Читать книгу The Good Girl - Christy Barritt - Страница 7

Lying in bed the next morning, I watched as gray turned to orange outside. The tropical colors eventually morphed into a hazy, lazy white. I remained under the covers, wishing I’d doze off again.

My head felt as if it were stuffed with tiny lead beads. When I’d finally drifted off to sleep, somewhere around 2:30, Gaga had jumped in bed with me. Of course, I’d thought it was an attacker. My heart raced for the rest of the night, yet some invisible chain had kept me in bed and unable to move.

I glanced around Lana’s room again. The white did look pleasant in the sunlight. In the daytime, everything seemed so much friendlier and my fears seemed so unfounded. Still, there was the butcher knife, the note, the supposed ectoplasm, and the squeaky gate. Add that to my already-in-place fears, and I was done for.

Gaga barked at my feet. “What? You need to go outside?”

She barked again. I threw on some shorts and a robe and followed Gaga to the backdoor. The morning sunlight looked so glorious that I couldn’t resist stepping outside.

My gaze meandered over the grass and patio set and garage. My perusal skidded to a halt when I saw the gate. The open gate. The noises last night hadn’t been my imagination. Someone really had been in the backyard. A shiver zinged up my spine.

I walked barefoot down the brick sidewalk and closed the gate, thankful I’d followed the dog outside. Otherwise, Gaga might have run away and Lana would never forgive me. Sure, my sister acted like the dog was an accessory half of the time, hauling her around in rhinestone-studded bags and buying her designer clothing. Sometimes I thought Paris Hilton was her role model. But I did think that deep inside, the dog was Lana’s baby. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have left me a note, asking me to tell Gaga a bedtime story every night—not that I would ever actually do that.

I had closed the gate yesterday, hadn’t I? I stared at the latch, remembering how difficult it was to force down. Yes, I’d definitely closed it.

And some ghost had opened it while I was sleeping.

“Good morning.”

I half-gasped, half-screamed and threw myself back toward the house. My foot landed on a sharp rock in the process. I grabbed it, rubbing the indention. When I looked up, Cooper stared at me from the fence, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t,” I started. I dropped my foot and shook my head. “Well, you did, but not by any fault of your own.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”

I nodded and pulled the robe closer. Though I was wearing shorts and a tank top, I felt exposed. “Fine. You?”

“Just enjoying some coffee and watching the sunrise.”

“You’re an early riser, huh?” When I stepped outside, it had been nine a.m. The sun probably rose three hours ago, at least.

“It’s ingrained from my days as an Army Ranger.”

I nodded. “You seem like a special ops guy.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Cooper raised his chunky blue mug to his lips and took a sip. I needed some coffee, I realized. As soon as possible, for that matter. It was my wonder drug, just as addictive as all those other substances I’d cautioned those younger than myself to stay away from. My urge to pump some caffeine into my system nearly had me plotting to snatch away Cooper’s to take a sip. A good girl would never, ever do something like that, though, as per rule number 41. We’d just fantasize about it instead.

Cooper tilted his head, his eyes still twinkling.

“A little of both,” I finally answered.

He chuckled. “At least you’re honest.”

I pulled my arms over my chest and drank in the fresh morning air. “Nice neighborhood. You said there’d been some break-ins?”

“A few, which is unusual for this area. I’ve always felt safe. I know you might have a totally different impression based on your start here. That’s generous that you can dog sit for your sister. Your job must be very forgiving.”

If he only knew. “That’s the nice part about having the summer off from teaching.” It was true. I was a teacher, and I did have the summer off. But I’d also been fired prior to that. I cleared my throat. “How about you? What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a security systems analyst. I test out security systems to see if they’re as solid as they claim to be.”

“Sounds interesting.”

He smiled. “I enjoy it.”

I cleared my throat, knowing I needed to ask him something that might make me sound like a lunatic. I decided to ask anyway. “You didn’t go in my backyard last night, did you? Like at midnight or a little past?”

“I try not to make it a point to sneak into my neighbor’s backyards at night.”

“Is that a no?”

He smiled. “It’s a no. Why?”

Because a ghost just might be haunting this place after all. I didn’t say that, though. Instead, I shrugged. “Just wondering.”

“Maybe your friend opened the gate when he left last night.”

All moisture vanished from my throat. My eyes. My entire head, for that matter. “My friend?”

His smile disappeared, and he squinted, almost as if he were trying to read me. “I saw someone leave your porch, probably around eleven or twelve. He didn’t appear to be sneaking around or acting suspiciously, so I thought you’d had someone over.”

My hand went to the fence. I had to hold on to something so I wouldn’t fall over from the fear that threatened to seize each of my muscles. Cooper must have thought I was a party animal like Lana. Not me. “I’m not like my sister, and I don’t know anyone in Minnesota.”

His blue eyes remained on me a moment, again appearing like he was trying to figure me out. Finally, he nodded slowly and decisively. “Considering everything else that’s happened since you’ve been here, I’d be careful, Tara.” There was no tease or lightness to his voice. No, this man I hardly knew looked genuinely concerned.

That realization caused chills to whiz up my spine.

What if someone had found me here? What if they were trying to scare me off, to get me out of their safe little neighborhood? Was that what this was all about?

I cleared my throat. “So this man...he just walked off my porch? Did it look like he came from inside?”

“I couldn’t tell.” He shook his head sympathetically.

My childhood fears seemed to come to life. “Okay, I’m sufficiently freaked out now. What should I do?”

He tilted his head. “Get a security system.”

I sighed. Cooper probably had just the right one to recommend to me, too.

~*~

I’d spent most of the day catching up on my work as a virtual assistant. Since leaving the school where I’d taught, I’d been helping my father with his radio show and my uncle with his mission organization. I did things like Twitter updates, blog entries, and other online campaigns. The work had kept me out of the public eye, allowed me to earn some money, and gave me something to occupy my thoughts. I’d continue working while I was here in Minnesota.

After I’d finished my work to-do list, I’d cleaned out Lana’s refrigerator, dusted the house, and swept her wood floors. I’d opened the windows and let fresh air flood inside. I’d done crossword puzzles and taken a shower.

It was only five o’clock, and I was completely out of ideas of what else to do, so I sat at Lana’s kitchen table with a half-eaten peanut butter sandwich in front of me. Two dead yellow daisies had begun to wilt in a jar on the table, the sight strangely gripping. Sometimes I felt like those daisies. I’d once been cheery and bright, but the life was slowly draining out of me. I couldn’t bring myself to throw the flowers away when I cleaned. Instead, I slid one from the glass jar holding it and twirled the flower between my fingers.

Had Lana’s boyfriend given these to her before they left? I hoped that she’d found someone who would make her happy, who would treat her right, because being treated poorly by a spouse ranked high on my list of the quickest ways to bruise someone’s spirit.

I ran my fingers down the row of petals, causing a few to flutter to the floor. Gingerly, I plucked one of the yellow petals that had still been hanging on.

“He loves me,” I whispered, dropping the delicate leaf to the ground.

I plucked another one. “He loves me not.”

I went through several more and then glanced down at the confetti-like petals at my feet. I didn’t bother to pick them up—not now, at least. I would in a few minutes because I was a self-professed neat freak who liked everything to be in place. I liked my house clean, my outfits neat, and my schedule planned.

Peter had never understood my need for order. He said I just didn’t get it. In all truthfulness, I still didn’t get it. I didn’t get how we went so wrong so quickly. I didn’t get how the only thing I’ve ever failed at was the one thing most important to me.

I plucked another petal. “He loves me.”

All I’d ever wanted was to get married. I wanted to be a mom with lots of kids and a minivan. I wanted to clip coupons and sort through hand-me-downs.

After high school, I’d gone off to a Christian university to get my degree in education. I’d had big dreams of meeting my husband there, and I figured he’d be someone like my dad—strong, committed, and respected. While in college, I began volunteering with a youth organization that promoted abstinence before marriage. That’s where I’d met Peter.

He was a volunteer also. He was a business major at a secular university an hour away. He’d been introduced to Christ through a Christian organization at his school. God had turned his life around, and he’d jumped right into whatever his cause-of-the-moment was. It had worked to my advantage at the time because transforming himself from his old life of worldliness to a new life of purity had been Peter’s one goal.

I’d embodied that purity as I’d been an outspoken promoter of saving yourself for marriage. Peter had never lived a wild life before he’d become a Christian, but he’d lived by a different set of values—values that led him to drink and begin keeping a list of all the women he’d ever been with. He’d turned himself around, though.

We’d dated the standard year and had a respectable six-month engagement. I shook my head as I remembered our early days together. Peter wasn’t a bad person. He didn’t grow up with the same foundation I had. His parents had been divorced. They didn’t go to church. He’d never been shown what to do when the going got rough.

Maybe I should have seen the signs. Just because we’d made so much sense on paper didn’t mean we’d actually work in real life. He’d always had a bit of a temper underneath his smooth exterior. He liked to jump around from job to job, from commitment to commitment. That should have given me a clue.

No one ever thought that I would get divorced. I had a good head on my shoulders and a bright future ahead. Peter fit right into that future, and everyone said we made the perfect couple.

I dropped a yellow piece of the flower to the floor. “He loves me not.”

Then life had fallen apart. Until then, I’d always considered myself a little better than everyone else—the rule breakers. No, I never told them they were sinners or that they should have tried harder to do right. I never told them they were living halfheartedly with one foot on both sides of the fence. But in the secret room of my mind, I’d thought it. I knew God loved me just a little more because I followed all the rules. I was a good girl.

I rubbed the velvety flower between my fingers. “He loves me.”

Now I knew what people thought of me. I knew they thought they were just a little better than I was.

I guessed they were, and I guessed I deserved every one of their judgmental thoughts. I dropped the final petal. “He loves me not.”

No, I wasn’t talking about Peter’s love.

I was talking about God’s.

~*~

The living room at the front of the house had no curtains, just unadorned windows that exposed my train-wreck-in-progress life for all to see. I felt like a goldfish with no place to hide in my fish bowl, a feeling that should be familiar given that my dad was a pastor.

As evening fell, I turned my thoughts to those windows. I should put some sheets across them. Even the thought of getting that close to the glass, of not knowing what lurked in the darkness on the other side of those panes, made my breathing shallow. Visions from the slasher movie Friday the 13th, the scene where the killer had jumped through the window at the end, wouldn’t leave my thoughts. It had been my sister’s idea to watch the movie and now, fourteen years later, I still couldn’t get it out of my mind.

Then again, maybe it wasn’t what was on the outside of my windows I should be worried about. Maybe it was the ghost living inside these walls.

I rolled my eyes. Ghosts were for people who believed in hocus-pocus. Not me.

Still, a cold shiver breezed down my arm, and I swallowed, imagining an invisible being watching my every move, prickling my skin with its presence.

Had someone really died in the house? If so, how? What was it that Lana had said? They were murdered?

I shuddered and pictured a woman sleeping in bed at night, waking to find a man standing over her. Before she can react, he’s strangling her. Panic rips through the woman. She gasps for breath but finds none. Worst yet, she recognizes the man. She knows her killer—

Pounding sounded in the distance. The woman! She’d come back to find the person who took her life. I shrieked and jumped behind the doorframe.

“Tara? It’s me. Cooper.”

Slowly, my grip loosened from the molding around the door. I straightened, feeling foolish.

Of course it was someone knocking on the door, not a spirit from the afterlife. What was wrong with me?

I brushed my hair out of my eyes and gathered my wits. The floor squeaked as I went to let Cooper inside. When I pulled the door open, my neighbor stood there with twinkling eyes.

“Everything okay?” He leaned against the door with his arms crossed, looking at me as if I belonged in a loony bin. Maybe I did.

“Everything’s just fine.”

“I hope I didn’t scare you.”

“Scare me? Why would you think that?”

“I thought I heard a scream.”

“Interesting.” I gulped and opened the door wider. “Would you like to come in?”

He stepped into the house, his gaze scanning the living room as if he thought I really did have a stash of guys hiding somewhere, just waiting to sneak out past midnight. “I thought, just to be safe, that I’d come and check things out while my son is playing with the neighbor across the street.” He shrugged, his eyes back on me. “You know, with everything that’s happened and all.”

“Feel free.”

He began walking the perimeter of the house, checking to make sure the windows were latched and the doors locked properly. “You use these deadbolts at night, correct?”

“I wouldn’t dream of doing otherwise.”

He examined one. “They look sturdy. A criminal would have a hard time getting past one of these.” He continued on. “You might want to consider trimming the hedges in front of the house.”

“I was thinking about tearing them out.” I had to do something to occupy myself while I was here, and re-doing Lana’s flowerbeds just might to do the trick.

He sent me a glance over his shoulder. “Not a bad idea. It also keeps varmints away from your house. Mind if I check out the basement?”

“Be my guest.”

He thumped down the steep steps and ducked his head to avoid hitting it against the low overhang. I followed behind, dreading the voyage down. What was it about basements that were so spooky? The dim lighting, the low ceilings, the various nooks and hiding places, all made my imagination race. I could already feel hands reaching for my ankles as I crept downward. I could picture a madman jumping out as I opened a storage door. I could smell the decay of rotting flesh buried behind a hidden plank.

A shrill scream rang out. I thought of a demon escaping from hell and shrieked myself. Then I realized it was just Cooper opening a window. He raised an eyebrow.

“You’re kind of on edge tonight, huh?” The hinges of the narrow window screamed again as Cooper pulled against them.

“You could say that.” I covered my warm cheeks with my fingers. I remained where I was while he checked the rest of the basement. I pinched the bridge of my nose, forcing my lungs to expand and deflate evenly.

Cooper approached after jiggling the last window. “Everything looks safe. There are a few extra things you could do for security measures, though.”

I moved my hands away from my face and raised my chin, determined to appear normal. I cleared my throat. “Such as?”

“You could get an outside motion-activated light.” He started back upstairs and I followed. “You could also get window film to put over the glass. It makes it difficult for intruders to break the glass.”

“I’ve never heard of it.”

He paused at the top. “Of course, your biggest alert system is going to be this floor. You can’t take a step on it without being heard.”

“That’s both comforting and disturbing.”

Cooper turned to face me. “You going to be okay?”

Instead of pouring out all my nighttime fears, I nodded. “I’ve got squeaky floors. What more could I ask for?”

“Look, I don’t know who that was walking off your porch last night. I wouldn’t lose too much sleep over it. Besides, if you need anything, I’m right next door.” He handed me a business card. “Or you could just call me.”

“Thanks for everything, Cooper.”

He smiled, and wrinkles creased the corners of his eyes. “I’ll see you later, Tara.”

The smile faded from my lips the moment the door shut and Cooper was gone. Silence surrounded me, and the bare windows stared at me like a peeping Tom. I took a step toward the couch and the floor groaned.

My pace quickened and I dove for the couch, nestling myself between the cushions and pulling a blanket to my shoulders.

What exactly did my sister mean about that ghost she mentioned? What had gone on between the walls of this house? Most importantly, did I really want to know? Probably not.

I turned the TV on and flipped through the stations. Eerie music from a made-for-television mystery floated from the surround sound. I quickly flipped stations and found a sit-com. I watched it until my eyes began to lose the fight to stay open.

I clicked the TV off, and silence surrounded me like a hungry pack of wolves. After crossing the room, I flipped the lights off and darted into my bedroom, Gaga right on my heels. I peeled off my clothes and crawled into bed, treasuring the security from the light on the nightstand.

Gaga jumped in bed with me and nosed under the covers. I stared at the light, knowing if I left it on I wouldn’t sleep, but if I turned if off I wouldn’t catch any Zs either. My arm felt bound with weights as I reached toward the switch. As it flickered out, I pressed my head into the pillow.

I felt more like a six-year-old than a twenty-six-year-old.

I closed my eyes. The craziness of yesterday was behind me. Certainly, the rest of my stay here would uneventful. Certainly.

I drew in a deep breath, trying to will some calmness into my thoughts.

That’s when I heard the scratch at my window.