Chapter 21
When I awoke the house seemed to have fallen as silent as a mausoleum, the only light that of the streetlamps peering around the sides of the louvered blinds.
My gaze skittered around the unfamiliar room, gradually becoming aware of a ticking sound from the small brass carriage clock on top of the mantel.
Mardi’s reassuring snores came from beside me, his warm weight pressed against me.
The memory of the sodden footsteps returned, along with a numbing fear. I wasn’t afraid of Adele, I told myself. But I was terrified of the spirit that I’d seen in the rearview mirror before I’d crashed the car.
I tried to sit up, suddenly alert to an uncomfortable pressure in my bladder, but managed only to wedge my head and neck into an awkward position against the headboard.
I recalled, in my semi-lucid state, Jolene placing a silver bell on a small table by the side of the bed, with instructions to ring it if I required assistance.
I turned my head and spotted the glint of a reflection of the slender light from the window, highlighting the just-out-of-reach bell.
A noise like that of an animal rustling in the trash came from outside my door.
The image of the creepy baby doll moving stealthily toward me on its stiff hands and knees left me paralyzed.
I held my breath, wanting to hide my presence, but my heart hammered loudly enough to block out the soft ticking of the clock.
Using my elbows, I inched my shoulders higher on the headboard, being careful not to dislodge my splinted leg from the stack of pillows it rested on.
In desperation, and needing to draw a breath, I threw my hand out toward the bell.
My fingers brushed the cold metal, knocking it from the table, causing it to crash to the floor with a sharp clang.
Mardi lifted his head as the door flew open and the blinding overhead light snapped on. “Get out!” I shouted, hoping the anger in my voice hid the terror.
“Nola, it’s me. Beau.”
The overhead light shut off right before the bedside light flipped on, revealing his familiar face, albeit with bed head and chin stubble. Although I’d need to have my feet held over a fire to admit it out loud, I’d never been so happy to see anyone in my entire life.
“Beau,” I managed.
“Are you okay?” He touched my face with both hands before moving them down to my shoulders, his eyes doing a check of the rest of me, his concern turning my insides into warm putty.
“I heard something, and then I knocked over my bell trying to ring it.”
He returned the bell to the table, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “That was probably me. I set my pillow and blankets up on the floor outside your door so I could hear you if you needed anything.”
“You were sleeping on the floor?”
“Yeah. I drew the short straw.”
All the warm feelings I’d had moments before evaporated. “Just remember that at no point did I ask you to sleep on the floor, so don’t try to bring that up later in an argument. Where’s Jolene?”
“She took Sarah back to your apartment to sleep. Not to hurt your feelings or anything, but Sarah didn’t appear to be disappointed.”
“I’m sure.” I tried to sit up a little further, but my bladder made it clear that no unnecessary movements should be made if I didn’t want to embarrass myself. “What about Mimi and Camille?”
He glanced at the clock on the mantel. “It’s three twenty in the morning, so I’m guessing they’re both asleep upstairs.”
“Where you probably should be.” I looked at him closely. “You look terrible.”
“Thanks for that, Nola. Today was one of the worst days of my life, so it’s not entirely surprising.”
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t…” I shook my head, as if trying to rewind and start over. “What I meant to say is that I know losing a mother is tough. So if you ever need someone…” I gave him a one-shoulder shrug.
“Says the woman who still hasn’t forgiven me for saving her from a fire.”
“To the man who could have saved my guitar while I saved myself. I didn’t ask to be saved, remember. By you or anyone.”
“How could I forget? You remind me often enough. Maybe you can needlepoint it on a pillow and give it to me for Christmas just to make sure I remember.” He dropped down onto the edge of my bed, my bladder shifting uncomfortably. “So. How are you? Really.”
I might have still been feeling the effects of the painkillers, because my filters switched off and I began unloading my semi-dormant brain.
“I’m conflicted. There’s definitely something between Cooper and me, but I can’t commit to anything because I really don’t need the complications of a relationship in my life right now, not to mention that there’s that angry woman who hangs around him.
Who, according to Sarah, isn’t dead, whatever that means.
Then there’s you, but we don’t particularly like each other, and you’re as good as engaged to Sam.
I keep telling myself that I’m totally happy spending my energies on my day job and on the renovation of my house, but I’m not convinced.
Maybe I feel like I’m cutting myself off from possibilities?
Who knows? I would also like to find out what happened to your parents, and why your mom hasn’t left yet, and solve the mystery of the lady at the Esplanade house who smells like Youth-Dew perfume and feels the need to protect the ghost boy—and anyone else, really—from the evil guy who tried to kill me.
Except I can’t do any of that without you, and I think it’s best that we don’t spend too much time together, youknowwhatImean?
Of course, I don’t know how that will work, since we’re working together, doing the murder-house-flip thing, but we’re both adults.
I’m sure we can figure it out. And thanks for bringing Mardi. ”
It seemed as if he was trying not to laugh. He scratched himself behind an ear, just like Mardi. “I meant, how are you physically?”
The residual painkillers in my system did nothing to lessen my embarrassment. “Except for the ankle, I’m fine. A little shaken up, but otherwise okay.”
“Understandable. What about Cooper?”
“Shaken up, too, but I think he’s okay. It hasn’t changed his mind about the Esplanade house, if that’s what you’re thinking. Although he’s going to need your help cleaning out the negative energies.”
“I’m going to ask Uncle Bernie for a little insight into that case. He can at least go through the police files for a fresh look.”
“Good idea,” I said, yawning, the movement reminding me that my bladder was at full capacity.
I turned at the creak and pop of old wood outside the door. “Is anyone there?” I whispered loudly.
“No,” Beau answered, without bothering to look. “You know the drill. Old houses aren’t authentic unless the floors creak. When the weather turns cold it’s worse.”
I wanted to mention the sound of squelching footsteps I’d heard earlier, but I couldn’t be sure that it hadn’t been the painkillers. “Do you think Felicity will stick around after the funeral? At least until you have answers?”
“Probably not,” Felicity said as she pushed through the open door.
Her feet were bare, but she’d thrown on jeans and a sweater.
Static made pale hair strands undulate around her face like a Dr. Seuss character and made her appear much younger than she was.
“We’re really busy at work and I don’t think I can take more time off, or I probably would.
” She closed the door behind her without latching it.
“Sorry to interrupt, but it sounded like a couple of angry raccoons wrestling over a garbage can in here, so I decided to come down and investigate. I’m glad Mimi was able to sleep through it, but I thought Camille or Henry would beat me to it.
I’m a little slow moving when I first wake up. ”
“Me, too.” Beau’s palms rasped against his unshaven cheeks.
“I’m glad to see you,” I said. “I, uh…”
She held up her hand. “I get it. Beau, if you can help Nola out of bed, I can get her to the bathroom across the hall.”
I sent her a grateful smile as Beau pulled me up with an exaggerated groan, which I ignored.
Despite her petiteness, Felicity had no problem with me leaning on her as I hopped my way across the room after brushing away Beau’s offer of help.
“I got this,” she said. “I work for an auction house where there’s a lot of lifting and moving, so I’ve got major muscles. I’ve definitely lifted heavier crates.”
“Thanks,” I said. “You’ve got that Beau thing where compliments and insults are indistinguishable.”
“Must be hereditary,” Beau said with a grin. “But if you’re good, I’m going to go make myself a snack. I’ll ask Mardi if he wants to come with me, and I’ll bring something back in case anyone else is hungry. Just give me a shout if you need me.”
“Got it.” Felicity didn’t look up as she continued to propel me toward the bathroom.
With a nod toward where my jeans had been slit from the ankle to the knee, she said, “I guess you passed out before Jolene could change you into more comfortable clothes.” She grimaced. “I hope those weren’t your favorite jeans.”
“They were. Which was probably why Jolene chose them for alterations. Not that it matters. It doesn’t look like I’ll be wearing normal clothes for a while.”
“You’ll manage. You seem the type of person who doesn’t allow setbacks to become permanent.”
I looked at her. “Me? I would say the same about you.”
She shrugged. “Maybe. Michael says that you and I are a lot alike.”
“Does he? And I was about to say that you and I should be friends. But only if you don’t bring Michael up again.”
“Sore spot, huh?” She opened the bathroom door to allow me in first.
“Seriously? Has he told you about our relationship?”
“I know enough.”
“Great. Then you know why you should avoid mentioning his name in my presence.”