by C. J. Urban
The drive to his mother’s house only took a few minutes. He carefully backed his truck into the driveway and hopped out. Her house was painted an inviting light blue and boasted beds of multicolored flowers all around. Skye remembered helping her plant them just the year before, and he was glad they were thriving. It made his mom happy.
He walked to the front door and, upon opening it, took in the smell of fresh baked rolls. His mouth watered.
“Skye, you’re here!” Gloria exclaimed happily as she swept over to kiss him on the cheek.
“How’re you doing, Mom?”
“I’m just fine, as always,” she told her son. “Better, now that you’ve come to have dinner with me.”
Skye laughed and gave his mom a hug.
“What about you?” Gloria asked. “How’s life treating you?”
“I’m doing okay. Just a little burnt out at work, but it is what it is.”
Skye followed his mother into the kitchen and set the table while she finished making dinner.
“I understand you met the new girl in town,” Gloria mentioned. “What’s her name again?” Gloria knew Julie’s name very well, but she wanted to know if Skye had taken a liking to her.
“Her name’s Julie.”
“Ah, the one who moved into Oliver McGuire’s empty house on Dale Street.”
Skye sat at his place at the table while his mother served him a large plate. He could have served himself, but he knew his mother liked to do it. “Yeah,” he said, “She told me she just moved in with her little brother. He’s a pistol. But why did they move in to that house? Don’t they know what happened there?”
Gloria seated herself next to her son with a plate for herself. “I’m not sure. Oliver is her uncle, you know. I don’t think he mentioned anything about it to her. I showed them around the house when they got here, but I didn’t think it was my place to talk about it.”
Skye dropped his fork, clanking it onto his plate. “Mom. Why didn’t you say something? She might not want to live in a house with that kind of history.”
“Honey, we were having polite conversation. You don’t talk about things like that under those circumstances.”
“What? Tell me, what would be the right circumstance?” Skye rarely got this revved up, Gloria knew. He must really like her. He continued, “You should have said something.”
“I didn’t want to scare her. She had her little brother with her. And she already seemed overwhelmed.”
“Well,” Sky replied, “It looks like I found my opportunity to get to know her better. I’m going to tell her. It’s the right thing to do.”
“There’s that reckless streak again,” Gloria commented. “Someday it’s going to get you in real trouble.”
Skye didn’t respond. The rest of dinner was quiet, the only sounds were the scraping of forks and knives against plates. Gloria was uncomfortable with Skye’s decision. She stole glances at him, trying to find a way to reason with him, but remained silent.
The moment he was finished eating, Skye rose quickly from his chair and put his dishes in the sink. “I’ll see you later, Mom. Thanks for dinner.”
“You’re leaving now to tell her?”
“Yep.”
“Then the consequences will fall on you, son.”
Skye didn’t reply, but left the house quickly, closing the front door roughly behind him. He stalked purposefully to his truck and got in. She should have said something, he thought to himself. People deserve to know these things when they move into a house.
Dale Street, where Julie and Sam lived, was only a few blocks from his mother’s house. Skye climbed out of his truck and strode quickly to the front door, but paused a moment to think. Should I be the one to tell her? He wondered. But if I don’t, though, who will?
Chapter 6
The town of Dupont was so small that everyone just assumed that you knew what they knew. He decided it was worth it to tell Julie before someone else with less tact said something.
He rapped hard on the door several times and stood back. After a few seconds it opened, and Skye caught his breath as Julie stood in front of him, wearing pink polka-dot pajama shorts and a white tank top.
“Uh, hi,” Julie said uncertainly. “What brings you by? Did you need those skeleton keys?”
“Oh, no, nothing like that,” Skye managed, keeping his focus on her face. “This is a little more personal. Do you mind if I come in?”
“No, not at all. I just made a pot of coffee. Would you like some?”
“Sounds great,” he replied. “Thank you.”
Julie opened the door wider and Skye stepped inside. “Have a seat,” she said simply, and he watched her leave the room to get the coffee. He settled himself on the comfy green couch in the living room and glanced up at a large bookcase, perusing the titles. To his right stood a piano against the wall with several chipped keys.
Julie returned with two large cups of coffee and a bottle of French Vanilla creamer tucked under her arm. She sat the cups and creamer on the coffee table and nestled into a blue corduroy recliner across from Skye.
“Ah, my favorite,” Sky commented, smiling at her as he picked up the creamer. “You have excellent taste.”
“I’ve had nearly a lifetime to perfect my coffee craft,” Julie said.
Skye laughed, hoping to make a good impression before dropping the potential bomb. “So, where’s your brother?”
“He’s upstairs playing. He’s pretty bored here. He hasn’t met any other kids yet.”
“Well, hopefully when school starts, he’ll make some friends. How is it that you came to be taking care of your little brother?”
Julie dropped her gaze to her cup, silent a moment. Then she said quietly, “Our parents died in a car crash a few months ago.”
“Oh, my God. That’s horrible.”
“Yeah, it is,” Julie said, still looking down. “He’s such a strong little guy, though.”
Skye lapsed into silence, his heart feeling even heavier now.
Julie raised her face to look at him. “It’s alright, Skye. We’re working through it.” She managed a wane smile.
Skye smiled back and took a long sip of coffee. “This coffee is fantastic.”
“Why, thank you,” Julie said, grateful for the change of subject. She wracked her brain for something else to say. “So, tell me about yourself, Skye.” Inwardly, she berated herself for being such a goof. ‘Tell me about yourself?’ What am I, forty?
But Skye didn’t mind. “Well, let’s see. I’ve lived here my whole life, and I’ve worked at the hardware store since I was sixteen. After nine years, I’m getting tired of it.”
“Tired of living here or working at the hardware store?”
“The store,” Skye laughed. “You seem like a city girl. I don’t know what you think of our little town, but I like it. And I have family here. Where’d you move from, anyway?”
“Huntington Beach” Julie answered, and for clarity added, “That’s south of LA.”
“I know that much,” Skye chuckled. “But it must be a real change for you.”
“It is,” she replied honestly enough.
“How do you like it here so far?”
“Well, like I said, it’s very different. Everyone seems to know each other here. I feel like I’m sticking out like a sore thumb. But so far, everyone I’ve met has been pretty nice to me.” She looked into Skye’s clear eyes, feeling a little flutter in her stomach. “So, if you’re tired of the hardware store, what are you going to do?”
Julie thought it was awfully sweet to see Skye flush a little. “In my spare time I’m an inventor. Don’t laugh. It helps spice up my mundane life.”
“I’m not laughing,” she said, trying to hide a giggle. He was cute. “So, are you like Dupont’s Eli Whitney, then?”
“It’s a little more sophisticated than that,” he replied, “but on the whole I think you’re spot on.” Spot on, Skye thought to himself, who says that?
; Julie grinned, then threw him a questioning look. “I’m guessing you didn’t come here so we could casually discuss our lives.”
Skye took a deep breath, about to respond. But without warning, Sam appeared at the foot of the stairs decked out in a Batman costume and holding a Nerf gun.
“What’s he doing here?” Sam asked innocently.
“He just came for a visit. Be polite and say hi.”
“Hi,” Sam said.
“Hello,” Skye replied. “You like your tape measure?”
“Yep,” Sam smiled now. “As a matter of fact, I was just going to measure the bathtub.” And he turned and ran back up the stairs.
Skye chuckled. “He seems like a good kid.”
“He can be a little twerp sometimes, but I love him to death,” Julie said. “So, what did you want to tell me?”
Skye’s face lost all signs of mirth now. “Right. Now, before I say anything, how much do you know about this house?”
Julie was somewhat taken aback. She wasn’t expecting to talk about the house, but answered, “I know that my uncle owns it. He lived here with his daughter, my cousin Tara, until about twenty years ago. She died mysteriously. I remember my family talking about murder, but I was really young. My uncle never talked about it.”
“Never?”
“Not to my knowledge. I think it was, and still is, just too painful for him. And now that my parents are gone, I understand how he feels.”
Skye started to think he might really be the wrong person to tell her. He stared out the window, silently, trying to figure out whether to or not.
The look on his face and his sudden silence gave Julie a cold feeling. His demeanor had changed instantly from one of congeniality to dead seriousness, and it made her a little nervous.
“Are you okay?” Julie asked. “What is it that you want to tell me?”
“So, Tara was your cousin?”
“Yeah, she was. I wish I knew really what happened.”
“Well,” Skye started slowly, “twenty years ago, she was found hanging from the ceiling, strangled to death in her bedroom.”
Chapter 7
Julie’s jaw dropped, horrified. She just stared at Skye, who now doubted the logic that convinced him to tell her.
The thought that her cousin had died in this very house, let alone was murdered, made her dizzy. She clutched at the recliner’s arm, feeling nauseous. She wasn’t one to believe in ghosts, but she had chosen the bedroom right next to Tara’s. She felt chill bumps rise all over just thinking about sleeping in there.
“I shouldn’t have told you,” Skye said, apologetic. “I just thought that you should know. And be told by someone who…cares.”
“No, no. Thank you.” Julie tried her best to regain her composure. “Did they catch the person who killed her?”
“Yeah, they did. It was some crazy transient named Jacob Leigh. He’s been locked away ever since.” Skye sighed. “That’s a whole story in itself.”
Julie took a sip of coffee to warm herself. “Tell me more, Skye. My uncle never told the family about this.”
“Well, a lot of people thought that Jacob was actually innocent, and that they pinned the murder on him because he was an easy target. He didn’t have money for a good attorney, and he had no one to corroborate his alibi that he wasn’t here,” Skye gestured to the house in general, “when she was murdered. See, he’s schizophrenic, so it was fairly simple to point the finger at him and make it stick. He was really just a homeless man who wandered around town asking for money and food.”
“Wow.” Julie couldn’t find any other words.
“Yeah. He was never violent toward anyone. I heard he was actually really polite.”
Julie took a minute to digest this. “So,” she said slowly, “the killer may still be out there somewhere?”
Skye hesitated a moment. “Yeah, I guess that’s possible. But after this long, you’d be hard pressed to find whoever did it.”
Julie didn’t reply, but stared intensely into her coffee cup.
Skye shifted uncomfortably in his seat on the couch. “I’m sorry, Julie. I shouldn’t have sprung this on you so suddenly.”
“No, it’s okay. I mean, I don’t like it. I don’t like the thought of someone being murdered in the house I’m now living in. But I’d rather know than not know.”
“I do like talking with you,” Skye admitted. “And I wanted an excuse to come over here. But maybe that wasn’t the best excuse.”
Julie shook herself. She wanted to change the mood. “Well, it’s nice to learn that I’m in the presence of the next famous inventor.”
Skye smiled, and then stood up. “Thanks. And thanks for the coffee. I should probably get going, though.”
“You’re welcome. I’m glad you came by. Minus the murder in my house part.”
She stood too, and the two walked toward the entryway, standing still a moment. Skye opened his mouth as if to ask a question, but then stopped and smiled at Julie, taking a deep breath.
The words finally tumbled out of his mouth. “Would you like to go out with me sometime?”
Julie fumbled for her own words as Skye looked down at her, deep into her eyes. She felt her face flush. “That would be nice. I was kind of hoping you would ask me. I’d love to.”
“Great. How does Friday night, eight o’clock sound?”
“Sounds good. The only thing is, I’m going to need a sitter for Sam, and I don’t know anyone I can trust.”
“My mom can probably watch him, if that works for you.”
“Oh, good.” Julie felt Gloria to be a nice enough woman. “I bet Sam would like it too.”
Skye hesitated. Her face, her eyes, those lips. He settled for taking her hand. “Perfect. I’ll see you Friday, then.”
Julie watched him walk out to his truck before closing the door. She crossed the living room to her recliner. She could tell he’d wanted to kiss her, but she was glad he hadn’t…yet. She wanted to enjoy the blissful feeling of being desired. She hadn’t been on a date since before her parents had died, and a part of her worried that she might be a little rusty in the romance department. “Like riding a bicycle,” she mused to herself. “Just take it slow, Julie.”
The silence in the house was suddenly interrupted by a strange thump from upstairs. Julie sat forward so quickly she nearly fell out of the recliner.
Willing herself to stay calm, she called, “Sammy, did you make that noise?”
Sam suddenly came tearing downstairs, frightened. “What was that?” He asked, taking his big sister’s hand.
You’re the oldest. Don’t show him you’re spooked. Out loud, she said, “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”
There came another thump from upstairs, and this time Julie felt she had every right to be a little frightened, herself. “I’m going to go check things out up there,” she told Sam, “you stay down here. Okay?”
“No. I don’t want to stay by myself.”
“Look. You can stay right here at the bottom of the stairs. I’ll just be up there a minute or two. Can you count for me? So I can hear you?”
Sam started counting one-Mississippi, two-Mississippi while Julie climbed, head high for his sake, up the stairs. She would not let herself sneak; it would only scare him, even though she felt like creeping as quietly as she could.
But the closer she got to the top landing, the more shallow her breathing became, and the more frayed her nerves felt. She gripped the handrails for support and finally stepped up into the hallway. She flipped on the light and heard yet another soft thump. It was coming from the only vacant bedroom.
Hands shaking now, she moved silently toward the door, running her hand along the wall. She reached the empty bedroom door and gripped the knob tightly, reminding herself again that she was Sam’s protector now, and she had to be brave for him. She braced herself, counted to three in her head, and threw open the door, her hands desperately searching for the light switch. But before she could find
it, she felt something shoot by her leg and into the hall.
Julie whipped around and came face to face with a large black cat, standing alert with its back arched and tail high, ready to defend itself. She put a hand on her chest and breathed a huge sigh of relief.
Sam was counting louder now, he was up to eighty-one-Mississippi, and she could tell he was trying his best to be brave. “It’s just a cat, Sammy,” she yelled down to him.
“Can I come up now?” He called anxiously.
“Yeah. Come on up.”
Julie entered the room and flipped on the light. Carefully avoiding numerous cobwebs, she moved to the window and found it was open just enough for the cat to squeeze through. She closed and secured it, remembering Tara’s last diary entry to lock the window. She shivered and went out to join Sam in the hall.
Sam was standing next to the cat. Both looked wary. “I don’t think it likes people,” he stated.
Julie gingerly took a step toward the cat. For a split second, its amber eyes locked with hers, and then it took off down the stairs.
“Told you,” Sam said. “You should let it out.”
“I’ll go down there in a few minutes. You look tired, Sam. You ready for bed?”
“I guess,” Sam never wanted to go to bed, but he was tired. It had been a long day.
“Alright, let’s get you settled.” She waited while he put on his PJ’s and looked for a book. “Which one are we reading tonight?”
“Wayside School,” he said, yawning and handing the book to her. Sam was a great reader, but Julie wanted to carry on the tradition of reading to him every night for as long as she could. It took only about ten minutes for him to fall fast asleep. Julie replaced the book to its shelf and bent down to kiss her brother on the forehead. She turned off the light and left the door ajar.
The house was completely silent now. Julie descended the stairs to look for the terrified cat. To her astonishment, she found it curled up in her favorite chair, purring as if no place were more comfortable.
