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Destined Chaos

Page 4

by Kate Allenton


  “Finished eating already?”

  “Lost my appetite,” he said and then nodded toward the window. “Pretty, isn’t it?”

  I glanced out the window. The sleet had stopped. Dark clouds hovered over the mountains. “Looks like a storm is coming.”

  “It is,” he answered. “About the lodge, I’m willing to help you get it up to code if you’ll give me first crack at purchasing it.”

  My stomach twisted in knots. Hugh seemed like a decent guy, regardless that we’d gotten off on the wrong foot. And it wasn’t that I was a bad person. Actually, I was an excellent businesswoman. Still, it didn’t make it any less awkward than what I had to say.

  “That guy with my cousin is an investor. He’s looking at the property tomorrow.”

  “Oh.” Hugh frowned, and his shoulders deflated. “Well, then. I guess there’s no reason for me to still be hanging around.”

  My cheeks heated in awkward realization he was trying to hide his disappointment. “I guess I should be going now.”

  “Yeah, me too.” Hugh followed behind me. My SUV was parked a few spots away. A truck parked out front and a large black Cadillac parked three spaces down.

  “That’s me.”

  I gestured to the SUV.

  “And me. Well, it was nice meeting you, Hugh. I’m sorry it wasn’t under better circumstances.” I stepped out from under the striped awning. My foot slipped from beneath me, sending me sprawling backward.

  “Easy there,” Hugh said, pulling me against his chest and stopping my fall. “The rain turned to ice. You should be more careful.” He glanced down at my feet. “Maybe invest in some boots.”

  “Thanks.” I couldn’t remember the last time I needed someone to save me. Yes, I could. I’d been five years old.

  I righted my shirt and stepped out onto the sidewalk, heading for my SUV. I stepped off the curb, and my ankle twisted. My weight shifted, and I went down as a scream tore from my lips.

  Pain radiated from my foot as I laid half on the curb and half off. The wet ice on the concrete started soaking into the butt of my jeans, sending an ice-cold chill down my legs.

  Hugh appeared, staring down at me. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” I said, trying to stand, only to crumple again when I tried to put any weight on my foot. “No, maybe I’m not.”

  I’d lowered my head, debating my next move, when muscular arms wrapped around my back and beneath my legs. Hugh hefted me in his arms. “You aren’t in any condition to drive, and my brother’s a doctor. We better get you looked at.”

  “One of the Bennett seven?” I asked.

  Hugh frowned. “Yeah.”

  “You have a brother for everything?”

  “Not for everything.”

  I crinkled my nose. “I’m sorry, that was rude of me, and you’re just trying to help. I do appreciate it. Honest.”

  Hugh carried me around to the passenger side of his truck. He eased me down and kept a firm hold wrapped around my waist while he opened the door, helping me into the cab and then closing the door. He jogged around to the other side and climbed in, starting the engine. He turned on the heater before backing out of the parking spot and heading down the road.

  I’d thought this would be a quiet drive between two strangers that hardly knew each other. I was wrong.

  Hugh turned down the radio and glanced my way. “What did Mrs. Weller mean when she said you’ve got fog?”

  6

  Libby

  Fractured. I couldn’t believe I’d fractured my ankle, and it wasn’t even the ghost’s fault.

  Hugh’s brother Dexter had hurried us through the process of paperwork and x-rays as if he were just as aware of the impending weather that Hugh had been talking about on the ride over.

  I left with crutches and my ankle wrapped and stabilized in a boot. The process was quick and painless, if you didn’t count the poking and prodding when we’d first arrived.

  My foot had doubled in size just in the half-hour we’d been in the hospital. This was just one more obstacle that was going to slow me down, but even a fractured foot wouldn’t stop me from getting everything done. No way was I letting this house defeat me.

  Hugh parked in the driveway as the first snowflake fell.

  I shoved open my door and was debating the easiest way to get out when Hugh rounded the truck and swooped me up into his arms, holding me against his chest. He smiled down at me. “Don’t worry. I don’t plan to make this a habit. Unless, of course, you ask me to.”

  “I have crutches.”

  “Yeah, well, there are steps and ice. So…” He didn’t elaborate as he carried me up onto the porch. He eased me down as I unlocked the door and pushed it open. He helped me hobble inside before jogging back outside.

  I was sitting on the staircase when he returned with my crutches and shut the door behind him. His gaze softened as he stared at me with a mixture of pity and humor.

  “You don’t have to stay.”

  He glanced into the den at my sleeping bag and frowned while rubbing his neck. I could see the wheels spinning.

  “I’m not your problem. I’ll manage.”

  “Sleeping on the floor is going to hurt with your foot. You got a bed in this place?”

  “I’m not a damsel in distress. I’ll survive.”

  “Never thought you were. But I can’t in good conscience leave you to fend for yourself. My sister and sisters-in-law would shoot me. Just humor me and point me in the direction of where I can find you something more comfortable. Trust me. This isn’t for you. You’ll be saving my life. You don’t want to be responsible for my impending death, now do you?”

  He’d smoothly twisted the narrative around where it was me helping him and not the other way around. I gestured down the hall with my thumb. “I didn’t think I’d be staying, but there might be something like a cot or air mattress down in the basement. If you’d get that for me, I promise to sing your praises to the female members in your family.”

  “Perfect.” He headed past me down the hall like he knew where he was going. He opened the right door and grinned as he hit the light switch and vanished out of sight.

  Creepy basements didn’t scare this guy. Maybe he really could help me with the contractors.

  A chill skirted my spine when the footsteps from somewhere above started again. I rubbed at the forming goosebumps on my arms, debating if the icy chill was the drafty house or something else. The unsettling feeling of being watched washed over me.

  I pulled myself up using the staircase railing and grabbed my crutches, wishing I were on more steady feet.

  At least this time I was at the bottom stair and not the top. The deadly ghost overall-wearing guy was standing on the top of the stairs staring down at me. I swallowed around my fear, not giving in how his presence affected me. His icy stare held me in place. I wasn’t about to run, not that I’d get very far.

  I held my breath and met his gaze, refusing to look away. His bony fingers clenched into the little ghost girl’s shoulders. She looked up at him over her shoulder with sadness and some type of knowing what was coming next.

  Anger flashed in his eyes and his lips twitched. He gave a hard push and sent the ghost girl tumbling down the stairs.

  My hand flew to my mouth, covering my gasp. All the scared feelings from when I was five rushed through me like a tidal wave. I couldn’t stop my descent back then, and no one had heard my screams. I’d lain at the bottom for what seemed like an eternity before my mother came in from the garden.

  Seconds before the little ghost girl would have reached the bottom, she vanished out of sight. Almost as if this was a residual haunt, but I knew it was not. The man at the top remained unmoving, uncaring. A smile twisted on his lips. His words played in my mind.

  “Welcome back. It’s your turn next.”

  “Bring it on, asshole. I’m not so little anymore.” I fought the feeling of dread that settled in my bones and narrowed my eyes. This guy would not scare me.
Not again. Never again.

  A loud thump sounded in the basement, followed by Hugh’s cursing. The ghost at the top of the stairs vanished.

  “Hugh, are you all right?” I called out as I hobbled down the hallway to the open door.

  He appeared at the bottom of the stairs, carrying the box with the air mattress over his head. “I’m fine, but we’ve got a problem.”

  Whatever he’d found wouldn’t be the first problem, nor the last, not with the way this ghost was screwing with me.

  Hugh hurried up the stairs and set the box on the floor. “Your water heater just busted, and water is gushing everywhere. I need to turn off the water supply at the valve.”

  “Right.” I met his determined gaze. “And where do we do that?”

  “Houses talk to me, remember?”

  “Maybe you should ask it where the dead smoke detector is hiding. It will save me extra trips up and down the stairs,” I said.

  “I’ll take care of that tomorrow after I handle this first. You go back and sit down until I get this situated and can blow up your air mattress.”

  He whisked by me in a run toward the kitchen, where I heard a drawer open and close before the back door did the same.

  “The water heater, really?” I growled and used the end of my crutch to push the box to the sitting room.

  The salt line smeared as I crossed the opening. Pulling out the air mattress and electronic pump from the box, I hooked it up and plugged it in. The loud annoying sound was comforting and drowned out the rest of the unexplainable noises in the house.

  Hugh reappeared minutes later. “Good, you situated?”

  “Just peachy. I don’t suppose you’ve got the number to a water vac guy or a plumber. Whoever can get the water out of the basement.”

  “No need. I can handle it.” He grinned. “You had a pump in the basement. I’m guessing this isn’t the first time this has happened.”

  “Why are you helping me? And don’t say you’re scared your sister is going to give you hell,” I said. “This isn’t your mess.”

  “That’s what friends do,” Hugh answered before disappearing again.

  I’d wanted to correct him and tell him we weren’t friends. That being my friend would be harmful to his health, but he hadn’t stuck around long enough to hear me.

  With the bed done, I grabbed my crutch and hobbled up the stairs toward the linen closet, hoping there might be something to use besides just my sleeping bag.

  The closet was empty. Nothing with this house would ever be easy. I checked the rest of the closets—no luck.

  Stopping in the hallway, I stared at the stairs that led to the third-floor attic where Joseph Slaughter’s personal belongings were stored and out of the way from the construction crews.

  Dinky had made the arrangements to help hurry things along. It was the exact type of place that ghosts might hide out.

  “Get a grip,” I growled beneath my breath. No ghost would scare me. I was older now and educated. The girl appeared on the top step. She smiled at me and then vanished into the door.

  Just as I’d thought. I’d found their hideout.

  Grabbing the railing, I left my crutch against the wall and flicked the light switch.

  I was met with darkness, nothing to help me see.

  “It’s not going to stop me,” I growled beneath my breath.

  One step after the next, I crept up the staircase and kept looking back toward the bottom to make sure nothing was going to attack me from behind.

  I reached for the knob and twisted, only to find the door locked.

  “Damn.” It looked like not only had the ghost won this point but that I’d be using a sleeping bag until morning.

  I spun to head back downstairs. A scream ripped from my lips and my heart threatened to beat out of my chest to find Hugh standing right behind me. “You scared me.”

  “Sorry,” he answered. “I’m draining the water and wanted to tell you that it’s going slow, so I might be here a while if that’s okay with you.”

  “Thanks.” I sighed.

  “What were you looking for?” he asked.

  “Blankets or sheets, but the door is locked. I think Dinky still has the key from when he had Joseph’s stuff moved up here.”

  “You call your grandfather Joseph?” Hugh asked as I eased back down the stairs with him walking in front of me to catch me should I fall.

  “I remember little about the guy. It’s not like he was a grandfather to me.”

  “Right,” Hugh said. “Well, if it’s blankets you need, I keep some in the truck.”

  “That’s odd,” I said, grabbing my crutches at the bottom of the stairs.

  “Not really. You have to be prepared up here. They’re a part of my emergency kit. In these mountains, the weather can turn on a dime. If my truck breaks down in a blizzard, I won’t freeze to death. I have some waters and granola bars too.”

  “I couldn’t take your blankets. Like you said, they’re in your emergency kit.”

  He grinned and took my elbow, helping me back into the den. “This is an emergency. I can’t have you dying of hypothermia before you decide I’m the right buyer for Slaughter House.”

  A smile split my lips. Ulterior motives. Now that was something I understood well. With the halls and rooms empty, there was nothing to absorb the loud pump noise coming from the basement. A headache was forming behind my eyes.

  “Sorry it’s so loud. The water was already flowing when we got here. You’re going to have some damage to the drywall,” he yelled over the noise while I plopped down on the air mattress.

  “I’ll add it to my list of junk to fix.”

  “I’ll be right back.” He jogged out of the house and returned moments later, carrying a large plastic tub into the den. He dropped it on the floor and shut the French doors, diluting some pump noise.

  “You guys really do get prepared up here.”

  Hugh shrugged as he pulled the top off the tub. “My brother got lost in the woods once, and then my other brother almost got stranded, too, when he was chasing ghosts. So, now my sister, Clara, won’t let us go anywhere without being prepared.”

  I sat up straighter. “You have a family member that can see ghosts?”

  Hugh smiled and met my gaze. “Doesn’t everyone?”

  7

  Hugh

  I tossed the tub lid to the side and pulled out a couple of red plaid blankets. Each had the Bennett name embroidered on it.

  Helping Libby to her feet, I laid the blankets over the air mattress and then rolled up her sleeping bag to use as her pillow.

  She’d been watching me without saying a word. Her Caribbean-sea eyes sparkled more green than blue. The light in her eyes contradicted her frown.

  I pushed the tub closer to her. “Help yourself. I’m going to go check on the pump.”

  She’d smudged the salt line around the French door from when she’d pushed the box in. I straightened it with my boot in passing and glanced at her once more before leaving her alone.

  Not that she wasn’t capable of taking care of herself. Clearly, she was. Just getting the box to the den had to be a major pain in the rear.

  I jogged down the basement stairs, feeling responsible that this had happened. I’d warned her about the water heater, even if I couldn’t tell her how I knew. I still should have gone beyond that and called someone to help her that minute. Granted, I hadn’t had anything to do with the rusted water heater. This was still my fault and something I would rectify in the morning.

  I’d opened a basement window and run the nozzle out of the house, checking the slow flow as it trickled out into the grass. The frigid air had me rubbing my hands together, wishing I’d thought to bring gloves. The water on the floor barely looked like it was moving. This was going to be a long night.

  Thump.

  The sound came from the darkened corner of the basement that was covered by boxes on shelves. I’d turned back to the task at hand when I felt the tug on
my jacket.

  I turned, expecting to find Libby. My eyes widened with alarm to find I was still alone.

  A chill swept over me. “Hello?”

  Nothing and no one answered.

  The light above flickered, and I was sure it was going to go out but it didn’t. Maybe this house really was haunted. I jogged up the stairs. giving one last look around. “I’m not going away.”

  Still no answer.

  I shrugged and returned to the den, where Libby had pulled out the things from the tub and was putting them back in. “You’ve got everything from bottled waters to a condom in here.”

  I glanced at the supplies. “Doesn’t hurt to always be prepared.”

  She held up the rope and a bottle of champagne. “I’m not even going to ask what you plan to use these for.”

  I chuckled and took the rope from her. “The rope was for rappelling when my brother found bones in the bottom of Devil’s Pit. The champagne…” I shrugged. “Looks like something my sister might have added in case she ever gets stranded with me.”

  “Always prepared. I like her already.”

  “I’m going to stay until the pump is done. I opened a window to get the water out. I’ll call in a replacement water heater in the morning for you.”

  “That’s kind of you. I can’t imagine what I’d do if you weren’t here.”

  “Well, you wouldn’t have broken your foot,” I said and gestured to her boot. “Mrs. Weller wouldn’t have felt compelled to cook us dinner, and you would never have slipped.”

  “Don’t kid yourself. I would have totally slipped, eventually. I am that clumsy.” Her gaze drifted to the closed French doors.

  I turned, following the direction, and no one was there.

  “Why don’t you rest and I’ll see about getting a fire started,” I said, gesturing to the fireplace.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t do that. This house sat empty for several months.”

  “I have it on good authority that a fire will be fine.”

  “Right, house whisperer,” she said, putting the champagne bottle back into the tub. “I guess that’s better than ghost whisperer.”

 

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