“You don’t eat eggs and sausage?” he asked, nodding toward her syrup soaked biscuit.
“Not often.”
Santiago ate silently and quickly.
In the time it took him to eat three biscuit sandwiches, she was still working on her first biscuit.
“Do you mind if I ask you a question, Sher?—”
He shook his head.
“—Santiago.”
He sat back and looked at her, waiting. Her tongue licked syrup from the corner of her mouth. Then she licked her fingers.
He didn’t want to feel something, but he knew her touch now, knew how her soft mouth felt against his flesh.
“Do you think the person that killed the Willobys’ mom is done killing?” she asked.
“I’m not having that conversation with you, Lauren.”
“I know, I know, but just hear me out because I’m not trying to be the next one dead. What’s the root of all evil?”
“Human beings.”
She rolled her eyes. “Money. Money is said to be the root of all evil.”
“And who uses money?” he asked.
“My pointis, maybe someone thought an old woman in a lakeside house had money. Maybe had some cash stashed away. When we were negotiating the sale of the house, Sherry Lynn said her mother always spoke of a special inheritance but everyone in the family took it as fiction because the Willobys were barely surviving. Sherry Lynn believed if her mother had large sums of money, there was no way she would not help her family.”
“Mrs. Willoby wasn’t the warm and fuzzy type, but I agree. There’s no way she would’ve had money and not helped her family. They were the only people she really cared about.”
“All I’m saying is, have you followed any money trails.Andif you need assistance, you’re sitting across from a woman who has made it her business to know money.”
He stared at her. For some reason it was suddenly important to view her as more than the bane of his existence.
“Why are you here, Lauren? And I don’t mean in my house or in my kitchen. Why are you here, in Shrouded Lake?”
She picked up her cup, slowly drinking before setting the cup back on the table. She stood. “You know where I am if you need me, Santiago. Have a good day.”
He followed her out of the house and onto the back porch, silently watching as she walked beside the water’s edge, heading home. Santiago knew he wasn’t being unreasonable in asking the question, but he also wasn’t a fool. He knew a woman on the run when he saw one, and from her sleep-time ramblings, he knew this Derrick played a big role in her being here. For reasons unknown to him, it suddenly became important that she be the one to tell him why.
Whoever said being in nature was peaceful and calming had seriously exaggerated that shit. For brief periods, sure, she could see it. Hiking a couple of hours, being beachside for an hour or two, exploring a cave; all of that was wonderful. Spirit and mind expanding. But she’d returned home from Santiago’s house over five hours ago, and to live in this shit without distraction, withoutdoinganything, her brain wasn’t wired for it. If anyone who knew her was to see her right now they’d think she was on meth. She couldn’t sit still, though there was nothing to do. And her mind wouldn’tshut.Up.
She was actually, right now, in her house talking to ghosts. And damned if those motherfuckers weren’t responding back. Knocks, movement, cold breezes when it was warm and damp outside. She was never alone here; she could feel it—unless she went to the bathroom. She didn’t know how she knew, she just knew that was the only space unseen eyes remained closed.
“I don’t know how you can stand it,” she called out from her seat on the toilet. She’d left the door open because she didn’t want to feel alone in there.
“I understand this is your home but damn, don’t you get bored, don’t you want to know what else is out there?” She rested her chin on her fist. “Could you leave if you wanted to?”
The ensuing silence seemed speculative, filling Lauren with a new sense of purpose. Cleaning herself, she stood, flushed the toilet, and washed her hands with the new rosemary and cedar hand wash she’d bought from Saige. She looked over her shoulder toward the empty door as she dried her hands.
“I’m gonna find out if I can help you move on. You don’t have to leave of course, but if you’re trapped, I want to help you get free, to help you find your peace. Then at least one of us can have it,” she muttered as she exited the bathroom. Walking down the hall she saw a large dark shape outside the screen door.
“Can I help you?” she asked, irritably.
“Who were you talking to?”
