Finding the Way Back (7 page)

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Authors: Jill Bisker

BOOK: Finding the Way Back
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I huddled next to my car, as Connie shivered
next to me. “Okay, what now?” I asked. I glanced back up to the
house and a movement caught my eye. Stepping closer I discerned a
dark shadow at the far window of the master bedroom.

“Connie, do you see a shape in the master? Is
that someone in the window?” I asked. Suddenly shaking, I pointed
up at the window and felt my heartbeat quicken. I started to get a
sick feeling in my stomach. Connie gripped my hand, moving closer
to me. The shape seemed to linger in the window as we gazed at the
house. I tried to make out what it might be, something normal,
mundane, but it defied reason, and time seemed to stop as Connie
and I stared.

Suddenly, I blinked, and the shape was
gone.

“Weird,” I heard Connie say.

“Yeah, that didn’t really look like it moved
or walked away did it?” I asked. “It looked like it just—”

“Disappeared,” my cousin whispered.

 

 

Chapter
Seven

 

As Connie and I stood there, gazing at the
house, I saw movement out of the corner of my eye at an upstairs
window next door. “Watch out, Mrs. Kravitz on the left,” I
whispered to Connie. “The neighbors are going to think we’re nuts
running out into the night in only our socks, then milling about
the yard.”

“I think we’re nuts,” Connie answered in a
deadpan voice. “But then again...” she left the thought open
ended.

The wind blew through the new leaves in the
trees, and the squirrels scurried about, gathering sticks and
leaves to build their nests. The croaks of tree frogs interrupted
the silence as Connie and I stood like statues in front of the
house, both of us pondering what to do next. The juxtaposition of
the calm, natural world and the frightening uncertainty I was
contemplating jarred my senses.

“I’m cold,” I finally said, wrapping my arms
around myself. I was starting to feel the dampness from the spring
grass seeping through my socks. “What are we going to do now?”

“I think I might have a friend who will come
over and walk through the house with us,” Connie replied slowly,
pulling her cell phone out. I climbed in my car, trying to find
warmth while Connie paced up and down the sidewalk, making her
call. I grabbed a blanket from the back and curled up in the front
seat, wrapping the wool tightly around my wet feet. Lucky for me
the automatic locks no longer worked on my old car. If I wanted to
lock it, I had to do it manually with the key, which of course I
always forgot to do. Otherwise I’d still be standing outside in
cold wet socks. Over two hundred thousand miles, but I loved this
car.

Apparently the cold didn’t bother Connie, as
she prolonged her conversation outside. I wondered how much
information she was giving her friend.

She finished her call and climbed in my car
with me.

“Who is this friend and how are we going to
keep him or her from thinking we’re nuts?” I asked her.

“His name is Emmett. He’s just a guy I know.
He’s close and won’t mind stopping over. He’s friends with Dean
Adams. Remember Dean?”

“How could I forget? Gorgeous, funny,
football player, Norse god.” I laughed then sobered. ”Do you think
there’s someone in there?”

“I don’t know. The steps sure sounded
distinct, not like just the wind blowing through drafty windows, or
settling floorboards.”

“Maybe whoever it was went out the back door
by now,” I conjectured. “He had to know we saw him. It would be
logical to think we’d call the police or something.”

“I’ve never experienced this sort of thing
before,” Connie said. “I really don’t know what to think.”

“What sort of thing? Someone being in your
house? Me neither. It’s scary, isn’t it? To think of someone
walking into your house when you’re not home. Actually, it’s kind
of making me mad. What right do they have anyway?” I was working
myself up into full-fledged indignation.

“Laney, why would someone hide in the house,
not show themselves and just try to scare us? If it was a robber he
should have pulled a gun and tied us up or something. Instead we
just hear footsteps and see shadows. I’ve seen enough movies to
know a haunted house when I see one.”

“Haunted house? A haunted house. Come on,
Connie, you think it’s more likely our house is haunted than
someone broke in to steal things? Maybe they are trying to scare us
into leaving so they can go through the house at their leisure. You
saw
Antique Roadshow
, maybe Grandfather bought something
valuable at a garage sale and the person didn’t realize they had
something at the time. A lot of the people say they are just given
this stuff or they buy it at a garage sale,” I said, rolling my
eyes. “Haven’t you also seen the horror movies where the axe
murderer finally shows himself and hacks everyone up?”

“Seriously, you’re going to go with axe
murderer over haunted house? Let’s just wait for Emmett.”

I didn’t want to argue with Connie but,
seriously, haunted? Who believed in ghosts nowadays? Maybe some
deluded people who believe everything they see on the internet or
TV. Every time I saw one of those shows, I could figure out a way
it might have been faked.

Eventually, I heard the sound of a car behind
me and turned to see a shiny red pick-up truck pull up. “He’s
here,” Connie finally said, stating the obvious.

Extricating myself from the comfort of my
blanket, I stepped out of the car to meet our new guest. The little
warmth I had gained by sitting in the car was stripped away by the
wind which had begun to pick up. I ran my hands up and down my
arms, trying to generate some heat as I walked over to meet him,
feeling self-conscious walking around only in my socks. He stepped
down out of his truck, the spotless chrome running boards shining
in the darkness.

The first thing I noticed was the brilliant
smile he flashed Connie as he came around the truck. It was like
the night lit up. He was cute, this friend of Connie’s. I had to
remind myself that I was in the midst of a divorce, but it was hard
not to notice that he was my type. Careless brown hair fell over
his forehead, and was a little long over his ears like he hadn’t
gotten it cut in a while. High cheekbones and a strong jaw
complimented his light blue eyes. He wore a blue t-shirt with a
lightweight jean jacket, and I noticed how the color of his shirt
brought out the blue in his eyes. He was only a few inches taller
than me, but he exuded quiet strength and confidence in the moment
he arrived.
Connie’s friend,
I reminded myself.
Connie’s
friend.
Right, I knew what that meant.

Self-consciously I put my hand to my head to
smooth my hair and felt the ridiculous plastic hair coloring cap.
Oh my God! I realized how awful I must have looked with my hair
sticking out. Even worse, I wondered if I’d burned my hair beyond
repair.

“Connie, quick, we have to go wash this stuff
out!” I made a beeline for the house, pushing aside the thought
about any danger that could be lurking inside.

“Laney, wait,” Connie yelled as she and
Emmett followed after me. I could hear their footfalls behind me on
the concrete sidewalk.

“I have to get this out before all my hair
breaks off,” I yelled back frantically, going through the porch and
open front door and skidding into the kitchen. I quickly turned on
the water and shoved my head under the faucet, pulling the cap off
and rinsing my hair. Connie raced in behind me. “I need shampoo!” I
yelled at her.

“I am not going anywhere in this house to
find you shampoo until we check everything out.” She fired back at
me. “Here,” she said grabbing the dish soap next to the sink. Use
this.”

I glared at her from the sink, then took the
soap and poured a small amount into my hand. Beggars couldn’t be
choosers. Connie relented when she saw the massive amount of suds I
was generating, and at least helped me rinse the soap out, handing
me a dishtowel to wrap around my head. Toweling my hair dry I
turned and looked up to find Connie’s friend staring at us with a
puzzled grin on his face.

“I thought you two were nervous that someone
was in the house,” he said.

“Sorry! Hi, I’m Laney, Connie’s cousin.” I
reached out to shake his hand, feeling my face turn red. “I’m not
really crazy,” I began and then decided to give up. How could I
look anything but? A feeling of panic passed through me as I
realized how stupid I’d been. There could still be someone in the
house.

“This is Emmett Linden,” Connie interrupted
calmly before I said something else stupid and made myself look
even more nuts. After all, he was there because we thought we had
someone in the house. Then I go running into said house on account
of my hair coloring. He would be right to think I was crazy.

“Hi. Nice to meet you. Before we do anything
else, let’s go through the place and make sure no one else is
here,” Emmett said.

“What if someone
is
here?” I asked
peeling my now filthy, wet socks off and throwing them towards the
back door. “Are you sure it’s safe to do this by ourselves?”

“Since you’re the one that ran in here
without any plan, should you really be questioning safety, Miss
Careful and Ridiculous?” Connie asked, following my lead in
removing her own wet socks. “Besides, I don’t think the police can
help us catch a ghost.”

“It’s not a ghost,” I insisted. But, there
was probably no harm in checking out exactly what was going on now
that there were three of us. If there was someone in the house
before, I doubt they would have waited around to get caught, I
reassured myself. Besides, they would have seen Emmett pulling up,
so we now outnumbered the intruder three to one. None of it made
any sense. The whole thing was probably nothing and we would laugh
about it tomorrow.

Emmett started for the stairs. “You said you
saw the figure in the upstairs window, right?”

“In the master,” I replied reluctantly. It
seemed ridiculous as I said it to someone other than my cousin. The
three of us trooped up the stairs like the Scooby gang, making a
ton of noise as we went. I followed Emmett to the entrance of the
master bedroom. He maneuvered his way past the boxes and around the
bed, while Connie and I stayed by the door.

“Well, that’s odd,” I said looking across the
room. “There are boxes in front of the window where we saw the
shadow. There couldn’t have been anyone standing there.”

“Ghost,” Connie retorted.

“No. We both expected to see someone
somewhere, after hearing what we thought were footsteps,” I
answered. “The drapery must hang in a way that leaves a shadow in
certain light.” I was beginning to feel better now that I had
confirmed what I had started to suspect already. We had overreacted
just as I had the night before when the music was playing. That
made so much more sense. And the footsteps were probably just a
strange echo of squirrels on the roof. Or worse, maybe they had
gotten into the walls.

I turned and walked out of the bedroom,
heading for the bathroom, while Connie and Emmett checked the other
rooms. I needed to brush out my hair before it dried into more of a
tangled mess than it was under the towel. I was no longer worried
about intruders. It was all our imagination. Simon always said I
was fanciful. This was just another silly moment of mine. If I was
fanciful, Connie took another step right into whimsy. She really
believed what she’d said about ghosts.

I closed the bathroom door and sprayed the
detangler into my hair, starting to comb out the snarls with a
large-toothed comb. My hair seemed to have made it through the
highlighting near-disaster, although I wouldn’t be sure until it
was dry. Just as I finished I heard someone brush against the door.
“I’ll be out in a minute, Connie,” I yelled through the door. For
some reason she kept rubbing up against it, probably just to annoy
me. We’d always done that as kids. We would try to hurry the person
in the bathroom by talking to them through the door, knocking, and
just plain harassing. She must have been in a hurry for something
because she wasn’t giving up on the game. “Fine, I’m done,” I
snapped as I pulled the door open.

I gasped and stepped backward into the
bathroom, confused. Connie wasn’t standing at the door, and neither
was anyone else. I leaned out to peek down into the hall and no one
was there either. I could hear Connie and Emmett down in the
kitchen talking quietly.

Neither Connie nor Emmett could have gotten
away from the door and back to the kitchen that quickly. I felt a
chill run down my spine, my fear returning. Someone or something
rubbed up against the door loud enough for me to hear it. I took
off down the hall, stumbling down the stairs loudly.

Out of breath, I stopped in front of Emmett
and Connie who were sitting at the kitchen table talking.

“What’s wrong?” Connie asked, a look of alarm
on her face.

I struggled to get the words out, my mouth
was so dry. “I was wrong, there’s someone in the house,” I finally
managed to get out.

“What?” Connie began, but Emmett was past me
and up the stairs before I could say any more. We went charging
after him. “Emmett! Wait! There’s someone up there! I know there
is—I heard it!”

He was quickly moving from room to room then
was back in the middle of the hall. “I didn’t see anyone, Laney. I
went in every room. There’s no one here and no place to hide with
all this stuff in the way. No one could have gotten past the
kitchen without us seeing them.”

“But I heard it. Someone was rubbing up
against the door when I was in the bathroom. I didn’t imagine this.
It really happened.”

“I’m sure you heard something,” Emmett said.
“But there’s no one here.”

“What do you mean? Do you think I’m making
this up, that I’m just imagining all this? You know what—I don’t
need your help. It was Connie’s idea to call you.”

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