The House of Wood

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The House of Wood Page 5

by Anthony Price


  “Please.”

  He left her sitting there, while he strolled over to the counter. The café was heaving now. She fondled the business card under the table, at the same time biting her lip. She didn't know what to do. This guy was a professional psychiatrist, but she had seen those before. They hadn't helped, only made things worse. Maybe David was different? Maybe she had finally met someone that could pluck her out of the past?

  David returned with the coffee. “I wasn't sure if you took sugar.”

  “No, it's fine. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  The two of them sat there drinking coffee, time flying past. Rachel felt as though she was in a different world. All her cares and worries felt as though they were from another life; someone else's life that she had read about in a horror novel. She was becoming increasingly intrigued by the man sitting next to her. He was charming, polite and funny. They chatted about everything from the weather to the result of the local High School football game. He didn’t know her. There were no connections to her past with him. She was lost in the velvet softness of his voice.

  “… and that's how I met Nathan.”

  The end of his sentence made her ears prick up. “I’m sorry, how did you meet?”

  There was concern in his face. “Are you alright? You look pale.”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” The dark cloud was beginning to descend on her again. “I just zoned out for a second.”

  “Does that happen often?” David asked.

  Only since I've been back. “No, not at all.”

  There was silence. If she was going to ask, now was the perfect time. She sipped at her coffee. “Doctor -“

  “David.”

  “If it’s still okay,” she asked, her fingers furiously fiddling with the business card. “Could I take you up on that offer of a chat?” Her face turned a deep scarlet. “Whenever you're free.”

  “Of course. If you come down to the office, my secretary will -“

  “I was hoping we could make it...” She paused to think of the right words. “Less formal.”

  “Ah, I see,” David replied. He shifted in his seat and took a large gulp of his coffee.

  Rachel had to think quick. “I know it's not professional for you. It’s just, I've tried the formal thing. It didn't work. I closed off completely. Maybe chatting over a dinner table would help me to open up?” Well done Rachel, she thought. That's the way to be subtle.

  He grinned. “I’m sure that'll be fine. I hear Costello's over on Lonergran is very nice. Would that be okay?”

  She could feel her heart racing. “That would be lovely.”

  “I finish my shift tonight at the hospital around eight. I could stop by your room at nine?”

  Was this moving too fast? She wondered. She'd hoped for a couple more days. Butterflies were going crazy in her stomach. His steel blue eyes fixed right on her. If she didn't take the chance now, she never would. “That’ll be great.”

  “Good. Nine it is then.”

  They sat there for another half an hour, finishing their coffees. David looked at his watch. “Well, I best be getting back. I'll see you tonight at nine o'clock.”

  “Okay.”

  “Bye.”

  As the door of the cafe closed behind him, Rachel slumped in her chair. Relieved. She had no idea what had come over her. She would never have asked out a guy she didn't know before. Now she was nervous.

  She looked out of the window. The sunshine had hidden behind some clouds. The air felt stormy. She peered across the street. A single blackbird was perched on top of the box office at the cinema. She rubbed at her eyes. Was it looking at her? Don't be silly, she thought, it's just the nerves.

  She shut down her laptop, packed it away and gulped the last dregs of her coffee. When she turned to pick up her bag, she noticed the bird had gone.

  Chapter Six

  Nathan had been driving around town aimlessly in the car for two hours since leaving the café. As usual the town was quiet; dispatch hadn’t sent out any emergency calls all day. Under any other circumstances, it would have been a blessing. But not today. The last thing he needed was time to think. His mind had been spinning like the wheels beneath him, bringing him back to the same conclusion over and over. It was happening again. For the second time in his life, Rachel was choosing somebody else over him. How could it be? He thought. Was he that unlucky? Of all the people in the town she could have chosen, she had to choose him. David was bad news. Deep down inside him Nathan knew it. He just couldn’t work out why. Well, he was damn sure he was going to find out.

  The traffic lights above him turned red. The squad car ground to a halt. He licked the sweat off of his top lip, trying to keep his eyes fixed on the road. He knew it was there; the place that had caused all his recent problems. There was that familiar knawing sensation at the back of his brain. It wouldn’t hurt to go in for one, he thought, resisting the urge to turn his head in the direction of his nemesis. He knew if he saw it, the day would be over. He would sink himself in to that black pit, which was getting harder and harder to climb out of. And there wasn’t time for that. If he was going to stop the past repeating itself, then he had to stay on track. His own peace of mind depended on it.

  The light turned green and Nathan set off, letting out a small sigh of relief. He had managed to resist it, but promised the demon inside him that he would return later. At an appropriate time. If there ever was such a thing.

  He spent the next thirty minutes parked outside the café. He needed answers, but didn’t know where to look for them. If only he could find something, a bit of dirt, something to pin on the doctor, then he could show it to Rachel and she would know the truth. He owed it to her. If he hadn’t let her go the last time a new guy came in to her life. If he had been more forceful, instead of walking away. Life may have turned out different. All he had ever wanted was for her to look at him the way he looked at her. He had to find something. But where?

  The squad car revved in to life, as Nathan turned the key. A thought had struck him. He had no idea where it came from. But it was better than nothing. He reached over and picked up the radio microphone.

  “Dispatch, this is Deputy Ross, do you copy?”

  This is dispatch.

  “Hey Connie, I need you to do me a favour. Can you look up any files on the Langrishe case? It’ll be in the archive.”

  Nate, I don’t have access.

  “Like that’s ever stopped you before. Please Connie. I’ll buy you dinner.”

  Always the charmer. I’ll see what I can do.

  “Thanks Connie, I owe you. I need you to look up family records, see if there’s any connection to a Doctor David Cochrane. I’m also going to need to know who owns the old farm house. You know the one, just outside town.”

  Why do you need to know all that?

  “Just a hunch.”

  Okay, I’ll see what I can do.

  “Oh, one other thing. Let’s just keep this between me and you for now. It’d be best if the Sheriff didn’t know anything about it.”

  If you say so.

  “You’re a star. Talk to you later.”

  Nathan put the microphone back on its hook. If he wanted answers, then where better to start than the beginning.

  ***

  It didn’t take him long to reach his destination. The house stood tall in front of him, as he stepped out of the squad car. He had never liked the place. There was something about it; an oppressive feeling that filled him with dread. He imagined it was similar to the feeling of staring down a predator. An involuntary spasm crept down his spine. At least it wasn’t as bad as it used to be. Somebody was making a real effort to return the building to its former glory.

  He had no idea why he had come. It was as if the idea had popped out of nowhere, smashing through his skull like a sledge hammer. As far as he knew, David had no connection to the place. When the shit hit the fan three years ago, David had probably never even heard of Willows
Peak, let alone having anything to do with the house. But there was something. An air of mystery to the guy that Nathan just couldn’t let go of. He had swept in to town and convinced everyone that he was this mild mannered psychiatrist trying to help the poor folk. Well I’m not fooled, Nathan thought. Like the house being all bright and shiny, it was all fake.

  A crowing blackbird caught his attention, as it swooped overhead and landed on the porch roof. Its black eyes looked right through him. The answers were here. He knew it. It was just a case of finding them.

  He walked up the wooden steps towards the front door, surprised to see there wasn’t any workmen around. By all accounts, Jonathon Kane and his boys had been up here, every day for the past two weeks doing the place up. So somebody definitely owned it. If he could get inside, then maybe he could find out who? But there was no way a judge would grant a search warrant without due cause. And there was no doubt in his mind that he would be lucky enough for the door to be unlocked.

  Reaching out, he turned the cold knob. It was shut firm. He quickly looked over his shoulder and took out his pick lock. There was nobody around. Within a few minutes the door was gaping wide open. He took one more look around, then stepped over the threshold.

  The smell of fresh paint hit him full in the face. The workmen obviously hadn’t left that long ago. They were no doubt on a lunch break. Nathan realised he would have to be quick in case they came back from wherever they had gone.

  The workmen were doing a good job on the place. The old dank and dreary décor had been replaced with pastel paints and brand new furniture. There was no mistaking it for what it was; a country farmhouse. But now it had a hint of modernisation. He could still see that it wasn’t quite finished. The new gas pipes running through the living room hadn’t been boxed in yet and the table surfaces were still covered with dust sheets to avoid paint drips ruining them. Apart from that, it was all but finished.

  He didn’t want to waste too much time admiring the decorating. He quickly got himself together and started searching the house. First he swept through the living room and then the adjacent kitchen diner. He had no idea what he was looking for. If he could find any shred of evidence to connect David to the house, then he would have him, hook line and sinker. All it would take was a picture, any kind of documentation. But there was nothing downstairs. Whoever owned the place hadn’t moved any of their personal belongings in yet.

  Nathan decided it might be upstairs. He was about to take a look, when the sound of crunching gravel made his ears prick up. Shit, he thought. The workmen must be back. There was no way he could get out of the house undetected; they would have already seen his squad car, sitting there in the drive way. Why had he been dumb enough to park in front of the house? He fumed. Why had he bothered to come up here in the first place? He’d been clutching at straws. David had absolutely no connection to the house whatsoever. It was stupid to have hoped otherwise.

  He ran back to the front door and closed it behind him, hoping that he looked natural. The workmen might have done him a favour.

  “Hey there deputy, can I help you?” Jonathon called over, as he jumped out of his pick-up.

  “Hi Mr Kane. I was just checking up on the place. We had a call about an hour ago, saying there was some trouble up here.”

  “Oh, what kind of trouble? I was in town, picking up some supplies. How did you get in? I made sure the front door was locked when I left.”

  Nathan looked around, as casually as he could. He spotted the broken upstairs window. “It was a call about some kids throwing stones and damaging the property. They must’ve broken in because the door was unlocked. I was just checking to see if there had been any damage inside.”

  “And?”

  “It’s fine, there doesn’t seem to be anything a miss.”

  Jonathon scratched his chin. “I wonder who made the call. It wasn’t any of my boys, they’re off today. I’m just up here doing a few bits and pieces. It’s not like anybody else would have been walking past. You know what people round here are like, they avoid this place like the plague.”

  “I know what you mean,” Nathan replied. “After everything that’s happened, you wouldn’t think somebody would want to re-build the place, let alone live in it.”

  “Damn straight. It gives me the creeps just having to work here.”

  This was it. His chance to find answers.

  “Just out of interest Jonathon, who does own this place now?”

  “Damned if I know.”

  “So you don’t know who you’re working for?”

  “Nope. Everything’s being done through a law firm representing the owner. It’s all very mysterious if you ask me.”

  Damn it, Nathan thought. Why wasn’t anything going right for him? The house was probably owned by some businessman who wants to do it up and sell it on for a profit. David probably couldn’t even afford a place like this. It had all been for nothing. He was going to lose Rachel again. Maybe she was better off that way?

  “Okay, well, let me know if there’s any more trouble. It’s no doubt just kids pulling some dumb prank. I best get back in to town.”

  “It’s good to see you, Nathan. Thanks for coming to check it out. They’d have my hide, if the place got damaged.”

  “No problem. Take it easy.”

  Nathan got back in to his squad car. A flash of anger caused him to lash out at the steering wheel before speeding off back in the direction of the town. The knawing at the back of his brain had intensified. Screw it, he thought. Time to pay Gloria a visit.

  ***

  Nathan left the squad car in the street adjacent to Logan’s Bar, hoping that nobody would realise it was his. He knew people talked about him and his problem, but the less he gave them to gossip about the better.

  His hands were shaking as he walked in to the stuffy bar and ordered himself a whiskey.

  “Hittin’ the hard stuff early today aren’t we, Nate?” Gloria asked, pouring the brown liquid.

  “Rough day.”

  “Well honey, you ain’t gonna make it any better, burying your face in a glass.”

  “Thanks for the advice,” Nathan replied, taking his drink and moving over to a secluded table in the corner.

  As he sat down, the cell phone in his pocket began to vibrate. Reaching in to his pocket and pulling it out, he took one look at the caller I.D and switched it off. He didn’t want to be disturbed. All he wanted was to be left alone this afternoon, so that he could give in to the temptation. It was best that people stayed out of his way.

  After the first couple of drinks, he felt fine. He could feel his mood beginning to pick up after the fourth. The time slipped past him quicker than his inhibitions, his sense of right and wrong. People came and went. Nobody bothered him, which he was glad of. He managed to keep them away with a permanent scowl fixed on his face. After the sixth, he promised himself he would only have one more and then get back to the office. Maybe Connie had dug up some dirt? She better have, he thought.

  He hated Doctor Cochrane with an intense passion that he hadn’t realised he was capable of feeling. The reason Nathan’s life had taken a turn straight in to a whiskey bottle was his fault. The guy was nothing but a quack, with crackpot theories and an Ivy League diploma. It was his fault that Sheriff Ross was on Nathan’s back all of the time. It was his fault Rachel was turning away from him again. Everything was his fault.

  The gun on Nathan’s hip, suddenly felt heavy. It’d be so easy, he thought, draining the last dregs of the whiskey bottle. He was a good cop, it wouldn’t be hard to hide the body. His hands shook. No, he thought, he couldn’t think like that. At the end of the day, the Doctor hadn’t done anything directly to him. When he filed his report, he had only been doing his job. Just like me, Nathan realised. It hadn’t been Doctor Cochrane that had ruined his life. It had been his own weakness the day of the shootout that had led him on a downward spiral. He had no one else to blame but himself.

  Nathan wandered back over
to the bar to get another bottle. The entire room spun as he staggered forward.

  “’Nother bottle, Gloria.”

  “I think you’ve had enough, don’t you?”

  “You can never have enough.”

  “If you say so, honey.”

  She left to get a bottle from the cellar. They didn’t keep Nathan’s favourite brand behind the bar. He stood there and waited for her to return. He felt a hand on his shoulder.

  “Hey Mr. Ross, you might want to get out to your car,” the bus boy said, looking sheepish.

  “And why would that be?”

  “I was just passing and could hear the radio going crazy. Whoever was on the other end sounded really pissed with you.”

  Shit, he thought. “When Gloria comes back up, bring the bottle out to me.”

  “Sure, no problem.”

  Nathan staggered out of the bar as quickly as he could, his legs feeling like jelly. The cold air did little to sober him up on the walk back to the squad car. He got in and tried to compose himself before talking over the radio.

  “Dispatch, this is Deputy Ross, go ahead.”

  Nathan, where the hell have you been? I’ve been trying to get hold of you for hours.

  “Sorry Connie, I was occupied.”

  There was silence for a few seconds that said more than words ever could. He suddenly felt very ashamed of himself.

  “Have you managed to find anything.”

  Oh yeah, don’t worry, I risked my job for you and found some stuff out.

  His heart almost leapt out of his mouth. “What have you found?”

  I’m not sure I should tell you.

  “Look Connie, I really am sorry, but I need to know that information. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

  Hmm, well okay. I couldn’t find any connection between Doctor Cochrane and the Langrishe family, but I do know who owns the house.

  “Who?” Nathan almost shouted it down the line, growing more and more anxious to know.

  The same Doctor Cochrane.

  That’s it, he thought. It wasn’t much to go on, but it might be enough to put Rachel off. “Thanks Connie.”

 

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