Santiago didn’t like the way the sun made her brown skin glow, so he concentrated on the interior of the half empty vehicle.
“It’ll come out soon enough, but can you give me your word that right now this stays between us?”
“I give my word.”
“It appears Ms. Willoby didn’t die of natural causes.”
“She was killed?”
“More like she was helped along on her final journey.”
“Here?”
He nodded.
She shook her head, looked around the yard in confusion.
“I’m actually a good person,” she said. “I am agoodperson,” she insisted, stabbing the air between them. “I haven’t done anything to justify the fucked-up shit life has been flinging at me with maniacal intensity. I came to terms with living in a house cloaked in ghost tales, but to learn that the last owner was possibly murdered, in a house I just bought outright…”
“Wait, you bought the house? You’re not just renting?”
She laughed bitterly, then took a steadying breath. “How can I help?”
“Are there any areas of the house that haven’t undergone any renovations, any items the Willobys left behind?”
“They didn’t seem to touch the attic. There’s a lot of stuff up there that hasn’t been touched in a while.”
“Some of those things might not belong to the Willoby’s. The man who owned it prior to Mrs. Willoby hanged himself up there.”
“More people are leaving Shrouded Lake than coming these days. Why did you choose to buy?”
“I’m sure my reasons are my own. I’ll take you to the attic and if you don’t find anything in there, feel free to go through the stuff in the old shed; they left it so full I couldn’t put anything in there if I wanted.”
He followed her to the second floor, stepping around her to release the stair ladder to the attic.
Resting his hip on the side, he smiled at her.
“You’re here for vengeance aren’t you? To get back at me?”
“That would be insane,” she said dryly.
He grinned. “It would be insane; glad we both agree.”
“You’re wearing out your welcome, Sheriff.”
“I’ll be outta your hair in a few, Ms. Green.” He smiled, heading up the rickety stairs.
“Everything okay up here, Lauren?”
Santiago paused, ducking down to see the man who’d addressed his neighbor with the protectiveness of a lover.
“Everything’s, fine Sam. The sheriff’s just making sure I don’t have any bats in the belfry.”
“Oh, you’ve got bats, you got a damn Dracula coffin full of them,” he muttered. She tried to cause him grave bodily injury by grabbing his ankle and pulling, but he shook her off and continued to climb.
“Sam, amigo,” he called back. “If you value your life, you will leave this place as soon as your work is done. The hellion will eat you alive and no one would ever find your bones.”
“No need to try and scare me off, Sheriff. I was just coming to tell Lauren the security system is up and running.”
