Haunted Hideout

by Michelle Dorey

  ELEVEN

  Lydia

  LYDIA’S HANDS SHOOK when she pulled Mark into her body. Her poor baby had been outside all alone and...and some guy was out there? With one arm still sheltering his, she reached for the door latch and flipped the dead bolt. Herding him into the kitchen, she raced to the window, just in time to see Jake stepping out from the grass onto the beach. His hand was outstretched holding his weapon.

  When Mark sidled close, joining her in watching the beach area, she turned to him and her words rushed out in a torrent, “Did he come near you? What was he doing? Did he say anything?” Her heart thudded fast in her chest while she fought hard to keep her voice even and steady.

  “What’s going on?” Angela was at the counter. She hadn’t even heard her enter with her feet in thick socks. “What’re you looking at?” She stood on Lydia’s other side, pulling the curtain wider.

  “Mark saw someone at the beach just now. Jake is gone to check it.” She stepped back and then raced across the kitchen and down the hall. The front door was probably locked but she had to make sure! Her fingers twisted the knob but of course it was locked. She looked into the living room on her way by peering at the window, and Jake’s sleeping bag still spread on the sofa. He was going to be staying a few more nights until he could say with absolute certainty they were safe!

  She sprinted back to the kitchen; the kids were still hunched at the window. “Anything?” She clutched their shoulders when she stepped between them, her face close to the clouded glass. She swiped it clear.

  “No.” Angela turned to her brother, “What were you doing out there all by yourself? That was a dumb move.”

  “He’s coming back.” Lydia saw Jake shake his head, seeing them staring out the window. But instead of coming in, he strode out of sight at the back of the house.

  “He’s probably checking the barn.” Mark shrugged the coat from his shoulder and set it on the back of the chair. The blue of his eyes were rimmed in white; he was still so shook up. He walked into the dining room and stopped at the window, cupping his hands to the glass and watching the area outside.

  “Maybe Angela’s right. Until we know what’s what around here, no wandering off outside by yourself. Understood?” Oh my God. What would she have done if Mark had been hurt? Until Jake came back in the house, they weren’t out of the woods yet.

  “K.” His voice was muffled but at least he was agreeing. The poor kid was scared to death.

  At the pounding on the front door, her hand flew to her throat. Mark raced to the door. “Make sure it’s Jake before you open it!” she yelled.

  But still she hightailed it right behind her son.

  “It’s me!” She recognized the agent’s voice and opened the door.

  When he stepped inside he cupped his hands in front of his face and blew some warmth into purple-tinged fingers. Even the top of his ears were red from the cold air outside. “You sure you saw someone, Mark? There wasn’t a sign of anyone that I could see; no footprints anywhere or any tire tracks either. You said it was an old man? What was he wearing?”

  Mark met his gaze without faltering. “I saw a guy. Honest. He had on this cloth-type hat that was like a tam or something, and his coat was dark. It hung almost to his knees. He kept watching the river like he didn’t even know I was there. I turned away for a second and then he was gone!”

  Jake looked over at him for a moment, the doubt clear in his puzzled eyes. “I believe you saw something Mark. But maybe it was a bush or tree that kind of looked like a guy? We’re at least a half a mile from your closest neighbor. And if someone was there, I would have seen him walking away. The barn was clear and no sign of any vehicle other than mine. I checked it too.”

  Mark’s face had regained its color and then some. His cheeks were tinged with angry spots of red when he turned and raced up the stairs. She was about to follow him when Jake’s hand on her arm made her stop. “Let him go. He needs some space. I’ll talk to him later. Maybe we’ll go outside and check the beach from where he stood. It might have been a trick of the light or...I don’t know, a bush?”

  She took a deep breath trying to tease the knot of worry in her chest loose. Mark wouldn’t make this up. He was truthful almost to a fault sometimes. But he’d been through a lot in the last seventy-two hours. Maybe he thought he saw something, but that description had been pretty detailed for it being just a bush.

  “I’m getting something to eat.” Angela spun on her heels and went back to the kitchen.

  Lydia scowled after her daughter. “I need a coffee. I’ll talk to Mark later. If you go to the beach with him, Jake, I’m going too.” She shot a cold glance at the agent. How hard had he really looked? Was he any good at his job? But, the other two agents had sang his praise, that he was one of their best. So far, she wasn’t impressed, dismissing her son’s claims that easily.

  “I’m going to make some calls. Let me know when you want to go into town.” He slipped his coat off and hung it on the hook by the door. He fished a set of keys from his coat pocket and walked silently into the living room, shoving them into his pants.

  All this and she hadn’t had a cup of coffee yet. She blew out a long sigh as she walked down the hall to join her daughter.

  TWELVE

  Lydia

  WHEN LYDIA ENTERED THE KITCHEN, Angela was rummaging in the cabinet.

  The girl flicked a packet of hot chocolate powder, and a wan smile flashed. “Seems like a good morning for hot chocolate. We need to turn the heat up in this place.” She mixed her drink and then popped it into the microwave before looking over. “You don’t think there was really anyone out there do you?”

  Lydia sighed and poured a coffee. “I don’t know what to think. I trust Mark. But that agent didn’t see anyone or a sign of anyone. I’m going to check it myself when I get dressed.”

  At the beep of the microwave, Angela pulled out the mug. “Y’know… it could have been a bush or something. Have you ever noticed Mark squint sometimes? Maybe he needs glasses.” She popped bread into the toaster and then leaned against the counter, sipping the hot drink.

  Lydia stirred her coffee but her hand paused at Angela’s words. She’d never noticed that about Mark, yet her daughter...a girl who had always been caught up in a busy social life, had. What kind of a mother doesn’t notice her kid squinting trying to see things in the distance? How had she never noticed? “That’s news to me, Angela. He never mentioned that it was hard to see the blackboard at school or—”

  “He wouldn’t. Bad enough he’s scrawny without wearing glasses too. How much of a nerd would he look like then? Besides...” Angela’s voice trailed off, “...you were always working. You never would have noticed.”

  Oh God. It was the truth. The only surprising thing was that Liam hadn’t noticed either. Surely if it had been that bad he would have. But then again, Liam was busy trying to stay alive and keep them safe. Shit. Here she had thought the FBI agent was incompetent but it might just be Mark’s eyesight. If anyone was incompetent it was her, as a mother.

  She sat down at the table next to Angela. “I’m sorry. I did work a lot and maybe I wasn’t there for you guys as much as I should have been.” She took a deep breath. But that would change. Hell it had to change, considering everything that happened.

  Angela surprised her when she placed her hand on hers. “It cost a lot to live in Miami. You did what you had to do. And maybe Mark’s eyes aren’t that bad. Dad never noticed, did he?”

  Her eyebrows bobbed high and she nodded. The kid had a point. Actually two points. The extra income she earned had meant the difference in living in a better neighborhood and taking a two-week vacation every summer. Lots of their friends hadn’t been able to do that. “Well, I won’t be working insane hours anymore.” She snorted and smiled at her daughter. “Imagine me working in an office, nine-to-five. I’ll get used to it though, I suppose.” It would be mind-numbing, pushing paper rather than working with the public, but at least she’d b
e around more for the kids. She sure wouldn’t miss the Church-of-the-Open-House, every Sunday trying to move dud houses.

  “I hope we can get the internet hooked up soon. It’s going to be so boring out here without it.” Angela finished the last gulp of her chocolate and then looked down at the table. “I wonder what Sophia thinks. Or actually any of my friends. I just vanished into thin air without warning.”

  It was a whole lifestyle and circle of friends to grieve about. If Angela, who was strong and resourceful was hurting; what must Mark be going through, missing Arnie and David? In an ironic way, it was a blessing that all of the children’s grandparents were long dead.

  Instead of having a second cup of coffee, she got up. “I’m going to get changed, and see how your brother’s doing. Then we’re heading to town for some more stuff. You want to come along? The sooner we get ready, the sooner we can leave. Maybe we’ll get Jake to drive us by the high school so you can see it.”

  When Angela nodded and walked over to the sink to rinse out her dishes, she added the coup de grâce. “I’d like your input on the car to buy. In another year you’ll be driving it, you know.”

  The wide smile on her daughter’s face was a welcome change.

  ***

  Jake glanced up when the two women walked by the living room to head upstairs. He got up and walked to the entryway, placing Lydia’s new set of house keys near her purse on the hall table. He tossed his own keys at the other end and then peeked out the window in the door. Still, there was only the Toyota parked out front, no sign of any movement or tracks in the frost.

  The mother was having second thoughts as to his ability to protect them, but that was okay. Far better that she supported her son right then. The kid had seen something, but it sure hadn’t been some guy gawking at the water. There wasn’t a soul around. It had to be a trick of the light or maybe his imagination.

  He glanced at the stairs, hearing the murmur of their voices before the small bangs of drawers shutting signaled they were getting dressed. They had a full day ahead, getting more groceries, the banking and cruising car lots. With any luck, they’d be ready soon to get on with it.

  This relocation assignment was a pain in the ass. He was an FBI agent for Pete’s sake! And here he was, out in the middle of nowhere, playing nursemaid to the family of a dead guy. He shook his head. What a drag; ferrying them around, acting like a tour guide, holding their hands as they eased into a new life...what a tedious pain.

  He wandered down the hall to get a coffee. As he sipped it, he stood at the kitchen window looking out at the rocky shoreline. There were a few outcroppings of trees and low-lying scrub cedar that the kid could have mistaken for a man.

  But the kid had also described a cap and even such detail as the guy’s hands in his pockets. That didn’t sound like he’d seen some bush or something. Unless the kid was acting out a bit, looking for attention. That wouldn’t be unheard of with these kinds of families, especially for the kids involved.

  Still. He gulped the coffee and then strode from the room. One more check outside wouldn’t hurt. As he passed the door to the basement, he noticed that it was ajar and the light was on. He could have sworn that he’d shut that door and turned the light off last night. He darted his eyes to the left and right. The guy outside, now this?

  He slipped his gun out and stepped inside, peering into the dim space at the bottom of the stairs before he flipped another light switch next to his head. Immediately, the gray cement pad at the bottom showed along with the electrical panel and a washing machine and dryer. He inched down the stairs, his gaze arcing over the musty room while a ticking sound just barely audible, pulsed. At the last step he noticed the laundry tub, and the steady drip of water falling from the tap.

  He jerked to the side when a cobweb floated against his cheek, his hand scraping at the threads. Yuck. If there was one thing he hated, it was bugs. Little by little he made his way across the room, leaning to the side to check beside the furnace. Darkness was the sole occupant, aside from a centipede or two. There was nothing down there. He was about to put his gun away when a creak on the ancient steps made him spin, aiming it.

  It was the boy! Mark’s eyes flared wide and his feet pounded on the stairs, racing up.

  “Hey! Wait.” Jake’s shoulders slumped as he tucked the gun back in his holster. Shit. Mark finding him in the cellar like he was Dirty Harry or something would do nothing to calm the kid’s nerves. The kid was already thinking of getting a gun. For sure now, he would obsess over it.

  He walked quickly up the stairs, making sure this time that he turned all the lights off and shut the door tight. Mark stood at the entrance to the kitchen staring at him when he emerged from below. Jake’s head tipped to the side, peering at Mark in return. “Did you go down there earlier? The light was on.”

  “No.”

  He blew out a long sigh. “Maybe your mom or Angela did. The light was on so I thought I’d check it out. Nothing there but spiders.”

  Footsteps on the upper set of stairs let him know that the women were ready. When Lydia rounded the newel post, her head jerked back seeing Mark and him just standing there outside the kitchen.

  “I thought we’d check out that beach area before we head to town.” She glanced behind her, “Angela? You coming too?”

  But Angela was way ahead of her, handing her the down jacket. “I wouldn’t miss it. I want to take a peek in the barn as well.”

  Mark had disappeared into the kitchen, and when he returned he was shoving his arms into his coat.

  “We’re ready if you are.” Lydia smiled and her hand rose to rest on her son’s shoulder.

  “I’ll just get my jacket.” Jake slipped by them and went to the front door. As he lifted his coat from the hook he glanced down at the small table. The two sets of keys that he’d placed on the table were missing. But Lydia’s purse still sat there.

  When he slipped the jacket on, he looked down at the three of them. “Did you take the keys that I put on the table, here?”

  Lydia shook her head. “No.”

  A quick glance at Angela and Mark showed a puzzled look while they shook their heads. But Mark had been downstairs before the women. Keys just didn’t move themselves. And he’d need those keys to start the car.

  “Are you sure you put them there? Check your pockets.” Lydia turned, and her hand was on Mark’s shoulder, nudging him to the back door.

  Jake shoved his hands in his pockets but only found a gum wrapper and a ball of lint. He could have sworn he put those keys on the table. Mark. It had to be the kid who’d taken them. He’d have to get him alone and find out where he’d hidden them. What was with that kid? First he sees some mystery guy and then he hides the keys. If that wasn’t a cry for attention he didn’t know what was.

  As he passed by the kitchen, he looked across the room to the window, doing a quick scan to the outside. But it wasn’t the beach or water that caught his eye. The two sets of keys were littered over the kitchen table, the two silver rings sat next to them. Not only had the keys been moved but the little shit had taken them off the rings.

  He stomped over and scooped the mess of keys and rings up. He couldn’t stop the roll of his eyes when he shoved them into his pocket. It was a small thing, and perhaps for the boy’s sake, it was best ignored. It wouldn’t do to reward that kind of behavior. The kid was obviously acting out, but you could catch more flies with honey than vinegar. His grandmother had always said that, and so far, it worked most of the time.

  When he stepped out into the fresh air, the sun was now hidden by a bank of gray clouds. Snow clouds. It was sure cold enough to snow. He flipped the buttons on his coat closed and then walked quickly to catch up with them. They were almost at the beach. He’d get a clear view from where the kid had stood and hopefully find some kind of explanation to reassure them. But after the key incident he was even more convinced that Mark was making it up.

  THIRTEEN

  Angela

 
; ANGELA SHOVED THE FUZZY MITTENS IN HER POCKETS. It had been a long afternoon running here and there getting groceries, and supplies, and she was tired. She gazed out the car window at fields of long grass, dead and leached of all color, while trees were black with only the odd, brown leaf stubbornly clinging.

  They were still kind of crawling along the road. A quick glance out the front window revealed the yellow school bus they’d been trailing for the last few miles. The car came to a halt, right behind the bus. She looked out the window at a squat, brick bungalow. It was probably their closest neighbor from the looks of it. The driveway was long, easily accommodating the transport truck and an ATV parked at the end. Past the vehicles, at the very back of the driveway was a rusty, gray-metal shed with a door swaying from the track in the wind.

  It was when the bus started again that the student who’d gotten off could be seen. A teenage girl with a blue hat slung low above a cascade of bronze curls, in a bulky parka and jeans. The girl turned her head peering at their car, a puzzled look in her eyes: she came to a standstill, openly gawking. She looked to be about the same age as Angela.

  Jake broke the silence, “I guess we know where your bus stop is now.”

  The bus turned down another roadway, leaving the way clear. In the distance the tops of the trees outside her house, and the roof could be seen.