“That scared my bejeepers, Mama,” Henry said, panting theatrically, palm against his chest.
I laughed. “You mean it scared the bejeepers out of you?”
“No, ma’am,” he said, solemnly shaking his head. “They’re still in me. I canfeel’em.”
I laughed again, forgetting my worries and allowing myself to enjoy my son’s unintentional humor. “Okay, if you say so. Why don’t we just throw this stuff away? We’ll get you some new soap and shampoo and maybe even some bubble bath. Sound good?’
“Yes, ma’am!” he said, his excited grin returning. “Can David use it too?”
I cleared my throat, which had gone tight at the mention of Henry’s new “friend” and glanced over my shoulder to the empty hallway. “Uh, sure. Yeah.”
“He’s not in the hallway,” Henry told me, rolling his eyes as he grabbed my hand and led me out of the bathroom. “Let’s check my room.”
My skin prickled in warning, and I resisted, pulling him toward me. “You can tell him later. Let’s go to the market so we can get back in time for pizza.”
As I ushered Henry from the hallway, I sent a glance over my shoulder again, half-expecting to see someone standing behind me. From the corner of my eye, for just a fraction of a second, I thought I noticed the shadows shift slightly, growing darker, longer, creeping closer.
Not waiting to see what happened next, I scooped up Henry, ignoring his protest, and rushed to the apartment door, praying nothing was waiting on the other side.
Chapter four
“You live here?”
I turned from juggling two grocery bags and the slip of paper with the front-door code Chase had given me. A guy holding a stack of pizza boxes stood at the bottom of the steps.
“Yeah,” I said. “I can let you in to drop those off. I assume they’re for Chase Crawford?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He hurried up the steps and somehow took my grocery bags from me without dropping the pizzas. I keyed in the code, shielding the numbers with my hand—just in case the pizza guy wasn’t quite the gentleman he seemed.
“Where you want me to put these, ma’am?” the guy asked.
I glanced around the lobby, looking for other tenants, but no one else was around. “Uh, just there on the desk, I guess.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a nod, setting the boxes on the corner of the desk, casting a nervous look around, then handing me back my grocery bags and rushing for the front door. “Y’all have a good night.”
“Weird,” I murmured, thrown by his urgency. He’d looked like he couldn’t wait to get out of the house as he raced down the steps “like his hair was on fire and his ass was catchin’,” as my elderly neighbor Ms. Reba used to say.
I could relate. Maybe he sensed something, too. Unfortunately, unlike him, I couldn’t run away.
Determined not to let my imagination run wild in the old house, I took Henry’s hand and headed toward the elevator. Henry reached for the button justas the doors slid open, revealing a young woman dressed in workout clothes and running shoes, dark coils of hair framing a beautiful face.
She offered Henry and me a friendly smile as she removed her earbuds. “Hi there!” she greeted, stepping out of the elevator. “You must be Zellie. Chase told me we had new folks moving in.”
I returned her smile. “Hi. Yeah. I’m Zellie Dupont, and this is my son Henry.”
“Would you like some help with those bags?” she asked, taking one from me before I could respond and stepping back inside the elevator. “You’re up on the fourth floor, right?”
I shook my head as we stepped into the elevator, delighted and a little confused, not used to having help. “Yeah, thanks.”
“I’m Merilee Vaughn, by the way,” she told me after Henry pressed the button. “I live on the third floor, right below you.”
“I thought Mr. Dean lived below us,” I replied.
Merilee offered me a mischievous grin. “Met him already, have you?”
I laughed, deciding I liked Merilee, particularly the playful twinkle in her eye that made me think she was the kind of person everyone would want for a best friend. “Came banging on my door earlier,” I admitted. “He wanted to make sure my ‘crumb-snatcher’ wasn’t running around all night. Because that’s what five-year-olds do—run around all night. It’s quite a party at our place.”
Merilee chuckled. “That sounds like Mr. Dean.” As the elevator doors opened, she added, “He likes to complain about everything, but he’s harmless.”
