Chapter 7 #2
After the contest, they found Ruth holding court near the cider stand, surrounded by admirers congratulating her on her judging prowess.
“There you are!” she exclaimed when she spotted them. “I was beginning to think you’d snuck off to find some privacy.”
Faith felt her cheeks warm. “We wouldn’t miss your big moment.”
“Mmm-hmm,” Ruth said knowingly. “Edward’s here to take me home. I’m absolutely exhausted from all this excitement.” She winked at Faith, removing any doubt about her true motives. “You two should stay and enjoy the rest of the festival. I believe the haunted courthouse is open until midnight.”
Jake shot his grandmother a look that Faith couldn’t quite interpret. “Are you sure you don’t want us to drive you?”
“Positive,” Ruth said firmly. “Edward and I have things to discuss. Costume contest politics. Very complicated.”
Before either could protest, Ruth had kissed them both on the cheek and disappeared into the crowd once more, this time on the arm of her dignified driver.
“She’s not subtle, is she?” Faith asked with a laugh.
“Subtlety has never been in the Murphy family vocabulary,” Jake admitted. “So, what do you think? Haunted courthouse?”
Faith glanced at the imposing structure at the end of the street. The historic courthouse had been transformed into a multi-level haunted attraction, with cobwebs draping from columns and eerie lights flickering in the windows.
“I should warn you,” she said seriously. “I’m a screamer.”
Jake’s eyes crinkled at the corners, a smile playing at his lips. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, his voice low enough that only she could hear it.
The line for the haunted courthouse moved quickly. As they approached the entrance, Faith felt a strange prickling sensation at the back of her neck. She glanced over her shoulder, scanning the crowd, but saw nothing unusual—just festivalgoers enjoying the evening.
Yet the feeling persisted as they entered the dimly lit building. The volunteer at the door, dressed as a Victorian undertaker, handed them each a small flashlight.
“Stay on the marked path,” he intoned dramatically. “And remember—the dead don’t always stay buried in Hollow Elm.”
The first floor had been transformed into a haunted mansion, with period furniture draped in sheets, portraits with moving eyes, and volunteers jumping out from hidden alcoves.
Faith found herself pressing closer to Jake with each new scare, clutching his arm and burying her face against his shoulder whenever something particularly startling occurred.
Jake, she noticed, seemed more amused by her reactions than frightened by the attractions. His arm remained securely around her waist, his body a solid presence against the manufactured terrors.
“Having fun?” he asked as they climbed the stairs to the second level, which had been decorated as a mad scientist’s laboratory.
“Absolutely,” she admitted. “Though I think I’ve left finger-shaped bruises on your arm.”
“Worth it,” he said simply.
The second floor proved even more elaborate than the first, with bubbling beakers of colored liquid, strobe lights creating disorienting effects, and volunteers in lab coats who lunged at them from behind operating tables.
Faith screamed and laughed in equal measure, feeling like a teenager on her first date.
As they neared the exit of the laboratory section, Faith felt that prickling sensation at the back of her neck again—stronger this time, like someone was staring directly at her. She glanced over her shoulder, seeing nothing but other festivalgoers moving through the attraction.
“You all right?” Jake asked, noticing her unease.
“Fine,” she said, forcing a smile. “Just jumpy.”
They turned a corner into a dimly lit corridor where a volunteer dressed as a deranged doctor stood beside an operating table.
Unlike the other performers who lunged at passing visitors, this one remained perfectly still, watching them approach.
Something about his posture—the stillness, the intensity—made Faith’s skin crawl.
The doctor stepped forward, holding what appeared to be a bloody heart. “A gift for the lady,” he said in a voice that sounded oddly familiar despite the distortion.
“No thank you,” Faith said politely, trying to move past.
The doctor stepped directly into her path. “But I picked it out specially for you. Listen—it’s still beating.” He squeezed the prop heart, which emitted a wet, rhythmic pulsing sound.
Jake’s posture shifted subtly, moving slightly in front of Faith. “We appreciate the offer,” he said firmly, “but we need to keep moving.”
For a moment, the doctor didn’t budge. Then he tilted his head in an odd, birdlike motion and stepped aside. As Faith passed, his gloved hand brushed against her arm—a touch that lingered just a second too long to be accidental.
Faith stumbled, a chill racing down her spine. Jake’s arm immediately tightened around her waist, steadying her.
“You okay?” Jake asked, concern evident in his voice.
“Fine,” she said, her heart hammering against her ribs. “Just startled. These people are good at their jobs.”
Jake glanced back at the doctor, who had already turned his attention to the next group of visitors. “Maybe a little too good.”
The final floor of the haunted courthouse was designed as a graveyard, with tombstones and fog machines creating an appropriately spooky atmosphere.
But Faith barely registered the decorations or the volunteers dressed as zombies emerging from behind monuments.
Her mind was fixed on that voice, the uncomfortable familiarity of it.
As they exited into the cool night air, Jake studied her face. “You sure you’re okay? You went pretty pale back there.”
Faith forced a smile. “Just too much sugar and excitement. Nothing serious.”
Jake didn’t look entirely convinced, but he didn’t press the issue. “What do you say we call it a night? I think we’ve had our fill of Halloween spirits.”
“That sounds good,” Faith agreed, eager to put some distance between herself and the courthouse.
They walked in comfortable silence back toward the parking area, the festival sounds fading behind them. Jake’s truck was parked beneath a towering maple tree whose leaves had turned a brilliant crimson. Moonlight filtered through the branches, creating dappled patterns on the hood.
“I had a great time tonight,” Faith said as they reached the vehicle, suddenly shy.
Jake stepped closer, his eyes reflecting the silver moonlight. “Me too.”
He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering against her cheek. Faith’s breath caught as he leaned in, and this time there was no interruption as his lips met hers.
The kiss was gentle at first, almost tentative, as though he was giving her a chance to pull away. When she didn’t, his arms encircled her waist, drawing her closer as the kiss deepened. Faith’s hands found their way to his shoulders, then slid up to thread through his hair.
Time seemed to suspend itself as they stood beneath the autumn moon, wrapped in each other’s arms. The kiss was everything Faith had tried to convince herself it wouldn’t be—perfect, intoxicating, and terrifyingly right.
When they finally parted, both slightly breathless, Jake rested his forehead against hers. “Worth the wait,” he murmured.
Faith could only nod, her heart racing too fast for coherent speech.
The drive back to her house was quieter than their journey to the festival.
Faith found herself checking the rearview mirror repeatedly, scanning for headlights that might be following too closely.
Jake seemed to sense her unease, reaching across to take her hand, his thumb tracing soothing circles against her skin.
When they arrived at the house, Jake insisted on walking her to the trailer door despite her assurances that she would be fine.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked, his voice soft in the darkness.
“I’d like that,” Faith replied, surprised by how much she meant it.
He leaned in for one more kiss, shorter but no less potent than the first. “Sweet dreams, Faith.”
She watched him walk back to his truck, waiting until his taillights disappeared down the street before entering the trailer. The warmth of their kiss still lingered on her lips as she flipped on the light, dropped her purse on the counter, and shrugged off her coat.
That’s when she saw it.
A small gift box sat in the center of her temporary desk.
Faith froze, her blood turning to ice. The trailer had been locked—she was certain of it. She’d checked twice before they left for the festival. Her eyes darted to the windows, all secure with no signs of forced entry.
With trembling fingers, she approached the package. It was wrapped in glossy black paper with a red ribbon, elegant and expensive looking. No card, no note.
She should call Jake. She should call the police. She should do anything except what she was about to do.
Faith untied the ribbon and carefully removed the wrapping paper. Inside the box, nestled on a bed of black velvet, lay a delicate silver charm bracelet. A single charm dangled from the links—a tiny silver heart.
Attached to the bracelet was a small card with a handwritten message:
So I can always be close to your heart. You looked beautiful tonight.
Faith dropped the bracelet as if it had burned her. The implications were clear—someone had been in her private space, someone who had seen her at the festival tonight.
She rushed to check the locks on the door and windows, drawing all the curtains with shaking hands. Only when she was certain everything was secure did she retrieve the bracelet from where it had fallen.
The workmanship was exquisite, the silver gleaming in the low light. It wasn’t a cheap trinket but an expensive piece from a high-end jeweler. Which meant her admirer wasn’t just persistent—he had resources.
Faith wrapped the bracelet in a tissue and tucked it into her desk drawer. Tomorrow she would take it to the police, report the break-in, show them the note she’d received earlier. She would take proper precautions, maybe even hire security.
But tonight, as she changed into her pajamas and crawled into bed, she couldn’t shake the feeling of violation. Her private space had been invaded, her sense of security shattered. Somewhere out there, someone was watching, waiting, planning their next move.
Faith pulled the covers up to her chin, listening to the wind blow eerily through the tree branches. The memory of Jake’s kiss, which should have left her floating on air, now felt distant and overshadowed. For the first time since moving in, she wished she weren’t quite so alone.