeared,” my cousin whispered.
Chapter Seven
As Connie and I stood there, gazing at the house, I saw movement out of the corner of my eye at an upstairs window next door. “Watch out, Mrs. Kravitz on the left,” I whispered to Connie. “The neighbors are going to think we’re nuts running out into the night in only our socks, then milling about the yard.”
“I think we’re nuts,” Connie answered in a deadpan voice. “But then again...” she left the thought open ended.
The wind blew through the new leaves in the trees, and the squirrels scurried about, gathering sticks and leaves to build their nests. The croaks of tree frogs interrupted the silence as Connie and I stood like statues in front of the house, both of us pondering what to do next. The juxtaposition of the calm, natural world and the frightening uncertainty I was contemplating jarred my senses.
“I’m cold,” I finally said, wrapping my arms around myself. I was starting to feel the dampness from the spring grass seeping through my socks. “What are we going to do now?”
“I think I might have a friend who will come over and walk through the house with us,” Connie replied slowly, pulling her cell phone out. I climbed in my car, trying to find warmth while Connie paced up and down the sidewalk, making her call. I grabbed a blanket from the back and curled up in the front seat, wrapping the wool tightly around my wet feet. Lucky for me the automatic locks no longer worked on my old car. If I wanted to lock it, I had to do it manually with the key, which of course I always forgot to do. Otherwise I’d still be standing outside in cold wet socks. Over two hundred thousand miles, but I loved this car.
Apparently the cold didn’t bother Connie, as she prolonged her conversation outside. I wondered how much information she was giving her friend.
She finished her call and climbed in my car with me.
“Who is this friend and how are we going to keep him or her from thinking we’re nuts?” I asked her.
“His name is Emmett. He’s just a guy I know. He’s close and won’t mind stopping over. He’s friends with Dean Adams. Remember Dean?”
“How could I forget? Gorgeous, funny, football player, Norse god.” I laughed then sobered. ”Do you think there’s someone in there?”
“I don’t know. The steps sure sounded distinct, not like just the wind blowing through drafty windows, or settling floorboards.”
“Maybe whoever it was went out the back door by now,” I conjectured. “He had to know we saw him. It would be logical to think we’d call the police or something.”
“I’ve never experienced this sort of thing before,” Connie said. “I really don’t know what to think.”
“What sort of thing? Someone being in your house? Me neither. It’s scary, isn’t it? To think of someone walking into your house when you’re not home. Actually, it’s kind of making me mad. What right do they have anyway?” I was working myself up into full-fledged indignation.
“Laney, why would someone hide in the house, not show themselves and just try to scare us? If it was a robber he should have pulled a gun and tied us up or something. Instead we just hear footsteps and see shadows. I’ve seen enough movies to know a haunted house when I see one.”
“Haunted house? A haunted house. Come on, Connie, you think it’s more likely our house is haunted than someone broke in to steal things? Maybe they are trying to scare us into leaving so they can go through the house at their leisure. You saw Antique Roadshow, maybe Grandfather bought something valuable at a garage sale and the person didn’t realize they had something at the time. A lot of the people say they are just given this stuff or they buy it at a garage sale,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Haven’t you also seen the horror movies where the axe murderer finally shows himself and hacks everyone up?”
“Seriously, you’re going to go with axe murderer over haunted house? Let’s just wait for Emmett.”
I didn’t want to argue with Connie but, seriously, haunted? Who believed in ghosts nowadays? Maybe some deluded people who believe everything they see on the internet or TV. Every time I saw one of those shows, I could figure out a way it might have been faked.
Eventually, I heard the sound of a car behind me and turned to see a shiny red pick-up truck pull up. “He’s here,” Connie finally said, stating the obvious.
Extricating myself from the comfort of my blanket, I stepped out of the car to meet our new guest. The little warmth I had gained by sitting in the car was stripped away by the wind which had begun to pick up. I ran my hands up and down my arms, trying to generate some heat as I walked over to meet him, feeling self-conscious walking around only in my socks. He stepped down out of his truck, the spotless chrome running boards shining in the darkness.
The first thing I noticed was the brilliant smile he flashed Connie as he came around the truck. It was like the night lit up. He was cute, this friend of Connie’s. I had to remind myself that I was in the midst of a divorce, but it was hard not to notice that he was my type. Careless brown hair fell over his forehead, and was a little long over his ears like he hadn’t gotten it cut in a while. High cheekbones and a strong jaw complimented his light blue eyes. He wore a blue t-shirt with a lightweight jean jacket, and I noticed how the color of his shirt brought out the blue in his eyes. He was only a few inches taller than me, but he exuded quiet strength and confidence in the moment he arrived. Connie’s friend, I reminded myself. Connie’s friend. Right, I knew what that meant.
Self-consciously I put my hand to my head to smooth my hair and felt the ridiculous plastic hair coloring cap. Oh my God! I realized how awful I must have looked with my hair sticking out. Even worse, I wondered if I’d burned my hair beyond repair.
“Connie, quick, we have to go wash this stuff out!” I made a beeline for the house, pushing aside the thought about any danger that could be lurking inside.
“Laney, wait,” Connie yelled as she and Emmett followed after me. I could hear their footfalls behind me on the concrete sidewalk.
“I have to get this out before all my hair breaks off,” I yelled back frantically, going through the porch and open front door and skidding into the kitchen. I quickly turned on the water and shoved my head under the faucet, pulling the cap off and rinsing my hair. Connie raced in behind me. “I need shampoo!” I yelled at her.
“I am not going anywhere in this house to find you shampoo until we check everything out.” She fired back at me. “Here,” she said grabbing the dish soap next to the sink. Use this.”
I glared at her from the sink, then took the soap and poured a small amount into my hand. Beggars couldn’t be choosers. Connie relented when she saw the massive amount of suds I was generating, and at least helped me rinse the soap out, handing me a dishtowel to wrap around my head. Toweling my hair dry I turned and looked up to find Connie’s friend staring at us with a puzzled grin on his face.
“I thought you two were nervous that someone was in the house,” he said.
“Sorry! Hi, I’m Laney, Connie’s cousin.” I reached out to shake his hand, feeling my face turn red. “I’m not really crazy
,” I began and then decided to give up. How could I look anything but? A feeling of panic passed through me as I realized how stupid I’d been. There could still be someone in the house.
“This is Emmett Linden,” Connie interrupted calmly before I said something else stupid and made myself look even more nuts. After all, he was there because we thought we had someone in the house. Then I go running into said house on account of my hair coloring. He would be right to think I was crazy.
“Hi. Nice to meet you. Before we do anything else, let’s go through the place and make sure no one else is here,” Emmett said.
“What if someone is here?” I asked peeling my now filthy, wet socks off and throwing them towards the back door. “Are you sure it’s safe to do this by ourselves?”
“Since you’re the one that ran in here without any plan, should you really be questioning safety, Miss Careful and Ridiculous?” Connie asked, following my lead in removing her own wet socks. “Besides, I don’t think the police can help us catch a ghost.”
“It’s not a ghost,” I insisted. But, there was probably no harm in checking out exactly what was going on now that there were three of us. If there was someone in the house before, I doubt they would have waited around to get caught, I reassured myself. Besides, they would have seen Emmett pulling up, so we now outnumbered the intruder three to one. None of it made any sense. The whole thing was probably nothing and we would laugh about it tomorrow.
Emmett started for the stairs. “You said you saw the figure in the upstairs window, right?”
“In the master,” I replied reluctantly. It seemed ridiculous as I said it to someone other than my cousin. The three of us trooped up the stairs like the Scooby gang, making a ton of noise as we went. I followed Emmett to the entrance of the master bedroom. He maneuvered his way past the boxes and around the bed, while Connie and I stayed by the door.
“Well, that’s odd,” I said looking across the room. “There are boxes in front of the window where we saw the shadow. There couldn’t have been anyone standing there.”
