Hanna looked at me. “He might not be able to leave.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond. “You can’t possibly mean—”
“I’m not talking about ghosts. I mean, he could be tied up or... I’m going in.” Hanna fumbled for the door handle.
I grabbed her before she could bolt. “Hanna, no.”
“We’ll call the police,” Marni suggested.
“And say what?” This woman had not learned her lesson. She’d been questioned and questioned again. She didn’t offer any information about her time with law enforcement after Patrick was found except to say her attorney handled everything. She also confirmed her affair with Patrick without offering details.
Thunk.
We jerked at the strange thud. A hand slapped against the car window next to Hanna.
Marni squealed.
A second muted bang, then a face appeared in the glass. A ghostly shadow with big eyes and a terrifyingly cold expression.
Aubrey.
The startled scream started deep in my belly and crept up to my throat.
“Holy shit!” Hanna would have shot into the back seat if she’d taken her seat belt off.
Marni pressed tight against the seat. She made her body small as she tucked it into the corner farthest from the window.
Hanna’s hand shook as she lowered the glass. I leaned across her to get a better look at Aubrey and check for obvious weapons.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Yelling didn’t ease the rush of nerves. My wild heartbeat made my chest ache.
“I was hoping you’d all visit.” Aubrey gestured toward the house. “You should come in.”
Talk about a nightmare. “No way.”
Before I could throw the locks or beg Hanna to drive off, Aubrey opened the driver’s side door.
Aubrey smiled. “Ladies, please. I insist.”
Chapter Forty-Five
Hanna
That old water leak had soaked into the walls and now a moldy smell hung over the entry. The pungent scent made my sinuses tingle. I held my hand over my nose and mouth to block the noxious stench. It permeated every inch of the entrance hall.
I moved the toe of my shoe around on the floor, hunting for the bloodstain that once marked the entrance. Evidence lost or covered by years of neglect. Replaced with layers of grime and garbage.
Time, trespassers, and ghost hunters left a mark. No one lived here. Not possible.
Aubrey walked into the entry hall like a real estate agent showing off a prime property. She turned to face us before reaching the bottom of the stairs. “Clearly, I need to redecorate.”
“Or knock the place down,” Stella mumbled.
The house had already started that process without any human help. Wallpaper peeled off the walls. The floor seemed to becovered in... What was that? I tried to focus, to keep my senses on high alert despite the stagnant air. The mystery came into view. Dead leaves. Forgotten papers. Curling edges of carpet. The part of the house meant to welcome people operated more as a flashingkeep outsign.
The staircase rose to a landing, then branched off to the right and left. The oppressive bleakness made it impossible to make out details. I could see the outline of a painting or a photo or something in a large frame at the top of that first set of steps. It used to be a massive family portrait. It could be anything now.
Xavier, how could you let this mess happen? You owed your son more than this.
