Which he had, but he hadn’t bought the house to impress anyone. Truthfully, it hadn’t been so impressive when he bought it — the former owner had lived there for forty years and hadn’t upgraded a thing. If her son, who was a software developer in Seattle, hadn’t wanted to unload the place quickly, Michael knew he would have paid a lot more for it. As it was, he’d spent almost eighty grand in repairs and updates, which was still a deal, since the last appraisal he’d had on the place had put it close to a million, more than double what he’d paid.
When she spoke again, though, it wasn’t to ask about his house. Deb looked over at her niece and said, “Of course you can stay with me for as long as you need.”
For the first time, some color flickered along Audrey’s cheekbones. “Oh, well….” A breath, and she went on, “That’s really generous, Deb, but I was over at Michael’s for most of this past week, and I’m just going to stay there until I get everything sorted out.”
“Oh.” Michael could tell Deb was startled by this revelation, but she only hesitated for a moment before continuing. “I hadn’t realized things were that serious between you.” She didn’t say “already,” but she didn’t have to.
“I don’t know about ‘serious’ — ” Audrey began, but Michael cut in.
“Audrey’s welcome to stay at my place for as long as she needs to.” He figured he’d better leave it there; of course, he would be happy to have her stay with him permanently, but they hadn’t had that particular conversation yet, and he really didn’t want to have it in front of her aunt.
Luckily, Deb seemed satisfied by his offer. “Well, that’s very kind of you, Michael.” She glanced over at her niece, adding, “But if you need someplace else to stay, just let me know. My place is going to be empty for a while in a few weeks — Bob and I are going on an Alaskan cruise during spring break.”
“That sounds fun,” Audrey said, but her tone was absent, as if her thoughts were very far away.
As they should be. Michael wondered how he would react if his house burned to the ground with everything in it. While he liked the place very much, was proud of the work he’d put into it, he also wouldn’t be emotionally devastated if it was suddenly gone. He hadn’t grown up there, looked at it as much as an investment as anything else. The loss of his books would be much more traumatic, since he’d spent most of his adult life amassing that collection. Many of those volumes were rare, antique editions of occult texts that he’d invested a great deal of time and money in tracking down. The thought of having to replace all of them was dismaying, to say the least.
Not that he had to worry about such a thing happening to him. The Whitcomb-demon had interfered here, that much seemed to be clear, but he would never be able to get close enough to Michael’s property to inflict this kind of damage. The wards he’d put in place ensured the safety of his house, and right now he was cursing himself for not doing the same thing to Audrey’s home after the first incident of vandalism. To be fair, he hadn’t thought the demon would lash out in such a terrible way. What had been done to her possessions inside was one thing; no one would know about that particular damage unless she shared what had happened to her. But to burn down a house, to invite investigations and scrutiny?
That indicated a level of boldness Michael frankly hadn’t expected. Was this a calculated move, or something done out of desperation in the hope that dealing with such a catastrophe would distract Audrey — and, by extension, Michael — so they would give up their pursuit of the truth regarding the demon they’d uncovered in the Whitcomb mansion?
Either option seemed plausible enough. He supposed it very much depended on how close they were actually getting to unearthing some of his secrets. Up until this point, Michael wouldn’t have thought they were very close to the truth at all, but now he wondered. Perhaps the photograph they’d found in Susan/Eleanor’s house had been a more valuable piece of evidence than they’d thought. So far, he hadn’t heard anything from Fred, but it was still early in the day.
Both of the women’s attention seemed to be caught by a car coming around the corner, then slowing as it approached the house. The vehicle was a white compact SUV, but it had the welcome State Farm logo on both the front doors. At least, Michael hoped its arrival was welcome. Dealing with insurance companies always put him on edge, probably because of all the paperwork he’d had to handle while getting his mother into the managed-care facility where she lived now…the battles he’d had with his father’s life insurance company when they’d tried to deny the claim because of his persistent alcoholism.
Michael had finally won in the end, using the money to help pay for his mother’s very expensive care, since Social Security and Medicare hadn’t begun to cover all the costs involved. However, that was not the sort of soul-sucking conflict he’d wish on anyone, let alone the woman who so quickly had become the most important thing in his world.
The driver-side door of the SUV opened, and a trim woman in her mid-thirties got out. She had a satchel slung over one shoulder and immediately headed for the group on the sidewalk, then paused and asked after giving them all a quick once-over, “Audrey Barrett?”
“That’s me,” Audrey said.
The woman stretched out a hand, “I’m Lauren Connell. From State Farm,” she added quite unnecessarily, since the logo on the car door was obvious to anyone within a hundred feet.
Audrey shook the woman’s hand. “I’d say I’m pleased to meet you, but….”
“I understand,” Lauren replied, professional smile not wavering for a single second. “And I know this is very difficult, so we’ll just go as quickly as we can. Have you talked to the fire department?”
“Only briefly. They said the police department needed to investigate. You actually just missed the inspector who was here.”
“Did he find anything conclusive?”
At last, Audrey seemed to relax a little. “He said he couldn’t find any signs that the fire was deliberately set. He’s actually writing up his report now.”
“Good. Did you get his name?”
Now Audrey looked stricken. “No, I completely forgot to ask.”
“It’s not a problem. I’ll head over to the police station after I’m done here. You don’t mind if I look around?”
Audrey managed a smile, albeit a very wan one. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”
“True. I’ll be as fast as I can.”
The insurance adjuster walked away from them, pulling a professional-looking camera out of her bag as she went. Almost at once she began snapping pictures as she slowly began to make a circuit of the still-smoking foundation.
They were all quiet for a moment. Then Deb said, “I got someone to cover my nine o’clock, but she couldn’t take my ten o’clock class. I put a sign on the door saying class was canceled, but it’s so close to midterms — ”
“It’s fine,” Audrey said. She reached over and squeezed her aunt’s hand briefly. “Thank you so much for coming over. But I don’t want you to miss your class. Really. There isn’t much else any of us can do except wait at this point anyway.”
This was only the truth…filing insurance claims was all about waiting…and waiting…but still Deb hesitated, as if she thought she could do something else for her niece. “If you’re sure — ”
“I’m sure.” Audrey smiled again, although this time her expression looked almost genuine. “We’re just going to wait here until the adjuster is done, and then Michael’s going to take me out for breakfast. I’ll be fine.”
“All right.” Deb glanced over at Michael. “Thank you for looking after her.”
“I would never let her deal with this alone,” he said, which was only the truth.
“Still…thank you. And Audrey, please call me when you know something about the insurance.”
“I will.”
That seemed to satisfy her, because Deb gave them a wave of farewell, then headed back over to her silver Lexus SUV and got in. As she was pulling
away from the curb, Audrey spoke.
“I think she was surprised to see you.”
“Have you mentioned me to her?”
Audrey shook her head. “Not really. We haven’t had a chance to talk much after all this” — a wave of the hand, as if to indicate not just the ruin of her house, but the Whitcomb mansion a mile or so away — “began. I told her about the show, obviously, but she had no idea we were…well, whatever it is we’re doing. I guess we can’t really call it dating.”
“I don’t think it really matters what we call it,” Michael said gently. “Labels don’t mean much, do they?”
“I guess not.” Audrey tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, then glanced past him, as if to make sure there was no one nearby who could overhear what they were saying. But Lauren was still occupied with her inspection toward the rear of what used to be the house, and no one else appeared to be around. “I’m scared, Michael.”
At once he reached for her, pulled her against him. Gently, as it was truly a very chaste embrace, but he could tell she needed the physical contact right then. Holding her like this, when they weren’t in the throes of passion, he noticed how slender and fragile she felt, how her head only came up to the bottom of his chin. Somehow, she’d seemed taller than that.
“I know,” he said. There was no point in telling her not to be scared, because she had every right to feel that way. “Our enemy is even more ruthless than I thought. But he can’t harm my house, or us while we’re there.”
Audrey looked up at him, eyes wide and worried. “But he can get us while we’re standing here.”
“I suppose he could try, but it wouldn’t be very smart. There are very few reports of demons attacking people in broad daylight with observers nearby.”
“Except what happened at the bed-and-breakfast in Tucson.”
Her tone had been rueful, so Michael didn’t think she’d intended the comment as a jab at him. “Well, yes, there was that, but those were very different circumstances. Edgar and Jackie Samuels already knew there was something very strange going on at their property. The demon attack was a surprise, but it wasn’t a shock, if you know what I mean. It wasn’t revealing anything they didn’t already know.”
“Well, that’s true.” She looked away from him for a moment, but apparently only to check on Lauren’s progress. The adjuster was now poking around at what appeared to be the remains of the fuse box. Was she hoping to find some evidence that the fire had begun there, the result of a short, or faulty wiring?
That would be simplest, but Michael knew the woman from State Farm wouldn’t find anything that clear-cut. Demons didn’t work that way.
“So,” he went on, “while I suppose you could say we’re at risk whenever we’re away from my house, I wouldn’t say the risk was terribly high. I wouldn’t walk any dark alleyways alone, but I didn’t think that sort of excursion figured in our plans anyway.”
Now Audrey smiled, and he was glad to see some of the light finally returning to her eyes. “No, that probably wouldn’t be a very good idea, would it?”
“Not at all.” He paused, doing his best to gather his thoughts, to offer something that might help her to make sense of all this. “A demonologist once wrote that demons engage in psychological warfare, and that’s exactly what we’re dealing with here. Our adversary wants you off balance, worried, not thinking clearly. But you can’t let that happen. Because, although I’m still not sure exactly why he took this extreme step, it shows that he’s worried. If he really thought we had no chance of stopping him, then he wouldn’t have gone to these lengths. Does that make sense?”
“As much as any of this does.” Her lips pressed together, and he could almost see the way she gathered herself, as if she knew this was only another skirmish in a much bigger war, and that she had to continue to steel herself against what might come next. Very carefully, she pulled away from him, although she kept hold of his hand, clinging to it as if she was worried about what would happen if she let go. “Actually, it makes me feel a little better. I’d like to know that we have the bastard running scared.”
That might be a bit of an exaggeration, but Michael didn’t bother to correct her. He needed Audrey to be strong now, and if that meant giving her a little extra encouragement, he wasn’t going to worry about it.
Lauren approached them as she stuffed the clipboard she’d been using to write down her notes back into the satchel hanging from her left shoulder. “I think I have what I need,” she said.
“Did you find anything conclusive?” Audrey asked.
“Not exactly. That is, I wasn’t able to determine exactly where the fire started, but, as you told me earlier, there don’t seem to be any signs of an accelerant being used. It was probably a wiring issue, but those can be hard to track down when the structure is a total loss the way this one is.”
That remark made Audrey wince, and Michael gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.
“Sorry,” Lauren said. “I know this is tough. But I’m going to talk to the arson investigator, and also to the firemen who put out the blaze. It might take a few days to collate all the data and make a determination. Do you have someplace to stay? Your policy allows up to thirty days in a hotel within a ten-mile radius of your home.”
Color flared along Audrey’s cheekbones, but her voice was steady as she replied, “I’m staying with Michael at his place.”
“Okay, good. This is still your current number?” The adjuster rattled off the digits to Audrey’s cell phone number.
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“Then I’ll be on my way. Do you have a way to get your email? I’ll be sending you the claim forms as soon as I’m done speaking with the authorities here in Glendora.”
Audrey nodded. “Yes, I have my laptop.”
“And she can use my printer if necessary,” Michael put in.
Lauren looked pleased that they seemed relatively organized. “That’ll speed things up. If I have any more questions, I’ll call.” A pause as she reached into an outer pocket of her satchel and drew out a business card. “And here’s my card. Please feel free to contact me if you have any questions, or if you haven’t heard from me by the end of the day on Wednesday.”
Audrey took the card. “Thank you — I will.”
That seemed to be the end of it. The adjuster made her goodbyes to the two of them before getting back in her compact SUV and driving off. Audrey looked over at the ruin of her house, then back at him. Once again, he could see the way her full mouth thinned, but her gaze as she met his eyes was steady.
“I think I’m ready for that breakfast now.”
Chapter 9
Audrey scowled down at the insurance paperwork Lauren had emailed her. A hearty breakfast had helped to improve her mood somewhat — after Michael had convinced her that she really needed to eat something — but Audrey knew by the time she was done itemizing everything that had been lost, the tiny niggle of a headache somewhere behind her eyes was probably going to turn into a full-blown migraine.
She tried to tell herself that it could have been worse. A lot of people weren’t as organized about these things as she was, but she’d stored the deed to the house and the insurance paperwork in a safety deposit box at a local bank, along with an itemized list of everything her home had contained. The list wasn’t completely up to date, but she figured it was close enough. She hadn’t made any major purchases since the last time she’d compiled her home inventory, and she wasn’t going to agonize over the few pairs of shoes or items of clothing that had been left out.
No, what was making her head ache was simply the physical work of transferring all that data to the insurance company’s forms. With each entry she made, she realized that the item she was describing was gone forever, from the little entry table that had belonged to her paternal grandmother to the outrageously marked down Coach purse she’d found on sale two years earlier. They were only things, of course, but they were her things.
All she had
now was the wardrobe from the show — thank God the cable exec hadn’t asked for any of that back — and the few things she’d taken from the house after it was vandalized the first time. That infinitely precious picture of her with her parents. The little box of jewelry she’d shoved into her weekender bag. Good thing she’d never been much of a jewelry person. All she owned was a couple of pairs of silver hoop earrings, a chunky silver bracelet, and an equally chunky silver ring set with a black opal. She’d kept things minimal because she really didn’t have the money to indulge herself, and she hoped that having a couple of good, simple pieces would make her look chic rather than broke.
There was also the diamond eternity band her father had bought her mother for their fifteenth anniversary, and which had come to Audrey after their deaths. Her mother hadn’t been much into jewelry, either; one of Audrey’s pairs of silver earrings had actually belonged to her mother. And that was it, except for a delicate little lavaliere-style pendant done in gold and pearls and a single cornflower-blue sapphire. It had once belonged to her great-grandmother…or maybe it was her great-great-grandmother. She couldn’t recall for sure, since the family history started to get a little muddy that far back. Either way, she never wore the pendant because it wasn’t really her style, although from time to time she’d take it out of the box and look at it, admire the quality of the sapphire and the delicacy of the setting, before she put it back again.
“How’s it going?” Michael asked. They were both in his large, comfortable study, she working on her laptop at the table located underneath one of the windows, he at his desk and going through the mail on his big iMac. It should have been a cozy enough setup…except for the nature of the paperwork she was currently wading through.
“It’s going,” Audrey said. She set down her pen and flexed her fingers, trying to work out some of the kinks. “I don’t know why I have to give them so much information — the house was only insured up to its appraised value, plus another twenty-five thousand for the contents. I could tell them I was storing the Hope diamond in there, and they wouldn’t give me anything over and above the specified amount.”
Unholy Ground Page 11
