A chill raced over Cassie’s skin. “That’s creepy.”
“What happened with the house after that?” Griff asked.
Penny picked up a pen and started to doodle on the pad in front of her. “I guess the bank took over the house and they sold it to another family. They lived there two years. A young couple. The woman committed suicide and the husband wasn’t anywhere to be found. But his stuff was left there, too. The authorities considered him a suspect for a long time—maybe he’d made it look like a suicide. After that the place had renters off and on and nothing bad happened so far as I know. No one stayed in the place more than a couple of years it seemed. Finally this old codger bought it in the eighties.” The woman rolled her gaze to the ceiling. “He lived there until five years ago and they found him dead in the front yard with a pair of shears.”
“Cutting roses?” Cassie asked on a whim.
Penny narrowed her eyes. “Yep. Exactly. He complained to a neighbor the day before that the damn roses wouldn’t behave.” Her gaze went back and forth between them. “He said he kept cutting them down and they’d grow right back. Place has been abandoned for four years now. I guess no one wants two acres and a ranch house. Those newer houses on the other side of the street are more appealing.”
Cassie’s mind whirled from what the hotel manager had told them. “Dougray McPhee said his sister disappeared up there.”
Penny look startled. “That was his sister? There was this young woman that went missing but she didn’t live here.” She put one hand to her face. “God, I forgot all about that.”
“Do you think the old man killed her?” Cassie asked.
Penny looked horrified. “She went missing after the old man died.” She rubbed her arms again. “God, that place is so awful. I don’t like even talking about it.”
Griff’s expression went totally serious. “Any of the neighbors notice anything unusual about the place?”
Mrs. Cribb’s eyes narrowed, as if she suspected something fishy going on. “Nothing that I’ve heard, but that doesn’t mean anything.”
The phone rang and Penny reached for it. After she answered a hotel guest’s question, she returned to them. “That’s the sordid story. I’d stay away from the place if I was you. It’s just…odd.”
Cassie had no argument with that.
* * *
Night fell and the man approached the house again. Street lights faded, and as he walked up the dirt road, he turned on his flashlight. Houses on the way to the Point didn’t have street lights. So when the pine trees closed around, hugging the road like tall monsters from a horror movie, even a star studded sky and the approach of a full moon couldn’t erase the edgy sensation.
A memory returned from when he was a kid and lived in this area. His stupid friends would run up to the front door of the haunted house and knock on it. When the door would open a crack, they’d run screaming. He’d stayed out on the road, shaking with a fear so freezing and sharp he couldn’t ignore it. When they’d returned to him, they’d giggled and slapped him on the back. Stupid boys hadn’t understood he knew something lived in the house. For when the door had cracked open that tiny bit, he’d seen the eyes. Red. Glowing. Like the sort of monster eyes every kid feared existed under the bed at night. He hadn’t said a damn thing to them. Maybe one day they’d step into the house and all disappear. He wouldn’t fear their taunts, their hatred and the torment he’d suffered day after day as they bullied him. He’d heard some years ago, after he’d left to join the military, that one of the meanest boys had disappeared from Bowmount when he was twenty. Just up and vanished.
He grinned. Maybe the bastard had stumbled too close to the house’s open door and it had swallowed him.
The large flashlight beam gave him plenty of light as he quickened his steps up the hill. He almost tripped, eager to make it back to the house and feel the stark, thrilling pleasure he’d discovered when he’d stepped inside that one time. While the military had taken him away from Bowmount and this house, his return had been bittersweet. He’d left his car downtown, not wanting to park in the ranch house driveway and alert anyone he was there. The walk cleared his head, and after a long day working he relished the exercise. He hated his job, and the sooner he could leave it, the better. His boss was nice enough, and he didn’t want to kill her as he had some others along the way. She didn’t know how lucky she was. She talked too much, but in his experience most women did, so he tolerated her personality. He needed the money.
He knew this road by heart even in the semi-darkness barely illuminated by his flashlight. When he reached the driveway of the ranch house, he noticed a difference. He sucked in a breath and turned toward the house. A breeze ruffled the trees and he drank in the healthy scent of pine and earth. One more step, onto the driveway, and the wind increased. It blew against him, carrying a few pine needles over his feet. Between prickling excitement and terrible fear, he looked directly at the house.
It was alive. Alive and calling to him once more. He walked down the driveway and felt the burning start in his legs. Strange things happened to him physically when he came here. One day a headache. Another day his vision had faded in and out. He hurried up the driveway, his desire to enter the house so strong, the ecstasy of it seared him. The house wanted him again. It wouldn’t harm him. Here he belonged, and he would make anyone who dared to invade his sanctuary suffer. Just as he’d been made to suffer all his life. At the front door he reached for the doorknob, but the door opened on its own. Like a mouth it opened wide, a black pit that devoured and held. With a feeling close to ecstasy, he entered his home. His home.
Blackout: Chapter Five
“This is a cute place,” Cassie said as she settled into the small chair at the two person table. “And I’m starving.”
Griff smiled as he settled across from her and took the menu the hostess handed him. Cassie thought he looked good enough to eat. Wearing a dark green sweater, jeans, and athletic shoes, he wasn’t dressed for fancy cuisine. Neither was she. She’d worn a blue sweater and jeans as well. Not like she’d come to Bowmount expecting cuisine. It didn’t matter—the restaurant was casual. Cassie’s physical reactions to this man weren’t so casual. Since the second kiss they’d shared, her body seemed hyper-aware of him, ready and willing to discover what would happen if they brought their bodies together.
No. That’s going too far.
They ordered a half bottle of Chianti and the special for each of them—a penne pasta with vodka sauce.
He pinpointed her with a serious expression. “What did you think of what Penny told us?”
“I’m not sure. It sounds like a whole pile of urban legends piled on one place.”
“Yeah, I think you’re right. The only way we could verify some of it would be official records.”
“Why would we do that?”
“I don’t want to. It’s just an observation.”
He reached for his napkin and placed it on his lap. At least he wasn’t tearing it to pieces like the paper napkin.
When the wine came and the waiter left, he lifted his glass. “First, a toast.” Their wine glasses clinked together. “To the rest of our vacation being peaceful.”
“A peaceful vacation.” She didn’t know why he thought it wouldn’t be, but didn’t question him on it. “How long are you in town?”
“Until Sunday.”
“I’m here until Saturday.”
“Let’s make the most of it then.” He looked at her over the rim of his glass as he took another sip. “What plans did you have for the rest of the week?”
“Laziness. Sketching.” A wild idea came to her, and without another thought she blurted it. “I want to draw the ranch house.”
“What?” his tone was sharp, as if the idea was preposterous.
“When I’m inspired to sketch something I go for it.”
She couldn’t miss the trepidation on his face.
“Another thing I like about you.” His gaze caught her
s and held, and the intensity in that look sent a million messages. “You’re very brave.”
She made a sound of disagreement. “Mostly I just push forward and do what has to be done. It’s that or admit failure.”
“That’s one definition of bravery.”
“There’s more than one?”
“Oh, yeah.” He looked down at the table, his expression far away. “On the battlefield I saw bravery from the people you’d least expect. And men who everyone thought would have balls of steel sometimes lost it.”
“What about the women you served with?” she asked.
He made a short laugh, humorless. “Female marines are some of the toughest people I know. Sometimes they top the men for bravery when the shit hits the fan.”
She looked down at her wineglass and into the ruby liquid as if an answer might jump out at her if she used it like a crystal ball.
“I guess sketching the house isn’t staying away from it, is it?” she asked.
“You don’t think it’s really haunted, I hope.”
She reached for the basket of rolls the waiter had placed on their table not long ago. “After all Penny told us, I’m beginning to wonder. After the way the roses just…I don’t know.”
“Make me a promise.”
Unsure, she hesitated before saying, “What?”
“Don’t go to the house without me.”
She thought about telling him she’d do whatever she damned well pleased, but instinct told her going alone to the house might not be the smartest thing. “I hadn’t planned to.”
Once more a clearly pleased expression covered his face, and one part of her rebelled. A man telling her what to do just didn’t sit well with her. She’d learned hard core independence after her life with her ex husband, and giving in to any man’s request always made her think twice. She shoved aside the residual resentment. All she was doing in this case was being smart, not giving in to an unreasonable request.
Before their entrees arrived and while they ate, they settled into gentler conversation. Topics ranged from the weather predictions for snow tonight to politics. Both were moderates and independents, so they found a big middle ground there. He liked to read westerns and sci-fi novels, while she enjoyed sci-fi, romance, and thrillers. Both of them shied from literary novels. As for movies, he liked the shoot-’em-ups, and so did she.
“You’re kidding me?” he asked as he poured more wine for her and for himself. “You like action movies?”
She took a sizable gulp of wine. “Always have.”
“Damn. You’re the first woman I’ve run into who does. But I’ll bet you still like chick flicks.”
“Yeah. Sue me.”
He laughed, and the deep, masculine sound brushed along her senses and started a spark. God, the man turned her own like nobody’s business. A radical thought came to mind. If and when he kissed her again…she’d take this to the next level. Making love with him would scratch a long, ten-year itch. But she couldn’t give into doubt or cravings like this if she didn’t trust a man down deep where it mattered.
They shared a piece of apple pie, and she let him eat most of it. One time she licked her lips and caught him staring at her mouth. Heat flared in her body, tingling in her nipples and the tug and pull low in her loins. The man had her tied up in knots.
Chill. You can withstand it.
Yeah, that’s what she told herself, but was it true?
After the waiter brought their check, he pulled out his wallet and extracted cash.
“No, I didn’t mean for you to pay it all,” she said and reached for her purse.
“Not to worry. This one is on me. You can get the next one.”
She couldn’t deny the idea of their being another time appealed to her. “Deal.”
They’d taken his old black Dodge Charger to the restaurant and when they piled into it, he said, “Let’s drive by the ranch house.”
Surprised, she only thought of one word. “What?”
“I’m curious about something.”
“I thought we planned to stay away from there.”
“Just a drive by. I want to see if someone has moved into the house and Penny just didn’t know. It’s a hunch I have.”
She shrugged and went along with it. “All right. But we aren’t stopping. Just a drive by.”
“Deal.”
As he left the restaurant parking lot and returned to the outskirts of the town, she wondered why they both obsessed over the abandoned house so much. It didn’t make sense. Yet they’d both seen something…those damn roses and their ability to grow and die and grow again. At least she thought they’d seen an extraordinary thing. Perhaps they imagined it all.
Traffic was light, and a small town like this rolled up the streets early in the fall. When they reached the dirt turn off towards the Point, she tensed.
“I don’t know if this is a good idea.” She almost asked him to turn around.
“Why?”
“Not exactly a great way to end a date, is it?”
“Was that a date?”
“God, you’re such a man.” She said it with a deadpan voice, only half kidding.
He’s low chuckle vibrated through her. “You know how to flatter a guy’s ego.”
Snowflakes suddenly flew into the headlight streams, dusting the road in front of them until the ditch and the road all looked the same.
“Damn.” His voice as a little gruff. “Where the hell did this come from?”
“Weatherman did say we might a light dusting.”
“This is a hell of a lot more than a dusting.”
Soon the white stuff came down at an angle that made it hard to see where they were going. Not much longer and they pulled up in front of the ranch house. They looked through the darkness at the dark hulk of the building.
“Son of a bitch,” he said.
Light streamed from the windows, and from what she could see, the dark stalks of roses stood unblemished.
“Oh, my God. Am I really seeing that?” she asked. “The roses are—”
“Yeah, you’re seeing it.”
The car died.
“What are you doing?” A tiny panic welled inside her. “You said a drive-by only.”
“It stopped on its own.” He tried the ignition but the car didn’t turn over, the click, click sound showing the damn thing had no intention of starting soon. “Wait here.”
She almost reached for his arm and told him not to go out in the biting weather. He was out before she could say a peep. He slammed the door. Soon he was peeking under the hood. If he knew how to correct the problem they’d be out of here in no time. While he tinkered, she concentrated on keeping her suddenly jumpy nerves in line. The windows of the house stayed lit, and those rose bushes appeared intact. She blinked. Blinked again. It just couldn’t be. One second later a dark figure passed by one of the windows. Stunned, she pressed her hand against the cold window as snow raced by the window. Okay, so someone had moved in there, but maybe it was a squatter.
Griff jerked open the car door, and she started. He sank into the seat and tried the ignition again. It sputtered, almost caught, died again.
He slapped one hand against the steering wheel. “Damn.”
“You can’t fix it?”
“What I’ve tried isn’t working. I can’t tell what’s wrong with it.”
She reached into her purse for her cell phone. “I have access to an auto club.”
“Great.” He reached into the glove compartment and they found the number provided to call a tow. A few moments later it was evident they wouldn’t be calling anyone. Her cell phone was dead and so was his.
“This can’t be.” Frustration filled his voice. “Both our cell phones can’t be dead at the same time.”
“Well, they are.”
She could blame him for the predicament. If he hadn’t insisted they come up to creepy central they’d be in a warm hotel right now.
“We’ll have to go to the hous
e and see if we can use their phone. The nearest house is about a half mile away. We can’t walk in this snow.”
Without thinking, she touched his forearm…gripped it, actually. “No.”
“Why not?”
“I did see someone pass by the window while you were outside. But…”
“It’ll be all right. Obviously someone’s renting the place or bought it. I’ll check it out.”
“No. I don’t think it’s safe.”
“It isn’t safe sitting out here all night.”
With one more look, he held her gaze. Then he leaned forward and cupped the back of her neck. He kissed her lightly, the quick brushing of his lips against hers not even giving her a chance to respond. “It’ll be okay. I’ll be back before you know it.”
He reached across and opened the glove compartment. Inside lay a big handgun.
She said the first thing she thought of, even though the information was obvious as hell. “You’ve got a gun.”
In the dark she couldn’t see his expression, but she heard amusement in his voice. “Yeah, I left it back in the room earlier today in the safe. After that little encounter with McPhee”—he hefted the gun in his right hand— “insurance.”
The fact he owned a weapon didn’t surprise or disturb her, and she didn’t ask what he planned to do with it. He grabbed a flashlight out of the back seat.
As she watched Griff walking down the driveway, the snow danced across the windshield. Apprehension prickled her skin. Her breathing came faster. For a few seconds helplessness strangled her. Claustrophobia cut off her air as snow surrounded the car and carpeted the earth. She’d only felt claustrophobic in her life one other time, in that hotel room in Thailand so long ago. The lights in the house blinked out, and she stiffened. She’d allowed the darkness to keep her in place in Thailand that night, the ocean a big bad monster ready to devour. No one had needed her right then, but that wasn’t the case now.
Holding Out For A Hero: SEALs, Soldiers, Spies, Cops, FBI Agents and Rangers Page 123
