I swallowed hard. Did this woman have a gun?
“Stay back,” she whispered, and her footsteps shuffled farther away from the door to the hallway. “I’m warning you.”
The one-sided argument kept me so captivated that when a small, cold hand slipped its fingers into my palm as if seeking comfort, my first instinct was to squeeze it tightly. When the contact registered a moment later, adrenaline exploded through my body, racing through my veins as I looked at my side and realized there was no child there.
7
Ben went into the room with a baseball bat and a fresh can of mace, then emerged thirty seconds later sporting an expression that was half-puzzled, half-irritated.
“Is this some kind of joke?” he asked me, the baseball bat swinging at his side. “There’s no one in there.”
“You’re kidding.”
I pushed past him, into the magnificent master bedroom suite. The canopied bed was large enough to fit at least four people comfortably, and the linens were fit for royals. Gold curtains trimmed with sparkling tassels covered the windows, keeping every bit of light, including the moon’s, outside. I checked in the adjoining bathroom as well as the walk-in closet, but there was no sign of intruders.
“I saw feet!” I fumed, looking under the bed for good measure. “I heard her voice. Ben, there was a woman in here. I swear.”
“Are we done with this game yet?” Ben gave the bat an impatient twirl. “Because I don’t know how many times I have to go over this with you. It’s an—”
“Old house,” I finished for him, mocking his deep voice. “I’m bound to hear things go bump in the night. Yeah, I know, but this was different. Someone was up here. What are you doing?”
He punched a number into his phone. “I’m calling the cops. If you’re so sure someone broke in, we have to report it.”
“So you believe me?”
He shushed me and said into the phone, “Hello, I’d like to report a potential break-in.”
Twenty minutes later, Officer Hillary Spaughton stood in the middle of our entryway, her perfect platinum hair spilling out of her Falconwood P.D. knit cap like the tail of a unicorn. She’d already done a lap around the house, once inside and once outside. Like Ben, she’d come up empty-handed, but that didn’t stop her from taking thorough notes in her official police notepad.
“You said you heard a voice from the bathroom?” Hillary asked.
“Yeah,” Ben answered for me. “She said it was a woman speaking.”
“Why don’t you let Peyton answer the questions, Ben.”
Ben blushed as Hillary stepped around him to where I was sitting on the bottom step of the mezzanine staircase. She took off her coat and draped it over my knees as she sat beside me. Ben, unlike Hillary, hadn’t noticed I was shivering.
“It sounded like two people arguing,” I told her as she flipped to a fresh page in her notepad. “But I could only hear the woman. I followed the voice upstairs to that bedroom. I even saw feet beneath the door.”
“Two pairs?”
“Just one.”
“And what did the woman say again?”
“She kept saying she couldn’t handle it anymore,” I explained. “She sounded like she was frustrated with the other person’s behavior. She threatened to shoot.”
Hillary’s worry gathered between her eyebrows and sat in the lines of her face. “Did you hear anything else to indicate she actually had a gun? Loading a chamber or anything like that?”
“No, nothing like that.”
“That’s good,” Hillary said. “She could’ve been bluffing.”
“Are we forgetting something?” Ben interrupted. “I went into that room, and no one was in there. No ruffled blankets or rugs either. It was empty.”
Hillary flipped her notebook shut with an air of irritation. “Well, they could have slipped out when Peyton went downstairs to get you.”
“Don’t you think we would have seen them?” Ben said.
“There are probably a hundred ways in and out of this place that you don’t know about,” Hillary replied. “If I were you, I’d stop doubting your wife and spend that energy on something more productive. For instance, why don’t you consider installing a security system?”
She stood and offered me a hand to help pull me up from the low step. I returned her coat to her, and she slipped her arms through it.
“I’ll stay out front until the sun comes up,” she said. “The cop lights will scare any unwanted visitors away.” She clapped Ben on the shoulder, which made him seem shorter than he actually was. “Get that security system up and running tomorrow, would ya?”
“Will do,” Ben said. “Thanks for coming out.”
“No problem. You two stay safe and have a good night.”
I lay awake in bed until the first hint of sunlight came through my window. Then I went into the entryway and waved goodbye as Hillary pulled out of the driveway. Jim’s crew showed up an hour later to begin work on the terrace at the west side of the house, but Ben was still asleep. I told Jim to do whatever he needed to do, got dressed, and headed into town.
I skipped Black Cat, too antsy to sit still in the café. The caffeine definitely wasn’t going to help calm my nerves. As I walked up the main street, I wasn’t sure what I was doing or looking for. I’d been to all the shops and eaten at all the restaurants. I’d mingled with the locals here and there. Without my regular routine, all that was left was a jittery feeling in my bones and a weird lump that surfaced in the back of my throat every time I thought of that cold hand in mine. It really had felt like a small child had walked up beside me and grasped my hand. I replayed the moment over and over in my head, trying to think of something—anything—to attribute that feeling to. But an imaginary draft sweeping through the second-floor corridor didn’t have the same effect against your skin as flesh and bone.
Without a conscious plan, I ended up at Chester’s photography store. I went through a stack of old photographs he had on the counter, looking at the subjects but not entirely seeing them. When the bell over the door jingled, I didn’t register that someone new had come into the shop until Della showed up at my side. I jumped, scattering Chester’s pictures across the floor.
“Oh, goodness,” Della said, stooping to help me collect the photographs. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you heard me come in.”
“I’m a little out of it today.” I did my best to stack Chester’s pictures in a neat pile then placed them where I’d found them on the counter. “How are you, Della? It’s been a few days since we last saw each other.”
“I’m well,” she said. “But I’m finally biting the bullet.”
With her, she carried the black case full of her old photography materials. She stroked the case with loving sincerity.
“Basil put his foot down?” I guessed.
“We don’t have room for it,” Della said mournfully. “As much as I like simple living, you sometimes have to make sacrifices. The Airstream just doesn’t have the storage space for things like this.”
“Tell you what,” I said, helping her lift the case onto the counter so she didn’t have to hold it any longer. “If you don’t want to sell to Chester just yet, why don’t you leave your things at my house? Believe me, we have plenty of space.”
Della’s eyes sparkled with glee. “Are you sure? I don’t want to inconvenience you or your husband.”
“It’s seriously no trouble at all,” I told her. “Bring it by whenever you like.”
Della surprised me with a quick hug. She smelled like the bath bomb I’d used last night: lavender and eucalyptus. Her earthy vibe was the best antidote to my nerves so far. Something about Della was inherently calming. It was almost as if I was meant to run into her today.
“You are so lovely,” she said.
For some unearthly reason, I started crying. Maybe I was so physically exhausted and mentally worn out from last night’s escapades that I couldn’t hold it in anymore, but all of a su
dden, I was sobbing in the middle of Chester’s store. Della cradled my head against her shoulder and let me get it all out.
“Oh, honey,” she said. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
I was so glad she hadn’t asked me what was wrong. It was a question that became increasingly hard to answer. These days, everything felt wrong, and it was a matter of wading through all the wrongness to finally find something that felt right.
“Will you help me get back into photography?” I sniffled.
“Sure! Do you need a camera? I have loads.”
“I found an old SLR at the house,” I told her as I drew away. “I’ve been wanting to see what it’s got left in it.”
She cupped my cheek and wiped a tear from beneath my eye. “Let’s go have a look then.”
“Right now?”
“Desperate times. Chester!” she shouted.
Chester emerged from his developing room wearing bulbous glasses that magnified his eyes to twice their normal size. “Hey, Della. Finally giving in to me? I’m dying for a look at your collection.”
“You know what’s in my collection,” she replied, smirking. “But I’m not selling today. In fact, I’m buying. Get me a few fresh rolls of film.”
“You got it.”
“Make sure it’s enough for both me and Peyton,” Della said, pulling me closer. “We’re going to go out and shoot some of the local wildlife.”
“You don’t have to do that,” I assured Della. “I can buy my own film.”
“Nonsense,” Della said. “You’re doing me a huge favor by storing my things for me. The least I can do is buy you a few rolls of film.”
Chester put a few boxes of film on the counter and rang Della up. She paid with the wallet stored on her phone. The background was a picture of her husband covered in dirt with a cheesy grin on his face and a handful of fresh herbs yanked straight from the ground.
“About that local wildlife,” I said to Della. “I should probably mention I’m not much of an outdoorswoman. Ben was always the one who wanted to go camping and live off the land. He bought me a pair of hiking boots, but—”
“That’s all you need,” Della told me as she nodded her thanks to Chester. “I promise we won’t get into any terrain that’s too tough. As a matter of fact, there are a couple of great trails right by the Abram Mansion. Want to check it out since we have to go get your camera anyway?”
There was no persuading Della to take pictures around town. She had her heart dead set on climbing the hills behind the mansion. When we got back to the house, Della stared open-mouthed through the windshield. Jim’s crew was busy hammering away at the terrace, but the construction work didn’t impede the effect of the enormity of the house had on Della.
“It’s been a while since I’ve gotten this close to it,” Della said. “I used to come take pictures here.”
I put the car in park. “Why did you stop?”
“Basil asked me to.” She rolled her eyes, but it was accompanied by a wry smile. She wasn’t annoyed by her husband’s request. Rather, she found it endearing. “He had a good reason. I stepped through some rotted wood on the second floor of the west wing and almost tore my leg off. The place is a bit of a death trap.”
“Don’t I know it,” I muttered, slamming the car door.
Della shielded her eyes and peered up at the house. “It’s bigger than I remember. How are the renovations going?”
“Quick and dirty.” I beckoned her to follow me inside, and we went up the stone steps in the front. “Ben wants to do as much as possible in the time that we’re here.”
She squinted at Jim’s crew, hard at work on the terrace, before we went inside. “Must be putting a lot of money into this. Is that what you wanted?”
“It’s Ben’s money,” I told her. “I’m unemployed. He can do whatever he wants with his earnings.”
Della cast an admiring eye around the newly-renovated foyer. “It’s certainly paid off. This looks almost as good as new. You could start hosting parties here any day now.”
I snorted. “I don’t think we’re ever going to live up to the Abrams’ popularity. Ben’s not the type of guy to host extravagant galas. Besides, we’re only here temporarily.”
Della continued to inspect the new work as she followed me to my bedroom. “Did you ever find any more information about your grandfather?”
“No, but to be honest, I haven’t looked.” I rooted around in my new dresser, pushing aside layers of winter clothes. I had buried the camera at the bottom of the drawer, wrapped in old T-shirts to keep it safe. “I’ve had a pretty good routine going here, and it sort of slipped my mind.”
“Yes, I’ve seen you around with Theo and Sammy.” Della gazed around my room with her hands behind her back, almost as a show of respect for my territory. “How are the Bakers doing these days? Is Sammy still giving his mother a heart attack every thirty seconds?”
“Actually, he’s been pretty well-behaved lately,” I said. “Theo keeps him on a short leash. I think that’s why he used to run away, but since we’ve been spending time together, he’s too busy playing to run away. Here you go.”
I handed the camera to Della. She took it with extreme care, turning it over to inspect it with a religious-like reverence.
“It’s in great shape,” she said. “You found it in the attic?”
“Just sitting up there,” I told her. “I guess it’s been there since the fifties.”
“There’s a roll of film in here.” With practiced ease, she wound the film back into the canister then flipped open the back of the camera to take it out. “A little dusty. Wanna put that somewhere safe? I bet there are some cool pictures on it.”
After placing the used film back in the drawer, Della urged me to find my hiking boots. Reluctantly, I laced them up then found a warmer coat. If we were heading uphill, it was going to get cold pretty fast.
“Where’s Ben today?” Della asked as we made our way back outside.
“He’s around somewhere,” I told her, looping the strap of my camera over my shoulder. Della had chosen to bring her favorite DSLR with her upon the promise that we could trade off with every other roll of film I used in the old Canon. “He usually splits his time between pretending he’s a contractor to boss Jim around and actually doing his real job.”
Della chuckled lightly. “Men like to feel as if they’re in control. It’s best to let them play on their own. Are you ready for this?”
I looked into the thick trees beyond the house. “Are you sure there’s a trail back there?”
“Positive,” she promised, starting toward the woods. “Don’t worry. It’s not as scary as it looks.”
It took about half an hour for me to finally believe Della’s promise. As the trees swallowed the sounds of construction at the mansion, a hush fell over the woods. The gray trees whispered to one another, swaying in the light breeze. The snow wasn’t too thick on the ground in most places, so our boots and pants weren’t immediately soaked through. The air was a little harsh on my nose, but Della lent me a tube of Aquaphor to fix that. After a few trips here and there, I started to get the hang of walking across the uneven terrain. Della took pictures at every turn, clicking so madly with her camera that I finally asked her what she was photographing.
“Have a look,” she said, handing me her camera.
I browsed through the pictures she’d just taken, shocked to find some truly astonishing shots of things I never would have thought to photograph. She framed shot after shot of weirdly-angled branches, wispy leftover spider webs, emptied bird nests, and one orange leaf that had miraculously survived the frost.
“Wow, you’re amazing at this,” I said, returning her camera. “No wonder my business failed. I could never do something like this.”
“Don’t sell yourself short,” Della said. “I’ve been doing this for almost fifty years, and you never wanted to focus on nature anyway. Besides, if your business was shooting weddings, I’m not surprised it
didn’t do well. Everyone hates weddings.”
“They were awful.”
Della grinned, letting her camera hang loose around her neck as she placed mine in my hands. “Here, let me give you some pointers. Take a look through the viewfinder.”
I lifted the camera to my eye and peered through.
“Don’t think about it,” Della said. “Just focus on something and take a picture. It doesn’t have to be mind-blowing. It just has to look interesting to you.”
I lifted the camera up, staring into the sky through the viewfinder. Beyond the trees, the sky was a smooth blanket of white clouds, as if someone had laid a cotton bedspread over top of the world. I snapped a picture right as a black bird flew into the center of frame.
“Not bad,” Della said when I lowered the camera. “Why did you photograph the sky?”
“I love when it’s like that,” I told her. “All white. When I was a kid, I always knew it was about to snow because the sky looked like that. Snow days were my favorite.”
“Every kid’s favorite, I’d imagine.”
“For me, it was different,” I told her. “I struggled in school for a long time. I didn’t like it. I begged my mom to homeschool me.”
“I take it she didn’t go for it.”
I shook my head. “My mom’s always been a bit of a loose cannon. She raised me on her own. Actually, Theo reminds me a lot of my mother, except Theo doesn’t carry around a flask.”
Della stomped her boots to keep the blood moving in her feet. “Did school ever get better for you?”
“When I started taking pictures,” I said. “And then I met Ben, and I couldn’t wait to go to school.”
“Ah, young love.”
“Naive love,” I corrected. “What happens when you grow out of people?”
“You move on,” Della replied lightly. If she caught on to the nature of my question, she didn’t pry. “Both Basil and I were divorced from previous partners when we met.”
“Really?” I said. “That gives me hope.”
The Haunting of Abram Mansion Page 10