“Have you seen it before?” I ask.
“No. There aren’t too many houses out here, and it’s faster to get to the neighborhood down the road if you come from 500 South, not from our road, so something like this sticks out,” Richard answers. “I thought maybe they were looking for land for sale—we get that a lot. People want a piece of the pie out here. But three, now four, times in an hour is unsettling.”
“It is,” I agree. “Have you seen anything else out of the ordinary?”
Richard shakes his head. “I hope this doesn’t scare you off. We’re normally peaceful around here and everyone in this little neighborhood feels quite safe. That’s why we moved out here. The wife and I wanted a safer environment for the children.”
“Right. Safety is important, so if you see it again, I need you to call me,” I start, looking at his house. There’s a security camera above the porch and near the garage. “I’m a cop.”
Richard’s eyes flick over my body. I get that reaction a lot, actually. I’m tall and slender, athletic but not buff. My physical strength gets questioned every time I tell someone what I do for a living.
He smiles. “It’s nice having an officer of the law on our road.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket. “What division are you in? I have a buddy who’s on the force.”
“Homicide. I’m a detective,” I say, and give him my number. Jared crosses his arms, looking uncomfortable. The kid believes in gargoyles. I bet he believes in vampires, too, and I don’t want him going out looking for something that will rip him to shreds.
“Don’t go outside alone at night,” I say, eyes going right to Jared. “We’ve had a lot of calls lately about cars driving by houses with children after dark. Better safe than sorry, right? Best to stay inside and lock the doors.”
“I agree with you there. We’re headed out to pick up dinner and I think it’ll be a quiet night in for us.”
“Yay,” Jared says sarcastically, and rolls his eyes again.
“Be careful,” I direct to him. “And it was nice meeting you.”
“You, too. And if you ever need help with the house, I’m more than willing to lend a hand.” Richard smiles. “The time when your house was built is my area of expertise and I’d jump on any opportunity to help preserve the history of a structure so magnificent.”
“Thanks,” I tell him, and take a few steps back. Keeping my music off and my vigilance high, I start to my house again, running harder and faster than I should, and am out of breath and hotter than before by the time my feet hit the cobblestone path leading to the front door. Not wanting to get achy muscles from stopping too suddenly, I walk around the house and look at the yard.
The misty rain brings on fog, and with sunset quickly approaching, mutes the evening light. There’s a shed behind the house. It’s newer, put in by the last occupant of the house, according to the records I got at the bank. The dilapidated pile of splintering wood and shingles was the original barn to this place, and it looks like it’s been in a rotting heap for years. The chicken coop isn’t in bad shape, not that I’d ever have anything to do with it. I like to eat chicken, and I can’t eat an animal I’ve had in a little house in the backyard.
I roll my neck and stretch. My back is tight from stress, and I put one foot up on the step going to the back porch to try and stretch it out. It takes a while to get the knot to loosen enough to not be painful, and it’ll be good as new with a back rub. I subconsciously smile and feel a tingle between my legs when I think of the last massage I got.
“Is it sunset yet?” I ask, looking up at the roof. From this angle, I can only see the tips of Hasan’s wings. I walk backwards, keeping my eyes on my gargoyle, until I can see his face, twisted into something monstrous and set in stone.
Bending over to touch my toes in a final stretch before going inside to shower, I feel eyes on me. I snap up and turn around, suddenly unnerved. Taking a deep breath, I walk around to the front of the house. The fog is rolling in, getting thicker and thicker and harder to see through as the sun sinks lower in the sky.
“Hey, guys,” I say to Thomas and Gilbert, rounding the house and coming up to the front porch. I pull my key from the pocket on the back of my sports bra and stick it in the deadbolt.
And then I notice the scratches on the door frame and know right away what they’re from. Someone tried to break into the house.
23
Ihurry inside, shutting and locking the door behind me. I flick on the foyer lights and hurry through the house to get my gun and a wooden stake. I leave the others soaking in the holy water. My heart beats rapidly in my chest, both from the run and from adrenaline.
Handling this like any other case, I do a quick check of the house, starting with the front. It’s too large to comb through perfectly. Someone could easily be in here, moving from room to room without me ever seeing them.
The front door was locked when I came home, just how I’d left it. The windows are locked and the other exterior doors downstairs are shut and locked, as well. I go up the rear stairs and head into the master bedroom first. The windows over the porch might not be locked, and my heart beats a little faster the closer I get.
The last I remember was opening them to talk to Jacques. I cannot for the life of me recall locking them again. I push back the lace curtain. Thank God. I locked them. I check the rest of the house, turning on lights and feeling way too exposed.
Not every room has curtains, and with the lights on, it’s easy to see in. And whoever is watching me is outside. I can feel it. I go back into the bedroom, the only room with curtains, and sit on the foot of the bed. I need a plan, but having no idea what I’m up against is a bit of a hindrance.
I carefully press the tip of the wooden stake against my finger to test the sharpness. My skin prickles, and I’m getting more and more anxious for nightfall. I want to kill these motherfuckers and end this once and for all. I go to the window, looking at the sky.
Then my phone rings, and theStar Warstheme song echoes through the large house. Having left my phone downstairs in the living room, it’s a wonder I can hear it up here. I hurry down the stairs and pick it up, seeing whoever is calling is from work.
“Detective Bisset,” I answer.
“Hi, Detective. It’s Jane Simons. I ran the name you gave me through the system.”