Chapter Twelve
On the way home, Aria’sthoughts drifted from Rowena to Reece. When she pulled up into the driveway, her head buzzed as she got out of the vehicle. Reece’s actions, however immature, made her feel lighthearted inside. The urge to take note of Kelly’s advice and give him a break grew steadily. Maybe his garrulous attitude might help her forget the past and start living a normal life. Not forgetting the mind-blowing sex, she craved.
She ran up the front steps and stopped mid-stride. Her gaze fell on the door. It stood open. A sick feeling in the pit of her stomach made her queasy. Her heart rate spiked. She fought the rising panic—suddenly glad Kelly offered to bring Prisha home.
All horror fans knew an open door was never a good sign. But that only happened in movies. Reality involved subconscious anxiety; some might find it hard to control. Exactly how her insides roiled right now. Aria swallowed and neared the door. She paused, listened attentively while her tense fingers dipped inside her bag for her mobile.Shit.No service. She glared at her phone. Reception out here remained a constant nightmare. With a resigned breath, she stepped inside.
It’s not what you think. Jay isn’t here.The words played over and over in her head like her favorite song on a loop while her shaky legs carried her further into the foyer. She flicked the light switch. The living room brightened with the intensity of halogen globes down the passage. Hand in her bag, she followed the shape of the gun sitting snug in its secret compartment. Aria let her fingers play over the butt, ready for action should the need arise.
Her step cautious, she ventured into the kitchen first and then proceeded down the passage to her bedroom. She flicked the light switch and gave the room a quick scan. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary. Next, she checked Prisha’s room. Satisfied she was alone, Aria walked out and jumped when Prisha and Kelly came bounding down the passage.
“Mommy, see what I made for you.” Prisha handed her a photo frame made of cardboard and decorated with colored pasta. “All we need now is a photo of us.” The child giggled. “Do you like it?”
“Yes, sweetpea, it’s beautiful. We’ll look for a photo tomorrow. Now, go brush up and get ready for bed.”
“Geez, Aria, you’re as pale as a chicken about to be slaughtered.” Her friend chuckled as Prisha dashed off.
Aria laughed at the silly comparison while she tried to ease her tense tummy muscles. “The door was open, Kelly. I’m pretty sure I locked up before I left.”
Her friend instantly sobered. “Why didn’t you call me? Everything all right?”
“Yep. But I can’t for the life of me, remember...” she trailed off and moved to the fireplace. “...if I left the door open or not.”
“Maybe it wasn’t fully closed, and the wind pushed it open.”
Her friend’s words barely registered as Aria glanced from the mantelpiece to the television cabinet and back again. Her brow furrowed.
“Aria?”
She looked at Kelly. “This vase. It’s been moved.” She pointed to the blue and white pot sitting on the mantelpiece. Its usual place, on a shelf next to the television, now held the photographs that generally sat on the mantelpiece.
“Are you sure?”
Aria nodded. She scratched her head and tried to recall if she’d moved it when cleaning the day before. Her gaze traced a familiar pattern over each item in the living room. The guitar Prisha had hung when they moved in, remained in its spot between the two frames above the mantelpiece. The spiral flowerpot filled with peacock feathers she’d brought with her from Durban still sat in its corner. Nothing else seemed out of place. How long had she cleaned the same spots and never switched any items before? What if Jay moved her stuff?God, you’re seriously paranoid.
“Want me to call the chief?” her friend interrupted her train of thought. She referred to the town’s sheriff, who served as the fire chief as well.
Aria bit her lower lip, unsure whether to tell her friend her absurd thoughts. “No, it’s okay?”
