Amanda followed, thinking that these were the moments when she could actually be fond of Rebecca. She might grow tired of Rebecca’s bitchiness, her self-absorption, her moodiness-but Rebecca never sat still when action was needed. Rebecca, she had to admit, was bolder than she was.
The scent of pine trees soothed Amanda’s own edgy nerves a bit. The house was situated in a canyon in the foothills above Los Angeles. The area was not wilderness, but many of the lots were large; the homes nearby were expensive. Most of the owners chose them for the seclusion the area afforded them.
Amanda’s great-grandfather had been involved in the early movie industry and built the oldest part of the house as a private retreat, reputedly his love nest, where he’d sneak away to be with his mistress. No wonder, Amanda thought, he had concealed it by planting trees.
Right at this moment, Amanda wished the house was not surrounded by quite so many of them. Only one other house had even a partial view of her home. Standing on the front porch, she looked up the hill and saw that no lights were on at Derek and Ron’s place-no, she had to stop thinking of it in that way. Tyler Hawthorne’s house.
“So,” Rebecca said, following her gaze. “He’s gone.”
“What?”
“Tyler. When we saw him the other day, he said he was driving to St. Louis.”
“Driving? Not flying?”
“Yes.” She moved fearlessly down the front steps.
Amanda followed her, Tyler forgotten. She tried not to think of all the things baseball bats wouldn’t stop.
“He seemed very interested in knowing if you’d be at the party,” Rebecca added, and Amanda heard the underlying message.
“I’m not interested in him.” Liar, an inner voice said. But she knew that once Rebecca came into a man’s orbit, he never thought twice about Rebecca’s klutzy cousin.
“Oh, that doesn’t worry me,” Rebecca said, causing the last of Amanda’s fear to be chased away by anger.
“I’m sure it doesn’t,” she bit out.
“I just wondered why he’d be interested in you at all.”
“He’s not interested. I met him briefly at the hospice. He and Ron are friends.”
“Oh.” Rebecca frowned, working this out. Undoubtedly, as far as Rebecca was concerned, friendship with Ron put some kind of black mark against Tyler.
“Doesn’t seem to be anyone out here now,” Rebecca said as they reached the area outside Amanda’s bedroom.
“It wasn’t my imagination-”
“Right. Whatever. I’m going back in. I’m freezing my ass off out here-I don’t carry as much weight as you do, you know, so I get cold faster.”
Amanda let her go. She needed a few minutes alone to prevent herself from booting Rebecca’s skinny frozen ass from here to Laguna.
Amanda decided she was going to walk back inside and tell them to leave tomorrow, and not to come back without an invitation. How would they like it if she just showed up out at their place in the desert? Not at all!
She stood in the darkness, silently composing a lecture. She envisioned delivering it, and…her shoulders sank.
She’d never do it. They were close to being the only family members she had left.
A light went on in one of the rooms of Derek’s-no, Tyler’s-house, then a moment later the house was dark again. Rebecca must have been wrong about Tyler being out of town.
She had better things to do than think about Tyler Hawthorne. She studied the ground near the window. She saw fresh tracks in the moist earth.
“A dog,” she whispered to herself, swallowing hard. “A big dog.”
She heard a rustling sound in the woods and whirled, bat at the ready. But the galoshes didn’t easily follow the motion, and she fell flat on her face in the dirt. She scrambled up in panic, bat held ready to swing, and tried to see beyond the area illuminated by the outdoor lights of her own house.
She could hear something moving through the trees. Running.
She braced herself for an attack, then realized the sounds were retreating.
The dog-if it was a dog-was racing uphill-away from her.
Suddenly, at the edge of the darkness, four figures appeared-two men, two women. Dressed in evening clothes.
Fear and anger caused her to stiffen every muscle.
She knew exactly who they were.
And knew they were long dead.
“Go away!” she shouted.
They disappeared just as she heard the front door open. Brad and Rebecca peered cautiously around the corner of the house.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she answered shakily. “Just a stray dog.”
They heard the roar of an engine, the squealing brakes and tires as a vehicle took the curve in the road just downhill from the house.
“Someone’s in a hurry,” Brad said.
Together, they walked back inside the house. She put up with their merciless teasing about her fear of dogs.
She closed the window and got back into bed. Tomorrow, she decided, she was moving up to the third floor.
She had nearly drifted off to sleep when she recalled the fright Brad had given her, and a question occurred to her. What had Brad been doing downstairs, creeping around in the dark, well after midnight?
Just before dawn, she awakened. The room was still dark, the blinds drawn, but she clearly saw four figures standing around her bed. Dressed, as they always were, the way they had been when she had last seen them alive. “Go away,” she whispered to her parents and aunt and uncle. She shut her eyes tightly and pulled the covers over her head. “It wasn’t my fault.”
When the air grew stuffy beneath the bedding, she peered out over the edge of the comforter.
They were gone.
It took a long time to fall asleep again.
7
Evan and Daniel slowly made their way down the concrete stairs. Daniel, in the lead, shielded the flame of a single candle, the only form of light they were allowed to use in there. He tried to hold his hands steady. This was difficult, given the state of his nerves. From the moment they had driven away from Hawthorne’s new home, Daniel had been aware of the stench of Evan’s fear, and felt sure that his own horror was equally apparent. Now, though, as they reached the bottom of the stairs, the scent of their fear was overcome by the basement’s own miasma of decay.
They stood side by side, trying to peer beyond the faint pool of candlelight.
A deep voice came from a far corner.
“Put out the candle.”
Daniel obeyed.
Surely one small flame had not warmed the room? But the complete darkness somehow felt colder.
“You’ve failed,” the voice said. “Is that not so?”
“Yes, my lord.”
There was a long silence. Daniel knew better than to offer information unless asked.
“Tell me what happened.”
“The dog was there, my lord.”
There was another silence, then the voice said, “Nonsense. He never travels without the dog.”
There wasn’t a chance in hell that Daniel was going to contradict him.
The next silence stretched on and on. Daniel began to shiver, not just from the cold.
“If the dog was in the house, it would have destroyed you as quickly as it destroyed Eduardo.”
Daniel felt sick to his stomach, remembering.
“So, Daniel, assuming you aren’t so foolish as to lie to me, how is it possible that the dog was there and yet you’re alive?”
“The dog wasn’t in the house, your lordship. I was searching the master bedroom when I happened to look out and see the animal running through the woods, toward the house.”
“And you could see a black dog in the darkness?”
“The neighbor’s lights were on. They might have had a motion sensor or something that picked up the dog’s movements. I don’t know, my lord.”
“Perhaps someone’s pet frightened you?”
“It moved-it moved very fast, my lord.”
Another silence stretched before the voice said, “Fortunately for the two of you, I still need your services. You will even have a little time to compose yourselves, to try to find your courage. Let’s test this idea of yours, that he travels now and again without the dog.”