“Sheets?”
“Sister. Has Hummer. Not ready. To drive.”
He smiled again, but it faded when he pulled out tweezers. “There’s a paint chip—”
I closed my eyes, unable to watch, and squeezed his arm again. “Don’t tell me. Just do it. Whatever. I don’t need to know.”
“There’s a Target not far from here. You could probably pick up something pretty cheap there. You know, since the sheets didn’t seem to work out.”
I didn’t open my eyes, but I was quite certain from the lilt of his voice that he was smiling. “I’ll have to try that.” Although, if I’d injured myself with sheets and thumbtacks, what would I do with screws and actual tools?
Note to self: Pick up first-aid kit at Target while buying shades.
“Probably a good idea to cover up those windows. You don’t want to be too exposed.”
Exposed. Exactly. That’s how I’d felt. At least someone understood.
Of course, if I put up shades, I probably wouldn’t have time to go to the rave. Not that I was going to go anyway. Some kind of curiosity made me want to go and see what it was like, to see what I was missing out on.
And it would give me some time away from the ghost living at Lana’s.
Cooper dug at my arm.
“Ouch!”
He displayed the tiny sliver of paint between the tweezers. “Got it.”
“Praise God,” I whispered. My face immediately flushed. “And I’m not saying that in vain. I mean it with every ounce of my being.”
Not that this man probably cared. Most people didn’t anymore, so I didn’t know why I explained myself. I wasn’t even sure if I cared. But I had cared for so long. The fact was that I even confused myself on matters of spirituality right now, so explaining my feelings to anyone else would be a lesson in foolishness.
“I just need to bandage this up and you’ll be set.”
In gentle, swift motions, he wrapped white gauze around the wound. I noticed for the first time that he smelt like spearmint and baby shampoo, a surprisingly nice combination. “You’ll need to check this every day for infection, just to be safe. You have had your tetanus shot, right?”
“Every seven years.”
“Good girl.”
“That’s me,” I mumbled.
“All done.”
Our eyes met for a moment, and I realized there was something about Cooper I liked. His eyes were kind and steadfast. He was the kind of neighbor anyone would want to have.
I cleared my throat and turned my attention to little Austin, who was playing with a fire truck on the rug. “Cute boy.”
“I think so.”
I scanned the pictures on his bookcase and spotted a snapshot of Cooper, a baby, and a blonde. She was just the type of woman I expected to see with a man like Cooper—tanned, thin, and gorgeous. “Your wife is beautiful.”
It seemed Cooper tried to smile, but failed. “Thank you.”
I wondered about his reaction. Maybe they were separated, and I’d put my foot in my mouth. “I should go and see if I can maneuver the tank my sister insists on driving.”
He leaned against the bookcase, his arms crossed over his chest in a relaxed manner. “We’ll drive you to Target if you want.”
“Really? You don’t have to do that. It’s totally imposing on your day.”
“You’re not imposing. Besides, there are a few things I need to pick up.”
“That’s...really kind of you.” I shifted, not wanting to ask the next question but feeling the need to anyway. “Would that be weird for your wife, though?”
Cooper looked away for a moment. “No, she’s...”
Austin looked up at me with wide eyes. “She’s with Jesus in heaven.”
My heart dropped, while at the same time being clutched with grief. “I’m so sorry.”
“You didn’t know. It’s okay.” Cooper straightened and shoved his hands down into his pockets. “So about Target...?”
My cheeks flushed at my mistake, but Cooper didn’t seem to have any hard feelings against me. Besides, I really needed to go to Target. “Yeah, that would be great. I’ll grab my purse and be right out.”
Chapter 8
“How have your first few days here been?” Cooper leaned back, his hands draped through the steering wheel as we headed down the road in his extended-cab pickup truck. Austin sat in the backseat and had traded his fire engine for an airplane.
Cooper seemed like the type who never worried, and being around him made me feel the same way. Even as he wove in and out of the crazy drivers buzzing around us, I felt safe, like he was in control and could handle it.
Just like he’d handled his wife’s death and seemed amazingly well adjusted now. I wondered what had happened? Car accident? Sickness?
He’d asked me a question, I remembered. My first few days here? They’d been terrifying, stressful, and confusing.
“Relaxing. Fun. Slightly boring. But boring is good.” There I went again, not able to talk in complete sentences. I drew in a deep breath. The truck still had a newish smell to it and, as I glanced across the dash, I noted how clean it was. He’d obviously taken the time to keep the truck looking clean. Type A me could appreciate that.
He glanced at me, those ever-perceptive eyes at work again. “Boring usually means things are under control.”
The pressing need for answers had me abandoning my desire to appear sane and even respectable. “Did you know the people who lived in the house before Lana?”
Cooper kept his eyes on the road. “As a matter of fact, yes, I did.”
“What were they like?” I tried to sound casual and laid-back—two things I wasn’t exactly known for being. As extra initiative, I relaxed my shoulders but ended up feeling like I had bad posture. I straightened again. If there was one thing I could say about my upbringing, it was that my parents had taught me about Jesus, church, and good posture.
“The Millers?” He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel a couple of beats then stopped.
I watched his controlled movements, the easy stretch of his muscles as he maneuvered the steering wheel while navigating through thick traffic. I soaked in his masculine profile and the spectacular balance of his features. He dressed casually in a black T-shirt and jeans. His hair had a slight touch of curl, but was cropped tightly and had a natural, messy look to it. Ben Cooper was not just good-looking. He was really good-looking, the type of man who seemed like every girl’s type. He’d make some woman very happy one day.
Before he caught me staring, I looked away and focused on the vehicles zipping across the bland highway all around us. “Yes, the Millers. What were the Millers like?”
He shrugged. “They were a young couple. They actually found the house through an Army buddy of mine, Jimmy. He knew them from high school. They moved down here and were looking for a place to live. I told them the house next door was for sale.”
I nodded, licking my lips and willing my hands to remain still and not give away my anxiousness. “Did you know them very well?”
“We had dinner with them a few times. I wouldn’t say I knew them, but we were acquaintances. We just didn’t connect with them, I guess. We didn’t have much in common.”
“What were they like?”
Cooper stared straight ahead as we bounced down the road. The sun hit his wedding ring, and I realized with clarity that Ben Cooper still loved his wife.
“They were an interesting couple. Danielle, she was into crystals and psychic readings and tarot cards, and Jeremy walked around with a permanent scowl. Sunni always said they freaked her out.”
Sunni. She must have been Cooper’s wife. My heart panged with sadness again. I thought divorce was hard, but having your spouse die...I couldn’t even imagine.
“Why’d they move?” Either Cooper was trying to be nice and not tell me what had happened at the house or nothing had happened. I was rooting for “Nothing had happened” so that I could put all of this behin
d me.
Cooper drug in a deep breath and glanced in the backseat at his son. “They didn’t. She...died.”
The hairs on my arms bristled. “Died?”
“Died as in her husband’s the number-one suspect, but the police don’t have enough evidence to charge him.” His voice sounded low, like he was telling me a secret. I knew he just didn’t want his son to get freaked out, and I couldn’t blame him.
“So he...?” I couldn’t bring myself to say killed her. I feared the answer. I feared what had taken place in the house where I now slept. I feared believing in something I knew wasn’t true. “Wow.”
Cooper nodded. “Yeah.”
All the moisture left my throat. So what Lana had said was true. Someone had died in that house. I needed more information. I needed to put my questions to rest. But exactly how would I do that?
“Where are all of these questions coming from?”
I shrugged and shook my head. “Would you believe me if I said I was just curious?”
“No, not really.”
“I didn’t think so.” I heaved in a deep breath while formulating my answer. “Someone’s just trying to mess with my head.” I fluttered my hand in the air, trying to look like it was no big deal. “You know, the butcher knife, the note, the ectoplasm, the gate opening.” I could go on, but what I’d told him was sufficient.
“What’s that have to do with the Millers?”
Uh... “Nothing.”
He cast another glance my way. “Nothing?”
I shrugged, one shoulder at a time while wobbling my head back and forth. “I mean, there’s been speculation.”
“You believe in ghosts?”
“No! Of course not.” I sucked on the side of my cheek for a minute. “I mean, not normally.” I sounded pathetic, and I knew it.
“Tara...”
I buried my face in my hands for a moment, feeling vulnerable and...slightly loony. “Don’t judge me.”
“I’m not judging. I agree that some crazy things have been happening at your place. But the cause is most likely of the human variety.”
“I agree. It’s like I said, someone’s just playing with my head.”
“Your house isn’t haunted.”
“Of course not,” I agreed. “Ghosts aren’t real.”
No, they weren’t real. What kind of person in their right mind thought they were?
~*~
Maybe ghosts were real. With my belief system turned upside down, maybe I should consider all possibilities. If they were real, these blinds would do me no good.
Cooper insisted on helping me put them up. Thank goodness. I know I should be all female-independent, G.I. Jane and all. But I really didn’t feel like it, not at the moment, at least.
Cooper, on the other hand, seemed to know exactly what he was doing as he stood on the step stool and expertly attached little thinga-ma-doodles to the window frame and inserted the blinds between them. He’d already done three.
I watched him from the couch a moment before turning to Austin who sat next to me. “Are you in school yet?”
“I’m going to kindergarten.” The blond-haired boy grinned up at me, his blue eyes sparkly and worthy of many melted hearts.
“In the fall,” Cooper added.
I smiled at the boy. “You’re old enough to go to school?”
He flashed a toothy grin. “I’m a big boy.” He held up four fingers then popped his thumb out. “I’m five.”
“Five years old? That’s quite the milestone.”
Austin let his Army helicopter hover over the coffee table. “What’s my stone?”
“Milestone,” I pronounced the word carefully. “A milestone is an important point in life.”
The helicopter swooped toward the seat. “Do I get to put my stone in my room?”
“Not quite.” I shared a smile with Cooper.
The bookshelf against the wall at the far end of the room had been bugging me since I got back to Lana’s place. At times, I could rival the OCD TV detective Adrian Monk with my attention to details. I excused myself and walked toward the shelf, unable to ignore it any longer.
I stared at the pictures. They’d been rearranged.
I squinted, questioning myself for a moment. No, they were definitely not like I left them. Who would have rearranged the pictures, though? What was going to happen next? Would my face have a big, fat X through it?
I swallowed. Should I tell Cooper? No, I decided. I’d just sound crazy. Unease had me rattled, though.
“Last one’s up.” Cooper stepped back. “That should do it.”
I put on my game face and looked up at the shades. Really, they were more like eye patches. Those windows had made me feel like someone’s eyes were watching my every move. Finally, maybe I could have some peace. “I deeply appreciate your help today. And yesterday, for that matter. How can I repay you?”
His intense gaze, broken up with a rascally sparkle, caught mine. “Come have dinner with us tonight.”
I blinked, unsure that I’d heard him correctly. “I can say thank you by eating with you?”
He grinned. “That’s right. I know you’re new in town, and I just happen to have enough chicken marinating that I can be a good neighbor. What do you say?”
I say that I’m a mess and that if you heard about what I’d allegedly done, you’d want me to stay far away. But the man had been kind since I’d been in town, and I didn’t want to insult him as he tried to be a good neighbor. Besides, if he didn’t know what people had said, then my presence at his house shouldn’t offend him, right? Dinner couldn’t hurt.
“I say okay. That sounds nice.”
Cooper herded Austin out the front door, and I promised to be there in an hour. As soon as they left, I began second-guessing myself. Why was I feeling guilty for something I hadn’t done? When would the guilt ever stop hounding me? I wasn’t sure which haunting was worse—my past or this house.
I glanced up at my windows again. The shades made me feel better. I only wished it was that easy to strap blinds over my life so no one would see the mess inside. I knew that as I got to know people, I wouldn’t be able to keep them from seeing the disaster my life had become. But I wanted to keep those disappointments at bay for as long as I could.
I sank into the couch and crossed my arms over my chest. Being in the house alone made me feel cold. I still couldn’t shake the eerie feeling that something wasn’t right here. Someone had died on this property. Been murdered even? But that didn’t mean a ghost was haunting the place. No, it could very easily be a human with a sick sense of humor.
But what kind of person would do something like that? Candy? Maybe. The woman wanted attention, and this could be a way in for her.
Lana’s stalker? Another possibility.
Who else would have something to gain by doing this?
That’s when a horrible thought smacked me in the face.
Who else would have something to gain? How about someone trying to sell you a security system?
Chapter 9
I was halfway through the cookout at Cooper’s house and I still couldn’t stop thinking about Cooper’s possible role in all of the craziness going on at my temporary home. He’d had a key to Lana’s. He could easily come and go or hide outside the window without looking too suspicious. He could be running some kind of “security experiment” on me.
But then I’d look at him and see the way he interacted with Austin, his tenderness with the boy, and question myself. Certainly he would never do anything like that.
“You look lost in thought.”
I snapped my gaze back to Cooper, who sat across the table from me. Empty plates that had once held chicken, baked potatoes, and salad scattered between us, as well as some cups of soda. My contribution to the meal—a package of Golden Oreos that I’d brought with me from Florida—sat partly devoured, closer to me than Cooper. Austin played on a swing set in the yard as the sun sank low in the sky.
What cou
ld I tell him? That I was wondering if he was vile enough to scare me all so he could make money or test some security system out on me? I didn’t think so. So I shrugged. “Sorry.”
His gaze led me to think that he already knew me better than to believe my answers, like he could see through my façade more quickly than nearly anyone else in my life had been able to. That thought scared me, made me want to run back home and close those blinds.
It didn’t matter, I reminded myself. He still had a wedding ring on. He was still in love with his dead wife. I glanced back at him, curiosity clawing at my thoughts. I couldn’t go there. I couldn’t be that nosy. Instead, I went with a safer subject. “So you were an Army Ranger?”
“Yeah, I thought joining the military would give me a chance to see the world.”
“Did it?”
“I was over in the Middle East for Operation Enduring Freedom. After I got out, I decided to ride my Harley across the U.S.”
A Harley? He and Candy should get along great, then. “I didn’t see you as the motorcycle type.”
“I’m not anymore. I got rid of it when I got married.”
“Too dangerous?”
He pulled up the sleeve of his T-shirt and showed me a two-inch scar on his shoulder. “This is from my third accident.”
“Ouch.” I tried to keep my gaze on his scar and not his defined bicep. “Why’d you do it? Ride across the country?”
The sparkle left his eyes. “I think I was searching for something. I had no plan on where to go or what I was going to do on my journey, which I think reflected the state of my spirit. I thought the next town, another job, a different woman would make me happy. I was restless. The things I’d seen in the Middle East still haunt me.”
“What made you stop and settle down?”
“Sunni, my wife. I came to St. Paul for a job interview, wondering if I should put an end to my journey. I met Sunni in a grocery store. We were both buying avocados and started talking about how to tell if you were buying a ripe one.”
I smiled, despite the stab of sadness I felt, and made a mental note to never eat avocados around him. “Did you ask her out right then and there?”
The Good Girl Page 6
