Page 37 of Sharp Force
“Don’t be angry.” I hope he doesn’t make a terrible fuss.
Merlin has been known to caterwaul loud enough to wake the dead. He’s destroyed blinds and curtains when feeling trapped.
“It’s for your own good.” I pet him again. “I saw that very large owl a few minutes ago, the one I’ve warned you about. And an injured raccoon that might have been growling. Which is why you shouldn’t go out at night. And the weather’s awful.”
Merlin is glued to me as I watch the monitor in the foyer. The two red orbs float blearily and in tandem over the foggy driveway like something supernatural. I’m transfixed, curious and horrified as the small red lights travel closer to the house, and I think of the video Dana Diletti took with her phone.
I envision the bright red eyes of the phantomlike specter repeatedly seen around the time of the Slasher murders. I remember police statements about the victims telling their friends and colleagues about seeing and hearing eerie red lights and sounds not long before their murders.
I’m tempted to call Marino. But if I do, he’ll come barreling back. That wouldn’t be fair to my sister, and it’s not necessary. I try Benton instead, and he answers on the first ring.
“They’ve just cleared the tractor-trailer off the highway,” he says right away.
“How’s the battery charge holding up?”
“Around twenty-eight percent.” He sounds tired, his patiencebeginning to fray, and that’s saying a lot as stoic as he is. “Traffic should start moving any minute.”
“Benton, there’s something strange going on.”
I’m looking at the monitor inside the entryway, and the red orbs are near the porch. I’m worried that any moment they’re going to enter the house, and the figure in black will be in front of me, grinning and waving his knife.
“These two red lights on the property,” I explain to Benton.
Parting the drape next to the front door, I peer out the window, the red orbs moving closer.
“I’m looking at them out the window. They’re floating in front of the house…”
I’ve no sooner said this than they vanish before my eyes.
“That’s weird,” I mutter, letting go of the drape.
I see nothing on the monitor but the hulking shapes of trees and shrubs in grayness. And my footprints in the snow leading up the steps to the front door. I tell Benton what I saw and heard after Marino dropped me off a few minutes ago.
“The red lights reminded me of the phantom hologram. But I don’t know what was in the woods. I heard howling and screaming,” I explain. “I know this sounds kooky.”
“One thing you never sound is kooky,” Benton replies as I hang my coat in the entryway closet. “I wish like hell I could get to you quicker. Where’s your Glock?”
“Upstairs as usual.”
“You should be carrying it.”
“Let’s don’t start on that,” I reply.
“Please go get it.”
“I will, but I’m not seeing the red lights anymore, and maybe it was a big deer as Marino suggested.” But I don’t believe it.
“Doesn’t sound like it,” Benton says. “Keep the alarm on, and don’t go outside again for any reason whatsoever.”
“No fear of that.”
“I’ll be home soon, God willing,” he promises, and we end the call.
CHAPTER 13
Itake off my boots, leaving them near the door. Inside the entryway closet are the shearling-lined moccasins I wear in the house, and I slip them on.
My feet are quiet on centuries-old pumpkin pine flooring original to the house and outbuildings. The wide smooth boards are a deep dark orange, the walls white plaster with rosy bricks wearing through. Exposed oak beams in curved wooden ceilings look like the ribs of a ship.
