“But that woman?—”
“Fuck Mrs. Klein.” I was getting truly angry now, but I couldn’t help it. The house seemed to loom over me, pressing on every nerve. I wanted out of there, but I wanted to prove I was stronger than any kind of demon filth. Needed it, like a choking man needed air. “This is the deal. I’ll go through the house with you to get the details, then fake a pre-death meeting between you and Mordechai, write it up and forge the rabbi’s name, and you can do with that whatever you want. But that’s it, Max. If that’s not enough, you can take your money back, and I’ll leave right now.”
“No.” Max reached out, stopping himself before he grabbed my arm again. I didn’t flinch back, but I had to fight not to flee down the steps, and clearly, he realized it. “Don’t go. That’s fine.” He pulled his arm back awkwardly, brushing a hand through his hair. “It’s fine. I guess we should get started then.”
He turned to the front door, and we heard another childish scream. This one seemed strangely normal though, as if I was already getting used to Sam and his outbursts. Now the little boy stood at the edge of the open doorway to the barn, staring up at the house. He clenched his fists into little boy rage and stood stiff as a tree trunk. Even from this distance, I could see him practically vibrating with fury.
“No!” he yelled, then tried again, this time stretching out the word in one long, protracted wail. “Nooooo!”
Max turned back to me. “I guess you have a fan.”
I managed a lopsided grin. “Kids are my specialty.”
We walked into the house. I didn’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t a light and bright farmhouse with wide windows and airy spaces. The walls were all painted in soft pastels, and the floors were hardwood, covered for the most part by huge cream-colored rugs, some with faded patterns, some more modern. The house seemed empty, but not abandoned.More…waiting for a chance to strike. Like a ghoul hiding behind a butterfly bush.
“You and Sam live here alone, now?” I asked, just to break the silence. “The others all left?”
Max snorted a short laugh. “Oh, God no,” he said. “Everyone’s waiting for you to take the tour, then we’ll talk a little on the back porch.”
I stared at him. “Your family knows why I’m here?”
He glanced down at me. He seemed taller in the house than he had outside. “I told them you were coming, and why, yes. When they’re fine, they’re fine. They’re open to finding out answers too.”
“Oh. I mean, sure.” I smiled brightly. “Of course they are.”
Max took me through the entire house, which looked eerily similar to my own place in one distinct way: how clean it was. “You said the housekeeper moved out?”
“In April, yeah. I have a service that comes out once a week, or I did until this past week. Then even that…” He shrugged. “Something happened, I don’t know what. But the service called and left a voicemail. Said they wouldn’t be able to come back. That I didn’t owe them for the remaining visits.”
“That’s why you came to see Mordechai in person.”
His jaw tightened. “It’s going to get out. Someone’s going to talk, and I thought if I handled it—if it was taken care of…” He stopped, shook his head as his gaze shifted to the far wall, as if seeing all the way out to the back porch. “I have to fix this, somehow.”
He led me up the grand staircase. Half the doors to the upstairs rooms were closed. Max opened them without hesitation, but the rooms inside were as tidy as the rest of the house. All except one room, anyway. I knew something was up by the way Max opened the door.
I looked inside, seeing the issue immediately. The guest bathroom was spotless except for the mirror. Someone had written MISS ME? in dusky red ink on the glass, then scrubbed at it—the words were faded but still legible. “This was two weeks ago,” Max said flatly. “I keep cleaning it. It keeps coming back.That’swhen I decided to contact Rabbi Mordechai. I didn’t want to think about what might get written next.”
“Yeah.” I grimaced. “I get that.”
He gestured down the hallway. “My room’s down there. It’s messy, but ordinary messy. Sam’s been staying with me. It seems to chill him out, but he doesn’t like me to straighten up.” His smile was crooked, the first normal-guy smile I’d seen on him. “I figure it’s one less room to clean now.”
I nodded. So Max was the one who kept the place clean. Made sense. “Where did he sleep before?”
Max headed down the hallway, where another door stood half open. That seemed to bother him. “I thought…”
He pushed the door open all the way and stepped back. “Sam’s room. I’m sorry about the state it’s in, but I wanted to keep it the way it was—so that you could see it. I’ve taken pictures, and I’ll clean it all up afterwards. I just…I just wanted someone to see it.”
I swallowed down my sense of revulsion and stepped inside.
Oh…shit.
Literally.
Chapter
Fourteen
Sam’s room contained a bed, a dresser, and little else. But the walls made up for it. Crayon markings and the remains of dried feces decorated every surface. All the windows stood open, and enormous fans faced the outside, taking most of the stench away. Most, but not all.
