As she drove out of the parking lot, she stole a glance at the building through the rearview mirror. She let out a cry as a tremor ran through her, for there—standing by the garbage can where she’d just been—was Dan.
She punched the accelerator, not daring to look back.
3
Chapter 3
The next morning dawned clear and sunny, making the incident from the night before seem far removed—a distant memory rather than something that happened the night before. The open road ahead was encouraging, and she felt her mood lifting as she concentrated on the landscape that was growing more rugged by the mile. The sky felt large and open above her, whispering of limitless possibilities. A little while later, she realized that she was singing her and Dan’s favorite song, I’ll Be Right Here Waiting For You, along with the radio. The song had once been a hopeful promise between them, but now, the lyrics felt ominous, as if a weight were fastened around her neck. Events from the night before rushed back as a quiet panic overtook her. Was Dan beckoning her to join him in the grave? She pushed away the morbid thought and hit the dial to silence the song, but then she realized that the radio was already off. A shudder went through her as she tightened her hands on the steering wheel. She glanced at her reflection in the rearview mirror. A pale face, marked with large brown eyes that looked like mud puddles of fear with dark hair billowing down the sides. The person staring back at her was a stranger. She had to get a grip or she would end up in the nut house! She turned on the radio and forced herself to get lost in the music. Then, she spied a McDonald’s up ahead. Being around other people would help restore a sense of normalcy. She stopped and got a soda for herself and water for Beasty. A few minutes later, she was on the road again, feeling better about things.
She arrived in Salt Lake just as the sun was setting, turning the sky a fiery orange and blue swirl. The snow-capped mountains to the left of the interstate were standing jagged and tall against the clear, blue sky. They were much taller than the rolling mountains in the South but not nearly as green, but they were substantial and impressive. The mountains to the right were smaller, more like the height of the ones she was used to seeing back home. She’d often heard people refer to Salt Lake as The Valley, and now she knew why. Everything was built between the two mountain ranges, and it struck her that she could almost see across the entire valley. The lack of trees was unsettling, and she felt exposed as she drove through the open space. As she passed downtown, she caught sight of the spirals from the Temple, surrounded by high-rise buildings, but she could only glance because she had to keep her focus on the road. It was intimidating to drive on a crowded interstate with multiple lanes of traffic and cars haphazardly weaving in and out. Thankfully, her GPS led her straight to her destination, and she was relieved when she turned onto the street of a quaint neighborhood that had a few larger trees. The houses had a historical feel that reminded her of home. She pulled up to a particular house and double-checked the address. “This is our new home, Beasty,” she said with a sigh.
The house was a cross between a craftsman style and Tudor, probably built in the late thirties or forties. Like most of the houses on the street, the siding was made from brown brick that looked aged. The white trim around the windows and doors was coming off in large flakes, a telltale sign that someone had painted latex over oil. Wide steps led up to the front porch, and there was an old rocker situated at one end that someone had started painting dark green and abandoned halfway through the project. The landscaping consisted of a few spindly bushes that looked like they were in desperate need of water, and the yard had patches of brown. The overall feel of the place was neglect—a house that had potential if someone would make the effort to bring it out.
She took a deep breath and got out of the car. She could do this. She could do this. She kept repeating the mantra over and over. It was hard to get excited about living with Darbie, especially since her mom had pushed her into it. From the minute her mom brought up the idea of moving to Salt Lake, Chloe had wanted to get a place of her own, but her mom insisted that she live with Darbie to help share the costs. “You don’t even have a job yet, Chloe. Move in with Darbie for a while until you get your feet on the ground,” she’d said. But what she really meant was Move in with Darbie so that she can keep tabs on you. That way we’ll know if you flip your lid for good.
Chloe had only met Darbie twice, and that was two times too many as far as she was concerned. She was around the age of ten when Darbie and her mother, Angela, came for a visit. Talk about a real sour ball! She’d politely asked Darbie to stay away from her favorite stuffed animal, a rabbit she’d had for as long as she could remember, but Darbie ripped off the ear and threw it on the ground before running outside to swing. They met again when they were both in high school when Darbie was going through a Goth stage with her black fingernails that matched her skintight pants and ragged t-shirt. No, Chloe had not been impressed with the tall, lanky redhead that was constantly tucking her curly hair behind her ears to keep it out of her face. She looked at the house. This was going to be interesting. Why had she agreed to this?
She walked up to the front door, rang the doorbell, and waited. Nothing. She looked back at the car, wondering if Beasty were going berserk. He didn’t like being alone. She punched the doorbell again and waited a couple of minutes before knocking. She was trying to decide what to do when the door opened and there stood Darbie with her hands shoved into her pockets.
Chloe forced a smile. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Darbie said.
“It’s nice to see you again.”
“You too.” Her expression was guarded, and it looked like it might break her face to smile. Newsflash! She wasn’t any more excited about this arrangement than Chloe was. What bargaining chip had Darbie’s mother used in order to make her agree to it? At least she wasn’t wearing black—a definite improvement over last time.
An awkward moment passed with them standing there, looking at each other until finally Darbie motioned. “Come on in.”
“Oh, I have to get my cat out of the car.” She paused. “My mother did tell you about Beasty, right?”
“Yeah, but I haven’t mentioned it to the landlord yet.”
Irritation sparked over Chloe. Regardless of whether or not the landlord approved, Beasty was here. She and the cat were a package deal! Darbie could either take them both, or she would have to find another roommate. She started to say as much but bit her tongue. It wouldn’t do to alienate Darbie on the first day. “I’m going to get Beasty and my things. I’ll be right back.”
“Let me put on my shoes, and I’ll help.”
A few minutes later, they had carried everything inside. It took a few seconds for Chloe’s eyes to adjust to the dark room. She looked around, wondering why the blinds were closed. Maybe Darbie was still into Goth. “It sure is dark in here.”
Darbie raked her long auburn bangs out of her face. “Oh, yeah … I was taking a nap when you arrived.” She suppressed a yawn before flipping on the lights.
“Sorry,” Chloe mumbled.
Darbie waved the comment away. “No worries.”
Beasty started meowing loudly.
“He’s tired of being cooped up in the cage,” Chloe explained, moving to open the door, but Darbie beat her to it.
She dropped to her knees beside of the cage. “Beasty, huh?”
Chloe was glad she’d taken the time to stop and clean the cage when she realized she was nearing Salt Lake. Had she not, Beasty would’ve smelled like a cesspool.
Darbie opened the cage door. “Hey, boy. Welcome to your new home. You look just like Garfield.” She patted the floor beside her. “Come on out.”
Beasty gave her a suspicious look before tentatively stepping out, at which point, Darbie scooped him up and held him against her chest. “What a cutie, you are,” she cooed.
Chloe stood there, unsure what to say, while Darbie fawned over the cat. She started to tell her that Beasty didn’t lik
e strangers, but the traitor was purring like a boat engine. When Darbie finally put Beasty down and stood, he curled around her legs, making her laugh. “He’s a keeper! Let’s get your bags, and I’ll show you to your room.” Darbie had not taken her eyes off Beasty. Chloe was beginning to feel like the third wheel.
A few minutes later, they were carrying Chloe’s things into a large bedroom located in the back of the house.
“Okay, now I’ll give you the two-cent tour of the place.”
Chloe was surprised at how small Darbie’s room was compared to hers. “Don’t you want the larger room?”
Darbie looked at her funny.
“I mean, you were here first.”
“Nah, my room’s just fine. I thought you’d like more space.”
“Really? Thanks.” Maybe she’d misjudged Darbie. Living here might not be too bad after all, she decided, and then she saw the kitchen. There were dirty dishes and pans, crusted with food, piled high in the sink. An empty pizza box, crushed soda cans, and empty potato chip bags littered the counter.
“Do you have a dishwasher?” Chloe asked, hoping that Darbie would get the message.
“Yeah, but I haven’t had time to load it. Help yourself.”
Chloe opened her mouth to respond when a knock sounded at the side door off the kitchen. A tall, slim blonde in her late forties was peeking through the glass portal on the door. “Darbie!”
“Great,” Darbie hissed, giving Chloe a shove. “Hurry and put Beasty in your room and close the door so she won’t see him.”
“Why?” Chloe whispered.
“Because it’s Susan Morrison. The landlord. She told my mother she’d have to approve of you before she let you live here. I’ll have to warm her up to the idea of having Beasty. GO!”
Chloe ran into the living room and found Beasty sprawled out on the couch, licking his paws. He wasn’t too happy when she scooped him up and practically threw him into her room and then slammed the door. Chloe returned to the kitchen.
“Darbie, for goodness sakes! It stinks in here!” Susan wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Don’t you ever clean?”
Rather than answering, Darbie cleared her throat. “This is Chloe Kensley. She’s the girl my mother told you about.”
The woman gave Chloe the once-over. “I’m going to tell you exactly what I told Darbie—no boys, no drugs, no loud music, and no drinking.”
“Chloe will be attending church with me,” Darbie said. She shot Chloe a hard look. “Isn’t that right?”
It took a minute for Chloe to find her tongue. “Yes, ma’am, that’s right.” She hoped lightning wouldn’t strike, considering she hadn’t been to church since Dan died.
“You won’t have to worry about her doing any of those things,” Darbie said smoothly.
Susan touched her hair and let out a self-conscious chuckle. “Ma’am? I’m not that old … yet.”
Chloe was at a loss for words. Thankfully, Darbie jumped to the rescue. “She didn’t mean any disrespect. That’s the way all people from the South talk.”
“Oh … okay,” Susan said, sizing Chloe up. “Well, if Darbie says you’re okay, then I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
Chloe felt strangely relieved.
“Why didn’t anyone tell me we had a new neighbor?” a voice boomed. A plump woman with heavy eye makeup stepped into the kitchen.
Chloe stepped back against the wall. Geez, Louise. What was this? Grand Central Station?
The woman looked around. “Aren’t you guys going to introduce me?”
“Lila, this is Chloe. She’s going to be Darbie’s roommate. She just arrived from South Carolina,” the landlady said.
The woman held out her hand and Chloe shook it. It was soft and squishy like a sponge. “Hi, I’m Lila Farnsworth. Nice to meet you, Chloe. You’ll be a welcome addition around here. Darbie needs someone nice to keep her company instead of those law enforcement people she’s always hanging out with.”
Chloe saw Darbie roll her eyes.
Lila gave Chloe an admiring look. “Well, at least you’re not a bag of bones like Darbie. You’re curvy.” She caught hold of Chloe’s arm and squeezed her bicep. “I like you.”
As if she needed anyone to draw attention to the extra pounds she never could seem to lose. “Thanks,” Chloe muttered, her cheeks burning.
Lila turned to Darbie and Susan. “The reason I came over was to invite you to eat a late dinner with me tonight. Pete’s out of town.”
Both women nodded like getting this last minute invitation was everyday business. At that, Lila opened the door and stepped out. She paused and looked back over her shoulder at Chloe. “Well, you’re invited too. Come over in about twenty minutes. I’ll have everything ready by then.” She closed the door.
Chloe looked at Darbie and Susan. “Do I have a choice?”
Susan chuckled. “Not really. You might as well get used to it.”
“Yeah, you never know when Lila’s gonna drop in.” Darbie jutted her thumb over her shoulder. “She lives behind us. Her backyard adjoins ours.”
A look passed between Darbie and Susan.
“Lila’s an interesting character,” Susan added.
Darbie winked at Chloe. “I’ll fill you in on the details later.”
Susan shook her head and laughed. “You do that.” She stepped out the door. “See you both in a few minutes. Darbie, clean up this wreck or I’m raising your rent!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Darbie said, tucking a stray curl behind her ear.
* * *
The body of Lila’s house was stucco that had been painted a mid-toned beige with a creamy white trim that matched the front door. If Chloe had been picking the colors, she would’ve gone more yellow on the body and added an accent to the window casings and front door. Generally, people were afraid of color and hence most houses ended up being painted nondescript shades of pastel chalk.
Lila’s yard was well kept with a variety of shrubs and flowers. The only thing out of the ordinary were the white Christmas lights that were strung over the bushes in the front, and the icicle lights that ran along the overhang on the front porch. Christmas lights in the summer? Strange. Chloe made a mental note to ask Darbie about it.
The house was bright and cheerful inside, thanks to the recessed lighting that was spotted throughout the main living area. The beige walls in the den looked very similar to the outside color, making her think that Lila was a fan of neutrals. The kitchen, done in a butter-beige, was by far the best feature of the home. It reminded Chloe of the color she’d chosen for Mrs. Graham’s house—Da Vinci’s Canvas. A trendy selection of tile covered the floor, and the oyster white counter tops made of granite were the perfect complement to the white cabinets and trendy metal hardware. White plantation shutters covered the large windows. If the room had been Chloe’s project, she would’ve recommended doing valances over the windows to add pops of color and maybe some botanicals and accessories; however, even as it sat, the area was great.
“You have a lovely place,” Chloe said.
“Thanks.”
“Did you do the decorating yourself?”
“Who me? Not hardly. I got Brooks Design Center to help me.”
“Oh, they did a nice job.”
“Well, they should have for what it cost. I thought I was going to have to take out a second mortgage just to redo my kitchen. A good friend of mine, Lucille Wilson, talked me into using them. But word to the wise, keep your checkbook handy! Once you let those greedy designers in your house, it’s all over from there. They’re sharks on the lookout for fresh meat. I don’t see how those people can sleep at night, charging a fortune for every little thing. Look at that print over there on the wall. I paid a fortune for it and then saw one almost just like it at Walmart the other day for a fourth of the price.” Lila went on for another five minutes until Darbie interrupted her.
“Chloe’s an interior designer.”
Lila stopped. “Really?”
“Yes.” Ch
loe could’ve strangled Darbie who was standing there all doe-eyed. Was she trying to get Chloe thrown out of the woman’s house?
“What type of work do you do?” Lila asked.
“Residential mostly.” Chloe took a deep breath and decided to forge ahead. “I’m interviewing for a job at Marsh Interiors on Monday.”
A strange look came over Lila’s face, and she went a little pale. “That’s very interesting,” she finally said. “What do you know about them?”
“Not a lot,” Chloe admitted as a trickle of unease ran down her spine. “Why?”
“Oh, nothing. I was just wondering.” She gave Chloe a strained smile before turning her attention to the dinner she was preparing.
What was wrong with Marsh Interiors? What was Lila not telling her? Her stomach knotted. Her mother had found the advertisement for the job online and insisted that Chloe apply for it. “I have a good feeling about this one,” she said. At first, Chloe was doubtful that anything would come of it, but to appease her mom, she applied. Then, she got a call, requesting her to come for an interview. This job opportunity had been the one bright spot in her sordid life, and now it was being tainted like everything else. She just couldn’t seem to get a break. She felt something and realized that Lila had touched her arm. Unfortunately, Chloe had never been able to mask her feelings. Everything she felt blasted like a neon sign to the world.
“I didn’t mean to upset you. Marsh Interiors does a great business in The Valley, and I’m sure you’ll enjoy working there. My qualm with them has nothing to do with their design services but is more of a personal nature.”
When Darkness Falls Page 3