Page 17 of I Knew You Were Trouble

The gate extends out to a thick wooden post. Carved in the wood are intricate designs—horses, horseshoes, cowboy hats… that kind of thing. Someone’s got money for such a customized gate. Well, and I guess the house too that I still can’t see.

After searching through the overgrown, dying ivy, my fingers finally slip over an intercom button.

“Hello?” Who the hell knows if I’m supposed to talk, but I do it anyway. I’ve only seen these things in movies. I jut my gaze upward, searching for a camera.

Snow falls against my forehead, and I use my covering to wipe it off.

Nothing. No answer, not a camera—that I can see—and no sign of life. I scratch at the back of my head, reaching under my helmet to get the itch, then pull my phone out.

Hey, I’m here, I text to Candace, then settle on my bike. She answers immediately.

I live in the guest house. You can park there.

Uh… okay… Maybe her family doesn’t own this massive property, and a twinge of relief hits me squarely in the chest at the thought. I hate to admit when I’m jealous as hell, but my face was turning greener and greener the longer I stood in front of this gate.

The front gate is locked. Is there a way around?

I straddle my bike and pull up my face covering while I wait. My phone buzzes at the same time as a creak echoes across the road.

Sorry, I forgot! Opening it now.

The creaky gate opens in the middle, swinging inward. The crest splits in half, leaving the horse engraved in the iron headless on one side and bodyless on the other.

I slip my phone away and start the bike up, breathing heavy as I take the long, winding driveway into the property. This feels straight up out of a crime show, and I would probably be more worried if it wasn’t Candace who invited me here.

I pass a massive farmhouse with a wrap-around deck, assuming it’s the main house. But when I get farther up the road and see the humongous mansion, I turn back around.

Candace is out on the front deck, pacing its length. She has no coat on, so she’s rubbing her hands up and down her arms and talking to herself through chattering teeth. I hold back my amusement as I dismount, dig out her long list, and shove it into my back pocket. I hope she’s okay that I parked close so I can get some of that porch cover for my bike. Not really feeling ready to pull out my tarp.

“Hey,” I say, and her wide eyes flick up. She gives me a barely there wave.

The deck is made out of that same quality wood that’s surrounding the place. There are no carvings, but there are several wind chimes making a hell of a lot of noise.

“Probably should go inside, yeah?” I tease over the tinkling chimes.

She rolls her eyes. “You think?”

“Well, hello to you too.”

She passes me, still rubbing her arms like she’s trying to catch them on fire. “Sorry,” she says through chattering teeth. “There’s just… There’s a spider in there.”

“Oh no, what’ll we do?”

“Shut up. The thing is huge. Probably on holiday from Australia.”

I bark out a laugh and ease toward the front door. “I see.” My glove slips on the door handle. “And spiders were what color again on your list?”

“Blue.”

“Perfect.” I give her a grin. “This’ll be lesson one for you, then.”

Her brow furrows at me, and she stops her pacing. “Blue is up there in the danger zone, Pete. It’s a degree below indigo.”

“Which is below purple.”

“Violet.”

“Whatever.” I push on the door handle and open it for her. “It’s low enough for you to go in there and kill the beast.”

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