Harkham's Choice (Harkham's Series Book 2)

by Chanse Lowell

  He massaged her shoulders whenever they were standing around doing nothing.

  His dad got the rental car, and Mari gave him directions on where to go in a monotone voice.

  Adam’s eyes were on her the entire time. Was she okay? Did she wish he’d stayed behind so she could see Victor and her old friends alone?

  His gut twisted so hard, he finally blurted, “Do you not want us here?”

  She looked at him and blinked, took his hand and said, “No, I’m glad you’re all here. I just hate this place. I’ve never been happy here, and it’s hard to be back, especially after the way things ended last time.”

  Mari had already told his dad and Zach what happened on her last visit and how her dad had pulled a gun on her for touching his stuff and trying to get rid of some of it.

  The car went really silent after her brief explanation of why she was acting so distant from all of them.

  He wanted happy, Christmas-time, I-love-sharing-presents Mari back. This girl was ringed under the eyes with sadness and dark feelings.

  Adam snuggled in a little closer to her so she’d know it would be all right. There was nothing to worry about. Adam would take care of her—keep her safe and happy.

  His dad drove them to the house. It was the middle of the day, so every flaw was easy to see. Nails poked out of boards along the stairs leading up to the house. There was mismatched paint on two of the shutters—one a mint green, the other more like an aqua kind of color. Portions of the porch ceiling were sagging in various areas and had water spots with peeling paint hanging like Spanish moss all over the place. Every window was dingy and covered with webs and grime.

  It was hard to believe Mari’s dad lived here on a daily basis.

  Adam blew out. “No wonder he didn’t want to leave.” Who would want to see all this when they stepped outside their front door?

  “Yeah—it’s a regular babe magnet. Great place,” Mari deadpanned. “Definitely worth salvaging.”

  “Hey, now . . .” his father said. “It’s going to be okay. No complaining. We’ll get through this just fine. And you might find plenty of items worth keeping.”

  Mari tensed up at Adam’s side. He grabbed her hand and stroked her arm with his other hand.

  She didn’t move, so he simply stood there and took in the rest of his surroundings.

  The bushes around the walkway were overgrown and scraggly with dead branches poking up in random places. The walkway had cracks all over it with weeds packed between them. The place smelled old and musty even from this distance.

  Neglect was a powerful word, but it certainly worked in describing this house.

  The only thing that looked well taken care of was his converted-over police cruiser.

  They all stood at the foot of the porch, staring at the house with their mouths agape.

  The house was bigger than he remembered. How on earth would they get through all of the contents in this place in three days’ time? That’s all they had—three teeny, tiny days.

  “This is gonna be hard,” Adam said.

  “Impossible is more like it.” Zach stared inside a window with boxes and junk leaning up against the pane.

  “Not impossible. Just challenging,” his dad said, wearing a forced smile.

  They all looked at him like he was nuts.

  “Here goes . . .” Mari pulled out the keys, dragged her feet up the steps and unlocked the door.

  “Should I get a helmet for you?” Zach teased.

  “Well, how about you go in first, seeing as how you have such a thick skull?” she teased Zach back.

  “That sounds like a good idea,” their dad replied for Zach.

  Zach rolled his eyes and stepped up behind Mari.

  “You don’t have to. I’m only joking,” she told him. “Vic’s going to meet me here in an hour. He’s seen it before. We can always just go back to the hotel, and then Vic and I can start on the front room so when you guys arrive, it won’t be so disgusting.”

  “I’ve seen it already, too,” Adam reminded her.

  She smiled, but it was watery and tight-lipped.

  “I’ll go first,” Adam volunteered.

  She took a breath and held it. He joined her at her side.

  She pulled the door wide open and stood at the threshold, taking it all in, her head sweeping slowly from side to side.

  “Jeez . . . It’s worse than when I left. I swear I was constantly tidying up when I was here,” she said, her shoulders slumped forward.

  “I know you did. We all believe you,” Adam said.

  His dad moved up the steps and waited behind her, next to Zach.

  “Maybe he was trying to find something?” his father offered. “It looks like he was rummaging through some of these boxes.”

  “Most likely he was trying to determine if I’d stolen anything. Or worse—thrown out some of his junk when he wasn’t looking.” Her shoulders wrapped up around her ears. “I did. All the time. Any chance I got—I was tossing out stuff. I knew he wouldn’t really know if anything was missing, but I guess I was wrong. Looks like maybe he went into an obsessive search for something . . .” Her eyes welled up.

  “How did you live with him like this?” Zach asked her over her shoulder.

  “I didn’t. Like I said, I was disrespectful of him. I threw his crap out, and he got pissed. I refused to sleep with boxes and clutter all around me.” She rested a hand on the doorjamb and her head fell forward, her shoulders hunched as she stared at her feet. “I knew this was a mental illness for him, but I didn’t care. I had no sympathy for him. Not really.” She sighed. “I never had friends over. He wouldn’t allow it. I resented that I couldn’t do teenager things like sleepovers or movie nights in my living room.” She glanced up at Adam, then her eyes cast back down to the ground. “Not like I would’ve done any of that anyway—I was too embarrassed. I mean, I hated being here myself, so why would I want to share this horrendous mess with anyone else? I didn’t want anyone to know I lived in this trash heap. Any excuse I could find to be out of the house, I used. The minute my summer was up with him, each time I ran out the door to get back home to Mom. I couldn’t leave fast enough, even though living with her was usually less than pleasant as well. But at least I wasn’t surrounded by a landfill and a man rotting away in his favorite chair with his permanent butt groove that fit him like a glove.”

  “Come on . . . Let’s go inside and start formulating a plan on how to handle all of this,” his dad suggested. “No need to relive past memories that are upsetting to you.” He gave her an empathic smile and patted the back of her right shoulder.

  “You’re right.” She stepped inside but only past the door. Once they all moved past her, she shut it.

  “Sorry if it smells. I managed to get it presentable last time I was here, but . . . Who knows when the trash went out again after I left,” she said, shrugging, but it was a tired-looking attempt.

  “It’s fine,” Zach commented softly, looking in shock as he continued to survey the place and all its contents.

  Had her dad acted out to spite her by making sure to be twice as filthy in his place once she returned to her mother?

  “It’s not fine,” Adam said. “I can tell it bothers her. I think the first thing we’ll need to do is remove the piles around the windows so we can open them and have good ventilation and air flow through here as we work.”

  “Definitely.” Zach nodded with his hands on his hips. He wore a determined expression.

  “Are the big trash bins here?” Mari asked.

  “I received confirmation they’re in the back of the house. Why don’t we take a tour—see what we’re up against, and after Victor arrives and then leaves, we can get started,” his dad said.

  Adam was so proud of how steady his dad was being. His influence was calming. It was good to know an authority figure would take charge and keep things moving in a positive direction.

  “Thank you, Dad,” Adam said, smiling at him. “I like hav
ing you here with us. Doctors are organized, but you’re better than that. You’re our happy coach, cheering us on and even helping out. That’s great to see.”

  His father’s eyes lit up, and he broke out in a proud grin. “You’re very welcome.” His eyes moved between Adam and Mari. “Both of you. I always want to be involved and help anytime you need it.”

  Adam released a breath, and Mari held hers.

  “I mean it, young lady. Don’t you ever think I don’t care about you and what you’re going through. You share your troubles with me, and I’ll try to be there for you. Provide guidance if you need it, but mostly support and encouragement. You’ve had a rough life, but that doesn’t mean you’re not bright and full of potential. Adam sees all of that—and so do I.”

  “Fucking A,” Zach said.

  They all burst out laughing.

  “Okay, not quite how I would put it, Son,” his dad said. “Watch the language, huh?”

  “Hell, yeah, I can do that,” Zach teased.

  Adam picked up a sock, balled it up and tossed it at Zach’s head.

  Zach got hit in the ear and cackled as he threw it back.

  “See? We can have fun as a family as we work together. It’s all good.” His dad smiled at them.

  Adam noticed that Mari finally started breathing normally again and her back loosened up.

  “Definitely!” Adam wandered deeper into the room. “We’ve got this.”

  “I hope so,” Mari told them. She paused, running her hand across the top of a box that clearly had gotten wet at some point because it was all puckered up on the right side. “Actually, why don’t you guys go check in at the hotel? I can stay here and deal with Vic. You can change into clothes you’re okay to get filthy in, rest for an hour, and then come back. He’s going to be upset with me about cremating my dad. This will give him some time to vent and settle down.” She looked ready to fall over with fatigue.

  “I’m not leaving you alone with him. He’s not going to say mean things to you, either. I’ll stay with you,” Adam said, moving to her side, afraid they might try to get him to leave with them.

  “Okay,” his dad said, looking at Mari with a worried glance. He gave them both a hug, then he and Zach left.

  She took a few hesitant steps toward Adam. “You know, it’s funny . . . For so many years now I was dying to clean out this house from top to bottom. And now when I’m faced with it, the idea of this task is . . .” She clenched her jaw and screamed through her teeth while her fists pounded into her thighs. “Why? Why did he care about all this”—she pointed around the room at random items—“more than me? Why was this shit his world and I was nothing to him? Why did he spend money on junk and call it treasure? Why wasn’t I what he cherished most?”

  “He was sick. It’s a disease he couldn’t control. And he disliked himself. People that don’t like themselves can’t like anyone else. It’s like a poison that spreads through them. It’s not your fault, Mari. You’re very easy to love. He was broken, and this was his medicine.” He shoved a box away from his foot filled with yarn that looked like it had all been sun-bleached over a long period of time. He stepped closer to her.

  “I know he was ill, but he didn’t even want to get better. Wasn’t I worth it for him to seek help?” She kicked a box on the opposite side of her, and walnuts, paper-clips and a shiny silver nut cracker in the shape of a squirrel came tumbling out as the box split on contact. “Now we’ve gotta deal with this—his solution to burying his problems and self-medicating. Clearly—his form of dealing with his problems was a great solution.” She snorted.

  “He was a good man. When I talked to him, I could tell he was just really a mountain of sadness and regret. Older people sometimes like to reminisce. It makes them feel better. Maybe this was like living in the past for him. Maybe each of these objects had some tie to your mom and you when you were little—when you were all together.” He tipped his chin up. “I know if it was me, if I lost you—I’d constantly want to surround myself with anything at all that reminded me of you and how at one point I had it so good.”

  “I don’t know.” Her shoulders bounced for a second.

  “You don’t have to know. It’s not important.” He took two giant steps, careful not to trip on the nuts, and wrapped her up in a hug. When she sagged into him, he took her hand dangling at her side and kissed the back of it.

  “What if before we start cleaning here, we go visit the cremation garden where his ashes are?” He kissed her forehead and pushed her hair back over her shoulders on both sides. “It might help if we remember this is all being done for someone you love, and not because we have to and it’s a chore. But for love. That’s why we’re here.”

  “Yeah—love,” she said, devoid of emotion.

  “Yep. Lots of gooey love, overflowing so much it’s falling out of boxes.” His voice was light and kind of fluffy.

  “I can’t really do that right now.” She sniffed and glued her cheek to his chest as he continued to hold her. “I’d rather go later. Maybe after dinner. I’ll need a break from this place by then, and visiting him at that point will help me remember why I’m doing this instead of walking away. That’s when I’ll need it most. It’ll help me retain my sanity.”

  “Hey. That’s my job.”

  She chuckled. That was a nice sound.

  “You don’t have a job. You’re just amazing—that’s all.” She sniffed again.

  “I’m only amazing because I’m with you, sweetheart. And that’s the truth.” Another kiss of his landed on her head.

  She took a deep, shaky breath and went a little more lax, then pushed away. “Okay—I can do this. I can . . . You’re here with me. My dad’s not going to be here, bursting into tears looking at me like I’m the devil here to take his soul.”

  “Nope. He won’t. I’m the only devil here.” His hands slipped down and he squeezed her ass cheeks.

  “Angel, you mean.”

  “Not with the things I want to do—no. Not a single angelic thought going through my head right now.”

  She chuckled. “If it didn’t smell like horse piss in here, then I’d be all over this idea of stripping down and exploring those thoughts of yours.”

  He wrinkled his nose. “Ewww!”

  “Exactly.” She chuckled for a second, then wandered toward the kitchen.

  He followed, and eventually they wound up ambling around the place, taking in all the spaces, or lack thereof.

  Their final stop was to sit at the dinner table that was oddly still cleared. It looked like her dad hadn’t touched it since she’d cleaned it off.

  Adam knew it all along. This place was this way because in her father’s head, he was preserving the memories in his mind and trying to recreate them somehow. If he didn’t love his daughter, why leave the table clear where they’d shared a meal together? Why not treat it like a place to spread his junk over?

  He was about to say as much, but she grunted, propped her elbows up and rested her forehead in her hands.

  “This is gonna take a lot of w—” She stopped, and her head pricked up.

  Rap, rap, rap, rap . . .

  “Oh, Gaaaawd—so not in the mood to deal with Vic right now,” she said, slumping lower in her seat.

  “Open the door, girl,” Vic hollered. “I’ve got what you need.”

  “What the fuck did he say?” Adam sat up straighter, his legs swiveling in the chair as if he was ready to charge the door and the idiot behind it.

  “He doesn’t mean it.” She reached over and patted Adam’s hand.

  “Then he shouldn’t say it.”

  “I agree.”

  “C’mon, girlie! Let me know you’re naked so I can come inside already,” Vic said even louder than his original greeting.

  “He’s making me want to do really illegal, vicious things,” Adam told her between his teeth.

  “The feeling’s mutual. He does that to me frequently.” She sighed. “He’s fine, though. He’s only tea
sing. Think of him as a ruder version of Zach.”

  Adam shook his head. “That would mean I actually have to care about this guy.”

  She sat up in her seat. “Well, he’s a temporary pain in the ass, then. Can you think of him that way?”

  “How about I don’t think of him at all? That would suit me best.” His heart thudded so hard, it was almost shaking his belly. The back of his neck felt like it was burning up.

  “Ignore him. It’s what I do half the time.”

  “I’m about to piss on your front door,” Vic told her, laughing.

  “It’s all gonna be fine,” she said, sounding like his father and giving Adam a similar parental look.

  “Not for him it won’t, if he keeps acting like this,” he told himself as she got up to answer the door.

  Chapter 12

  Mari heard a dog yip, and she almost tripped on the way to answer the door.

  Adam made a groaning sound behind her from the kitchen. Vic truly was upsetting to Adam.

  She hated that it bothered him, but they needed his help. The more hands they had to remove all this junk, the better off they’d be, since they were already going to be pressed for time. It was going to be interesting trying to keep these two guys from being at each other’s throats.

  She looked at Adam over her shoulder, and he appeared so miserable she decided Vic wasn’t worth it.

  Besides, Vic didn’t deserve her going out of her way to be kind and accommodating. He’d already yelled at her on the phone more than once over her choice to cremate her father.

  She went back to Adam’s side and leaned into him, drifting her fingers through his hair.

  “Come on in,” she hollered loud enough that Vic should be able to hear her.

  “Mari, hey,” Vic said, letting himself in the front door. “You here? Naked yet?”

  “Hardly. And I’m in the kitchen,” she said, keeping her voice even.

  “Oh God, no. Please don’t tell me you’ve cooked me another healthy meal? Once was enough. I barely made it out alive last time. My stomach hated me the entire next day. Just please—no salad.” Vic laughed. “Even if you are tossing it together in the buff.”