“You shouldn’t have. I’m a coward, ask any of my friends.”
“But an honest coward, at least.” She intertwined the fingers of her hand with his and stared at the floor. Years ago, she had witnessed a brave man turn into an enraged beast. She would take a kind coward over a violent “brave” man any day.
The lobby grew quiet, and they silently enjoyed each other’s company until the police officers returned from their search.
“The place is clean,” Paulette said. “Literally and figuratively.”
Evelyn nodded as she stood. “Thank you for taking the time to look around. I wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight if you didn’t.”
Paulette nodded. “This sort of thing happens—some guys get a kick out of watching normal people live their lives. It’s the first time I’ve seen it here in Wilfred, but there was a report of a trespasser in Nicholasville last week. It might even be the same guy, and I doubt you’ll ever see him again. But just in case, keep an eye out for anything suspicious and make sure to arm the security system as soon as we leave.”
Evelyn hugged herself. “I will.”
Paulette tipped her hat and led the young officer outside. A moment later, the red and blue lights stopped flashing, and the police cruiser rolled away.
Alek strolled across the lobby with his hands in his pockets. “I should get going. But I can give you a ride home, if you’d like.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I’m going to stay here tonight—for the guests.”
He nodded his understanding and stepped onto the porch. “We should do this again sometime.”
“Definitely. And next time, you can pick the place.”
“How about here? Sure, there’s a risk of being spied on by Death’s little brother, but I like it here.”
Evelyn took out her phone and held it up. “I’ll try to check my phone more often.” She tapped a button, then frowned.
“What is it?”
She shook her head slowly. “I don’t know.” The call log listed eleven missed calls from her mother, and a single text message that read: I need to talk to you. In person.
10
A wave of nostalgia washed over Evelyn as she approached her childhood home. Memories, both good and bad, ran through her mind like a silent movie. She wrung her hands, pinching off the blood flow until her digits turned bone-white. She hadn’t been to this street since the day after her eighteenth birthday, when she moved out and didn’t look back. She rarely spoke to her mother, begrudgingly accepting calls on holidays, and they had only met in person twice in the past ten years. Maureen Jameson would never ask to meet in the middle of the night if she didn’t have something important to say.
The blue Hyundai eased into the short driveway, its headlights revealing a fresh coat of paint on the garage door. Candace put the car in gear and killed the motor. “Do you want me to come in with you?”
Evelyn shook her head. “I’ll be alright. Do you mind waiting out here? I’m sure this won’t take long.”
Candace hit a button on the stereo, filling the car with punk-rock music. She always listened to upbeat music when studying or reviewing clinical notes. “Take as much time as you need. I have some paperwork to look over.”
“Thanks. You’re a lifesaver.” Evelyn got out of the car and shut the door, sealing the whine of an electric guitar within. She strode up the sidewalk, her spine unnaturally stiff. The moonlit lawn was neatly trimmed, and bags of grass clippings leaned against each other next to the curb. The dried leaves had been removed from the flower beds, and someone had pruned the juniper bushes.
Evelyn snorted and shook her head. I don’t remember the house looking this tidy when I lived here. She opened the screen door, which didn’t whine on its hinges like it used to, and she gave two quick knocks on the interior door. As she waited, she glanced at Candace, who gave her two thumbs-up.
Alek had offered to give Evelyn a ride to her mother’s house, but she turned him down. He had been through enough drama for one night, and she couldn’t justify putting him through more. Plus, the thought of him meeting her mother made her sick. Thankfully, Candace was off work and came to her aid without question.
A splinter of light spilled onto the concrete step and widened into a bright column. Maureen stood in the doorway, her face drawn and her eyes dancing as she surveyed the sleepy street. She thrust the door the rest of the way open and, without a word, ushered Evelyn into the house.
To Evelyn’s surprise, the inside of the house was as clean and orderly as the outside. Her mother had never been tidy by nature; throughout Evelyn’s childhood, the home had been reasonably clean but always cluttered. “The, uh, house looks nice.” It was the only pleasantry she planned to offer, so she got to the point. “What’s going on, Maureen?”
Maureen closed the door and locked the deadbolt. She pulled the curtain open a few inches and watched the street. “It’s nice to see you, too, Evelyn.” Ten seconds passed before she let go of the curtain. Then she faced her daughter and spread an open hand toward a recliner. “Would you like to sit down?”
“No thanks. Candace is waiting for me in the driveway, so I can’t stay long.”
The lines in Maureen’s face deepened with disappointment. “Very well. I’ll make this quick—I called you over because I heard about what happened at the mansion.”
Evelyn pinched the bridge of her nose. Wilfred was a small town, but she hadn’t expected the word to spread so fast. “Have you been listening to the police scanners again?”
“No, I haven’t.” The corner of Maureen’s mouth twitched. “But only because they use encrypted radios now. Actually, Paulette called me.”
Evelyn felt a sting of betrayal. “She called you? When?”
“Before she reached the mansion, and again after she left.” She placed her hands on her hips. “Paulette and I don’t see eye-to-eye on certain things, but I’m your mother, and she respects that.”
Evelyn rolled her eyes. “You mean Paulette thinks violent criminals should rot in prison, and you don’t?”
Maureen held her daughter’s fierce gaze. “I think justice was served, and that’s all I’m going to say about that. Evelyn, I need to talk to you about what you saw today—the man watching you through the window.”
She shrugged. “He didn’t hurt anyone, and Paulette doesn’t think he’ll come back.”
“I’m glad to hear that. But the thing is…” Maureen turned away and rubbed her palms against her thighs. She stopped behind a sunbleached sofa and rested her hands on the back. “Something important has happened recently, and I’m worried you’ll make the wrong connection, jump to the wrong conclusion.” She pinched her eyes shut. “Your father was released from prison last week.”
Evelyn’s mouth went dry. She tried to speak, and her voice cracked. Licking her lips, she tried again, and the words came out thick and coarse. “He’s out? And you didn’t bother to tell me?”
“I didn’t think it mattered. You said yourself that you never wanted to see him again.” Disdain entered her voice, and she added, “I thought you meant it; you never once visited him while he was in that awful place.”
“I did mean it.” Her eyes narrowed. “Are you covering for him again? Was it him outside the window?”
Maureen waved the words off. “Of course not. Your father would never do something like that. Besides, he was with me all afternoon.”