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A Fistful of Demons

Page 5

by Lily Harper Hart


  “So ... we’re just expected to go back to work like nothing happened?” Hannah asked after a beat. “I mean ... will we open today like it’s a normal day?”

  Cooper nodded without hesitation. “It’s a normal day,” he insisted. “Think of it like a circus performance. No matter what, the show must go on.”

  Hannah tilted her head, considering, and then nodded. “Okay. I just hope we get some answers by the end of the day.”

  “That would be best for everybody concerned,” Boone agreed. “The sooner we can put this behind us, the better.”

  5

  Five

  Hannah wasn’t ready to let go of her demon theory. Sure, it wasn’t an actual theory until Jackie explained about demons, but the more she thought about it, the more she warmed to the idea. If witches were real, why not demons?

  After breakfast, she walked Jinx to the stable and asked Tyler if he would be willing to watch the playful canine. He readily agreed, said Jinx was a great draw for the guests, and didn’t ask about her plans. Technically, she was supposed to work in the saloon. She tasked one of the other workers to cover for her, however, and headed out.

  Actually, she snuck out. The one person she didn’t want to see her leaving was Cooper. While he’d been pleasant and accommodating over breakfast, she had no doubt he was still riding the “Hannah is crazy” train. She didn’t want to explain what she had planned, so it was easier to just slip out.

  She had to look up the family on the internet. Thankfully, she found an address. Since she wasn’t familiar with the area, she plugged the information into her car’s GPS and then followed the red line on the screen until she found herself in a pleasant subdivision. Once she figured out the correct house, she parked on the adjacent corner and rolled down her window before killing the engine.

  It wasn’t overly hot — something she was thankful for — but she regretted not buying a bottle of water from a gas station before settling in.

  Truthfully, Hannah wasn’t sure what she expected to see at the house. She couldn’t get Logan out of her mind, though. The boy had been quiet during his mother’s meltdown. She tried to put herself into his shoes, think about the things that must’ve been going through his head, and feel the emotions she would’ve felt in his place.

  She came up empty. First off, he was a boy. She had zero experience with pre-teen boys. Television and movies made her think they weren’t the demonstrative sort. A girl the same age probably would’ve been crying and carrying on. That’s how she would’ve reacted. Neither boy showed much emotion, though. She’d initially written it off as shock, or maybe even confusion. Now she wasn’t so sure.

  Movement at the front of the house caught her attention. It was Patrick, the older boy, and he looked subdued. He exited the front door and headed straight for the mailbox. Hannah slid lower in her seat to make sure he didn’t catch sight of her, but he didn’t as much as look in her direction. He seemed focused on his task.

  The closer he got the clearer the picture Hannah was able to make out. His eyes were red and puffy, indicating he’d been crying, and his features were closed and drawn. She wanted to go to him, comfort him, and yet she knew that would be the absolute worst thing to do. If Lindsey found out, she was likely to call the police ... and Hannah couldn’t blame her given the circumstances. The family had been through enough.

  Patrick was halfway back to the door when Logan appeared. He stood on the front porch, his face wan, and watched his brother shuffle back. Unlike his older sibling, Logan didn’t look as if he’d been crying. His face was smooth, free of the blotchy patches Patrick boasted, and his eyes weren’t puffy.

  She reminded herself that no two people reacted in the same manner to death. Sometimes people shut off their emotions and closed out the world. It was possible Logan was reacting that way. He was younger after all. He might simply not understand the true ramifications of what happened.

  The window was down, allowing a soft breeze to waft through the car. The neighborhood was so quiet, Hannah had no problem hearing the words being exchanged by the boys.

  “What’s Mom doing?” Patrick asked, his voice raspy.

  “She’s still in bed.” Logan sounded blasé, as if largely disinterested in the conversation. “I’m going to wake her up.”

  “Don’t do that. She needs to sleep. She was up all night.”

  “Why?”

  “Why do you think?” Patrick’s agitation was on full display. “She was on the phone with Grandma until really late.”

  For the first time since she’d first glimpsed the younger boy — and that included the time they’d spent in the saloon the previous afternoon when he’d first discovered his father had passed away — Logan had an emotional reaction.

  “Oh, don’t tell me that old lady is coming here.” He looked apoplectic. “I don’t want to see her. She always treats me like a baby.”

  Patrick’s response was more measured. “I don’t like her either. She always says stupid stuff. Mom needs her, though.”

  “Mom needs a smack in the face,” Logan shot back. “She’s still in bed. I need breakfast.”

  “Make your own breakfast.”

  Logan looked as if that were an alien concept. “Um ... no way. I’m not cooking for myself. I’m not supposed to use the stove. You know that.”

  “It’s probably because you almost burned the house down the last time.” Patrick stilled at the bottom of the steps that led to the large porch. “You don’t have to cook something. There’s cereal. Just have that.”

  Logan rolled his eyes. “I don’t like cereal. She got rid of the good stuff.”

  “That’s because of you.” Patrick’s unhappiness only grew as he glared at his younger brother. “The doctor says you get too hyper if you have too much sugar and that’s why we can’t have any good cereal.”

  “I don’t get hyper.”

  “You do so.”

  Hannah couldn’t stop herself from smiling. Now they sounded like normal brothers squabbling about unimportant things. Of course, the timing was off, but they had so much to deal with it was nice to see.

  “I still want breakfast.” Logan was adamant. “She’s supposed to make sure we eat. I’ll starve soon if I don’t have something. I’m going to wake her up.”

  Patrick was up the steps in two quick strides and he grabbed his brother by the back of the shirt before he could disappear into the house. “Don’t even think about it.” He looked serious and Hannah was momentarily worried she would have to insert herself into the argument, if only to make sure one of the boys didn’t end up with an injury.

  “Don’t tell me what to do.” Logan’s voice was practically dripping with warning as he grabbed his brother’s wrist. “Don’t touch me either. You’re not supposed to touch me. I told you what would happen if you ever touched me.”

  To Hannah’s utter surprise, instead of pushing things further, Patrick immediately released his brother and took a deliberate step back. It was hard to see the expression on his face given the angle, but she was almost positive she saw fear reflected there. That seemed out of place given the circumstances. Patrick was bigger, he had at least two inches on the younger boy, and he outweighed him by a good thirty pounds. Logan was clearly the one in control, though.

  “I just don’t want you to wake her up,” Patrick said finally, his voice weaker than it had been only moments before. “Dad is dead. You know what that means, don’t you? He’s not coming back.”

  “So what? He was always mean anyway.”

  “He wasn’t always mean.”

  “Maybe not to you. He was mean to me, though. He was mean yesterday. He kept yelling at us.”

  “Because you wouldn’t stop breaking the rules.” Patrick’s words were laced with accusation. “You always break the rules. If you had just done what he said ... .”

  “What?” Logan’s disdain was hard to miss. He was a cocky kid and he wasn’t afraid to show it. “Are you blaming what happened on me?�


  “Of course not.” Patrick’s answer was fast, automatic. Hannah wasn’t sure she believed him, though. It was obvious the dynamic between the boys was somehow off. “It’s nobody’s fault. It’s one of those things that just happens.”

  “Mom doesn’t think so,” Logan countered. “She’s going to sue that woman at the Western town. Do you think we’ll be rich if she does?”

  “I don’t think she’s going to really sue.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it wasn’t that woman’s fault either. She wasn’t even there.”

  “Who cares?” Logan rolled his shoulders, as if preparing for a fight. “I think she should sue her. Then we won’t have to hear how she can’t afford to buy us what we want. I think it’s a good idea.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t get your hopes up.”

  “You’re like zero fun.” Logan shuffled back toward the door. “I hate it when you’re no fun.” He cast a look over his shoulder. “I’m going to wake Mom up for breakfast now. I’m hungry.”

  “Don’t do that. I’ll make breakfast for you. Mom needs to sleep. It’s going to be worse if she wakes up.”

  “You’re going to cook for me?” Logan brightened considerably. “Okay. I want pancakes.”

  “I’ll make them.” Patrick was resigned. “Just ... don’t wake her up. She’s going to be sad when she gets up again.”

  “I won’t wake her up.”

  Hannah remained rigidly slouched in her seat until the boys disappeared inside and then she straightened. She wasn’t sure what she’d just witnessed, but it wasn’t normal. That was the only thing she could ascertain with any degree of certainty.

  TWO HOURS LATER, HANNAH’S BACK and legs were screaming about being cooped up in the car. There had been no further activity at the house, so she risked exiting her vehicle to stretch her legs. She walked up and down the block three times and was preparing to climb back in the car when she noticed a man watching her from a nearby house. He was young, in his late twenties, and he seemed amused by her exercise routine.

  “Hello.” Hannah straightened, feeling like an idiot. “Um ... how are you?”

  He laughed at her reaction. “I’m good. How are you?”

  “I’m ... great. I’m just looking around the neighborhood because I’m interested in purchasing a house around here.” The lie rolled off her tongue with little effort.

  “Really?” The man’s eyes gleamed with interest as he abandoned his trimming device and circled out from behind the hedge. “You would be a great addition to the neighborhood.”

  Up close, he was extremely attractive. He had dark hair cropped close to his head and he was shirtless, which allowed her to get a gander at his impressive muscles. He obviously worked out ... a lot. His green eyes were keen as they looked Hannah up and down, and it was clear he liked what he saw because there was an undeniable gleam in his eyes.

  “I’m Derek Gibson.” He wiped his hand on his shorts before extending it in her direction.

  “Hannah Hickok.” She had no choice but to act like a friendly real estate enthusiast, so that’s exactly what she did. “This is a nice area. Have you lived here long?”

  “Two years. I bought the house right after I moved to the area — I’m from Ohio originally — and I’m not sorry. This is a great neighborhood, quiet. I mean ... you like a quiet neighborhood, right?” His eyes continuously roamed over her trim body. “You’re not a party animal, are you? Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”

  Hannah had to swallow the absurd urge to laugh. It was a surreal situation, but she couldn’t exactly tip her hand to the real reason she was watching the Lincoln house. Derek seemed friendly enough but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t report her for being a crazy stalker if he felt it necessary.

  “I’m not a party animal,” she reassured him. “I’m the quiet sort.”

  “Kids?”

  She shook her head, understanding what he was really asking without having to think too hard on it. “No kids. I have a dog. That’s it, though.”

  He visibly relaxed. “That’s good. That’s really good.” He glanced around, his smile never wavering. “What can I tell you to get you to move to the neighborhood? I think you would be a great fit.”

  Since she was stuck there anyway, Hannah decided to use him as a source. “Well, what’s the homeowners association like?”

  He barked out a gregarious laugh that took her by surprise. “There’s no homeowners association here. Let me guess, you’re from a big city with a lot of suburbs. This is an older community. It’s not a subdivision.”

  “Oh.” Hannah couldn't help wondering if she should’ve realized that herself. “That’s good. There’s nothing worse than an overzealous homeowners association.”

  “I’ll have to take your word for it. This is my first house.”

  “You mentioned the neighborhood is quiet.” She regrouped quickly. “Does that mean it’s all older couples?”

  “Oh, um ... not really.” Derek looked legitimately pensive as he glanced around. “The Dorchesters live in that house and they’re older.” He pointed toward a well-kept house with gingerbread trim on the corner. “They’re the sort who sit on their front porch and spy on the neighbors. They’re really worried about what everyone else is doing. They’re basically harmless, though.”

  “That’s good. What about the others?”

  “Well, you have the Stinsons here.” He gestured at another house. “They’ve been married about six months and they spent all their time banging for the first three months. They were so loud there was no way to mistake what they were doing. You could hear them from every direction.

  “All that banging went to good use, though, because now she’s pregnant,” he continued, clearly enjoying his position as neighborhood welcome chairman. “She’s not due for another six months or something, but they’re constantly cooing at each other and having baby furniture delivered. They’re a little sugary but harmless.”

  Hannah nodded, her eyes automatically tracking to the Lincoln home. “And there? It looks like they have kids. They’re not loud kids, are they?”

  Derek’s smile slipped. “They have two boys. Twelve — although I think Patrick is almost thirteen now — and ten. They’re not overly loud. They play in the yard sometimes and Patrick has some friends who come over and play basketball about once a week. Logan, well, he’s not loud at all.”

  The way he said it piqued Hannah’s interest. “I’ve never heard of a ten-year-old boy being quiet.”

  “Logan is. He just kind of hangs around by himself. He doesn’t have any friends.”

  “None?”

  “Nope.” Derek shook his head, a look of melancholy washing over his features. “They’re honestly good boys. They don’t get into a lot of trouble.”

  He was obviously leaving something out of the telling, Hannah surmised. She was more determined than ever to figure out what. “There’s something you’re not saying.”

  “Oh, well ... .” Derek let loose a terrific sigh. “The thing is, their father was the loud sort. He would yell quite often even though the boys weren’t doing anything wrong. I think he was one of those crabby guys who was never going to be happy no matter what those boys did. I recognized it in him because my father was the same way.”

  Hannah pursed her lips, sympathy welling up. Her father was the exact opposite. He was the enthusiastic sort and almost never yelled. The one instance she could remember of him losing his temper happened when she was a teenager and a man tried to pick her up outside the mall. She’d been naive, didn’t realize what was happening, and her father absolutely lost it when he showed up. After the fact, he reassured her he wasn’t angry with her but afraid of what might’ve happened. After that, she’d been much more careful when it came to strange men.

  “You’re talking about the father in the past tense,” she noted after a beat. “Did something happen?”

  Derek nodded, his eyes never leaving the house. “App
arently Todd died yesterday. That’s the rumor I heard anyway. He was out on some family gathering and he just dropped dead.”

  Hannah widened her eyes because she figured that was the appropriate response. “Do they know what happened to him?”

  He shook his head. “Not that I’m aware. I’m betting it turns out to be a heart attack or something. He was the high-strung sort.”

  “That’s horrible.”

  “Yeah. I feel bad for the boys ... and Lindsey. That’s the mother. I think Todd was the disciplinarian in the family and she was the more indulgent parent. I think she’s going to have a lot to deal with going forward. Raising two boys ... I mean, they’re good boys. It’s just a different world today than she was dealing with yesterday.”

  “I can imagine.” Hannah licked her lips. “Well, you’ve definitely given me a lot to think about. I like the neighborhood, but I need to have a sit-down with my bank and make sure I can finance the house.”

  “I hope it works out.” Derek’s smile was back. “In fact, before you go, what do you say to me buying you lunch? There’s a restaurant right around the corner that way and it’s really good. If Sandy’s cooking — she’s the owner — doesn’t convince you this is the neighborhood for you, I don’t know what will.”

  He was eager — ridiculously so — and Hannah didn’t want to hurt his feelings. There was no way she could waste an afternoon having lunch when she was expected somewhere else, though. “Oh, well, I really appreciate it.” She searched for the appropriate way to let him down easy. “I have somewhere I have to be, though.”

  “Where’s that? It can’t be that important. Come on. Take a chance.” His smile was compelling and Hannah was considering acquiescing when a third shadow appeared on the sidewalk to her left, momentarily snagging her attention.

  “She already has lunch plans,” Cooper announced, coming out of nowhere and stealing the breath from Hannah’s lungs. “I’m sure she’s grateful for the rundown of the neighborhood. I’ll take it from here, though.”

 

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