The House Guest

by Rosa Sophia

  “He was home-schooled. I only ever saw him when he was going down to the creek. One day, we ran into each other down there. I was alone. I asked him what his name was. He didn’t talk much and he went home shortly after that.”

  “Where was home?”

  Gertrude scrunched up her nose, appearing perplexed. “I don’t know. I think he was a cousin of the Maslins or something. After a while, he left. People were saying he went to live with his aunt somewhere down south. No one ever saw him again.”

  “Okay, that’s all I wanted to know.”

  “Are you sure?” Gertrude pushed herself up on her elbow and kissed Mike on the forehead.

  “Yes, that’s it. I just need some sleep now.”

  “Okay, darling. Good night.”

  “’Night.”

  Chapter 8

  Fighting With Herself

  The next morning, Kat picked up the phone and called the cell number that Millie Rosaro had given her. When Allen Ryman answered, he sounded extremely annoyed.

  “Who is this?” he snapped.

  “Katherine Maslin. I need a lawyer.”

  He scoffed, but she knew he remembered her. Then his tone took on a more professional air. “The woman who inherited the estate,” he said. “How did you get this number?”

  “Millie gave it to me.”

  “This is very unorthodox.”

  “Me calling your cell phone?”

  Ryman coughed. “Okay, what’s your problem?” he asked.

  “They think I killed somebody. He died in my house and I’m the prime suspect. If enough evidence is raised against me—”

  “Wait a minute. You’re kidding me. Another death in the Maslin house?” Whatever professionalism he’d been trying to muster immediately disappeared.

  “Hard to believe, isn’t it?”

  “Who is it this time?” Ryman was probably the most casual lawyer Kat had ever met. She sat down on the couch in Corry’s living room, and felt herself starting to shake again. The Doberman jumped up on the cushions and rested his head on her lap.

  “Jonathan Stark.” Kat idly petted the dog’s head. His presence calmed her somehow.

  The man on the other line grew so silent that Kat was certain he’d hung up on her. She asked if he was still there. After several long seconds, he replied.

  “Yeah, I’m here.”

  “So, will you help me?”

  “Sure, I guess I can.”

  “What’s wrong?” Kat asked.

  “I’m just surprised, I mean…he was the killer.”

  “And now he’s been killed.”

  “Look, let’s meet somewhere. How about for lunch?”

  “Okay. Where?”

  “I hate fancy stuff. Is the A & R diner all right? You know where that is, right?”

  “Yeah. See you at twelve.”

  “Right. Bye.”

  ***

  Katherine had never been a hateful person. Anyone she’d ever proclaimed malevolence for was someone she merely disliked. She felt guilty about hate, and that guilt was beginning to weigh her down.

  Jake had gone job hunting, and Corry was at work. At the moment, Kat’s only companion was Stark’s dog, whom she decided to name Jonny. The dog acted strangely sometimes and had created a habit of running into things at odd moments, which had most likely been caused by the blow to the head he’d received on the night of Stark’s death.

  She didn’t know what had happened, but she knew someone had hurt the dog. She regretted not taking him to the vet. The thing was, she and Jake were almost out of money. Suddenly, Kat felt herself longing for that little apartment in Souderton. She missed the monotony of her previous existence, before she had found out about her grandparents and the will.

  Kat got ready to leave for her meeting with Ryman. She got dressed, used the bathroom, finally took a shower and brushed her teeth. She felt slightly better, which surprised her. Then she patted Jonny the dog on the head and walked over to Corry’s front door. Jonny whined.

  “Hey, I’ll be back,” she told him. He came over to her and pushed against her as though he were a giant cat. She had never met a more affectionate Doberman in her life. Instead of a simple pat, she knelt down and gave the dog a hug. He responded by licking her face. She was surprised for the second time that day, because it made her laugh.

  “Look.” She pointed over at the food dish in the kitchen. She had been feeding Jonny scraps of meat Corry had around the house. Today, she would buy him dog food.

  Kat said goodbye to Jonny and left around eleven o’clock that morning. She got to the diner shortly thereafter. She went inside, ordered coffee, and observed all the people around her. Just as she was wondering why diners were always filled with old people, she saw Allen Ryman come in the front door. Kat was sitting in a corner booth in the far end of the large dining room. She stood up for a moment so he would see her.

  He was wearing a black suit, which Kat supposed was typical of lawyers. But rather than appearing business-like, Ryman looked more like he was going to a funeral. This made Katherine wonder how he viewed her and their meeting. He nodded to her in greeting, and slid into the other side of the booth.

  “How are you?” he asked.

  “I could be better. A lot better,” Kat said, sipping her coffee.

  “I completely understand. So…give me some details.”

  “Well…”

  “Are you ready to order?” It was the waitress, interrupting her.

  Kat flashed a quick, insincere smile and said, “Just French fries. Thanks.”

  The waitress jotted it down on her notepad. Then she cocked her head, a strange expression on her face. “You look really familiar. Do I know you?”

  “No.”

  “Wait, you’re the girl who went missing! I saw you on TV.” The waitress pointed an accusatory finger.

  “No, you’ve got me mixed up with someone else,” Kat said firmly.

  “Excuse me, but we have business to conduct,” Ryman snapped.

  The waitress scowled. “Anything else?”

  After Ryman had ordered a cup of coffee, Kat let her mind drift until the lawyer politely reminded her why they were there. She apologized, and reluctantly continued. “Somebody suffocated Jonathan Stark.”

  “With what?” Ryman looked tired and there were wrinkles under his eyes. How old was he? Forty-five, forty-six maybe?

  “They didn’t really give me any details. I guess it was a pillow, I don’t know. I had to leave the house. Jake and I are staying with a friend now.”

  “I see. Where was he killed?”

  “In the guest bedroom where he was sleeping. It happened around midnight.” Out of the corner of her eye, Katherine could see people pointing at her.

  “Did you go in his room at all during the night? For anything?”

  “Only to bring him a glass of water. He wasn’t feeling too well.”

  That was most certainly true. Before Kat had gone to bed, Jonathan had complained he was feeling sick. Kat had asked why and he had said it was the house. The fact he had been here so long ago, and that he had so many horrible memories of the place. He said if he didn’t get some water and eight hours of sleep very soon, he would either vomit or start seeing things. Kat had brought him a glass of water.

  “Before we go any further, Katherine, I’d like to point something out.” Ryman leaned in closer and lowered his voice. “If you did do it, it would be in your best interest to admit it and plead insanity.”

  “Why the hell do people keep saying that?” she snapped. “First that police officer, now you!”

  “It’s because it’s true, Kat. Look, I’m your lawyer, officially. I will defend you to the best of my ability. And let me tell you, I’ve defended some horrible criminals in my time, not to say that you’re one of them. But if there’s anything you need to tell me, I urge you to let me know. Maybe not here, but back at my office. Just get it off your chest. If you did—”

  “Allen, I didn’t kill
anyone.”

  “All right, fair enough. Now let’s get down to business.”

  ***

  It wasn’t often that Kat planned for the future, but now she was being forced to. And on top of that, she had to figure out why Jonathan Stark had died, who had killed him and why she had found Allen Ryman’s office phone number by the bed of the deceased. She was almost certain that either Allen or Millie knew Stark personally. The question was, which one of them was refusing to admit it and which one honestly didn’t know him?

  Kat knew what she was going to say in court. She had to plead insanity. What other choice did she have? If there was enough evidence against her, what could she do? But whenever she used that reasoning, her innocence would attack it viciously.

  You didn’t do anything. Why the hell are you letting these people push you around? Or do you really believe that you’re guilty?

  Kat again remembered the term labeling from her high school psychology class. If someone is told they are a delinquent, they will become one. If someone is told they are a murderer then that is what they are. A mentally ill homeless person could be convinced they’d killed a man when they hadn’t even been at the scene of the crime.

  With everything Katherine had experienced already, did she even know what was real and what wasn’t? What could she call truth and what could she call a dream? Perhaps she had been crazy all along. Maybe she had never spoken with her father in 1960, never read Shakespeare with Phillip Maslin all those years ago, and never seen the death of a little boy, a boy who’d been so different that his father had found him deserving of slaughter.

  Kat was so confused that reality was beginning to drift away from her. She had scheduled an appointment with Janis Crow. It was the least she could do for her mind, for her sanity. If she couldn’t help herself, there had to be someone out there who could.

  “Come on, hon, I’ll buy you an ice cream cone.” Corry stepped out of her beat-up old Chevy, shut the door and went to the other side of the vehicle. She opened the back door and Jonny jumped out, panting. Kat remained in the passenger seat, staring forward like some kind of zombie.

  Kat knew she looked normal, but she was torn up inside, as though a beast had begun eating away at her innards until there was almost nothing left.

  “Kat?” Corry opened the passenger side door and took her friend’s hand. “Come on.” She coaxed her out of the car until the two women were standing side by side in the parking lot. They were at an ice cream shop in Souderton, but all of a sudden Kat wasn’t sure how she’d gotten there.

  “Now that we’re here, I’m not sure I really want any.” Her voice was barely there—distant.

  “Come on. It’s my treat. Goddess knows you could use a fix of some sort.” Corry led Kat to the outer booth that was separated from the rest of the building. Jonny followed, tongue hanging out. Corry knocked on the window and an employee came around the corner.

  “What would you like today?” the woman asked. She was thin and pretty and had leaf-brown hair.

  “We’ll both have soft ice cream. Small chocolate cones. Right, Kat?”

  “Yeah, sure.” The reply was nowhere near enthusiastic.

  “Coming right up!” A few minutes later, the woman behind the counter handed them each a cone. Corry paid. Jonny panted at their heels. The two women afforded him a few pats on the head.

  “Come on, let’s go sit on a picnic table,” Kat suggested. She had meant it literally. Kat hated sitting at picnic tables, but on top of them was a different story. You got more room when you sat on top of one and sometimes it had the added effect of making you feel superior.

  They rounded the corner of the building and found a grungy table on an even dirtier sidewalk. Kat jumped up and sat in the middle, cross-legged. Jonny curled up on the ground, licking his lips. Corry swung her legs under the table and got comfortable.

  “So tell me,” Corry began, “have you even glanced at the news lately?” She was staring down at the ground beneath the table. After licking her ice cream, she bent down and picked up the newspaper that had been discarded on the ground. She shook the cigarette ashes off its stained surface and laid it on the table. She turned it carefully around to face Katherine, then waited as her friend leaned forward and read it.

  “Missing Woman Has Returned.” Katherine raised an eyebrow and continued to read out loud. “Katherine Maslin, missing for three months, turned up recently, according to her mother, Heidy Maslin. What the hell? That bitch!”

  The dog barked. Corry licked her ice cream cone and stared up at Kat.

  “I can’t believe my mother told the newspapers about my calling her.”

  “What did you expect? This is your mother we’re talking about. The most gossipy woman I’ve ever met. Besides, it would have gotten out anyway. People have probably seen you and—”

  Corry was interrupted. Not by Kat, but by a voice that came from halfway across the parking lot. It said, “Hey! Are you Katherine Maslin?”

  Kat sighed, licked her ice cream unenthusiastically and turned to face the wall of the building. “This happens every time I go outside,” she muttered bitterly.

  “No, she’s not,” Corry called back. “You’ve got the wrong person. Sorry.”

  “No, I always look at the missing persons list,” the apparently obsessive individual called out. “You’re Kat Maslin!” The person was right behind Kat now, but she didn’t turn around. She just kept eating her ice cream.

  There were footsteps nearby and someone said, “Who’s Kat Maslin? What are you, nuts or something?”

  “Are you nuts? She’s that chick that disappeared in June.”

  Corry leaned over to Kat and said, “You want to get out of here?”

  Rather than answer, Kat simply climbed off the picnic table and headed toward the car. Corry leaned down toward Jonny.

  “Come on, boy!” she sat, clapping her hands together. The dog jumped up and rubbed against her legs. “Time to go.” The two of them followed Katherine, ignoring everything else the strangers said. Corry got back in the driver’s seat and turned on the engine, then pulled out of the lot.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I never thought we would run into anyone who reads the news. I know that sounds dumb.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Like you said, people were bound to find out eventually. And I’ve been living in a hole in the ground, so how could I possibly notice unless someone were to point it out to me?”

  “Eh, you never read the newspaper anyway.”

  Chapter 9

  I’ll Tell You Everything

  It would have been dangerous for Frank Ruth to leave the Maslin house. It would have been hard for a blind man to walk all the way to town in the middle of the night, because the nighttime would have been the only time Phillip wouldn’t have seen him slip out the front door and tap his way down the drive.

  Frank considered how incredibly lucky he was. It hadn’t been Julie who’d kept him there, in that old house in Tinicum. It had been something much darker.

  Jacob Haisley had died in 2003. His energetic spirit and carefree attitude was buried in that coffin too, rotting within the body of a man who had been too naïve to realize the truth. And what was the truth?

  It was blood, Frank knew. So much blood the Maslin house may as well have been steeped in it. All Frank could think about.

  All that kept him at Phillip’s farm.

  All that made him obey the words of Anne Maslin, and all that kept him too frightened to leave his bedroom.

  The Maslin house was covered in blood that couldn’t be seen. Frank leaned back in his armchair and turned on the television.

  “In other news, Katherine Maslin, an artist from Souderton, Pennsylvania, has recently turned up according to eye witnesses. Sighted at various locations, Katherine Maslin is believed to be alive and well after being reported missing three months prior. Anyone who knows of her whereabouts…”

  ***

  As soon as they stepped into the house
, Corry’s cell phone rang.

  “Hello, who’s this?” Corry paused. “Okay.” She lowered the phone. “Kat, it’s for you.”

  Kat took the cell phone. “Yes?”

  “This is Frank Ruth. I’d like to talk to you. Could you come down here? I’d rather speak with you in my apartment.”

  “Sure.”

  “All right. I’ll see you soon, then?”

  “Yeah.” Kat hung up the phone and sat down on the couch.

  “Who was it?” her friend asked. Kat told her. “I guess he knows something,” Corry said. “I’ll stay here and get dinner ready.”

  “No, come with me.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah.”

  They left Jonny at Corry’s house. Kat brought a jacket with her. Winter was coming quicker than usual and she wasn’t ready for it. She had spent her summer lost in the past and now she had to get it all in order. She felt as though she were organizing a giant dusty filing cabinet. A lot of the folders weren’t in order, some of them were torn and the rest were all missing.

  Kat’s car was nowhere to be seen. Jake had gone off job-hunting again. It was a relief for Katherine when she climbed into Corry’s car. This way, she wouldn’t have to drive or pay much attention to anything. She wouldn’t have to think about all the things on the road that could kill her—just the things from the past that could rise up and do the same.

  “I’m curious about something, Katherine.” Corry pursed her lips and frowned as she drove. She seemed uneasy. “I’m just worried that if I mention it, I’ll upset you.” Kat considered this and then shrugged it off. She was already upset. What could possibly be worse than what she’d already experienced?

  “Mention it,” she said. Corry paused. She seemed ready to take a punch and that worried Katherine.

  “What did you really see?”

  “What do you mean by that?” Kat knew, but she didn’t want to think about it. She would have to think about it next week, though. She had scheduled a meeting with Corry’s psychiatrist friend on the following Wednesday. She was tired of enduring those memories, of being unable to get past all that blood.