Page 40 of The Haunting of Paynes Hollow
“What about…?” His gaze shoots to the house, where Gail works inside.
“No,” I say adamantly. “My aunt already received her inheritance, and she’s here to help me get mine. Otherwise, she’ll insist on giving me part of hers for my mother’s care. Gail would gain nothing by scaring me off.”
“Isn’t there another brother? And a cousin? Didn’t come here much?”
“My uncle Mark and my cousin Caleb.”
“Bet they aren’t too happy about you inheriting. Especially the cousin. You two are the only grandchildren, aren’t you?”
I nod. “Both Mark and Caleb got a share of the house, like Gail. It was split three ways. They’re also not in line to inherit the property if I fail, though.”
Smits shrugs. “They could contest it. Easier to do that if it’s going to distant relatives. Might also not matter whether they inherit, if they’re upset enough. How do they feel about this?”
My answer must show, because he nods. “Could just want to scare you off so you don’t get it. Being petty. Jealous. Let me ask around town, see whether anyone’s been through who looks like your uncle or cousin. Even your aunt.”
I nod. Can I imagine Uncle Mark or Aunt Ellen doing this? I look down at the fox and shudder. No. Caleb, though? Scaring me off so I don’t inherit, just to be vindictive.
Oh, yeah.
Especially if he’d somehow heard what happened all those years ago.
“Let me clean this up for you.” Smits waves at the fox. “Then I’ll take a walk around. See what I can see.”
Sheriff Smits stays for another hour, while I work inside with Gail. I don’t mention his theory that one of our relatives could be behind this. I need to think on that.
While Smits investigates, I try to work, but my mind keeps sliding back to last night.
How do I explain what I saw?
The obvious answer is that I was dreaming. I’d seen a figure in the shed, with dark “liquid” eyes, and then I saw Austin coming up from the water with similar eyes. Clearly a dream. Except I woke with sand on my feet, and Gail mentioned me getting up last night.
Could I have been sleepwalking again?
Being back here could trigger it. Combine sleepwalking with a nightmare about Austin Vandergriff. Was that a thing? Could you be partly conscious while sleepwalking, your environment impacting your dreams? That must be possible—I would have been partly conscious while sleepwalking as a child, if I kept going places where I might find my father.
Maybe I should contact that old therapist. I’d liked her, and I’d gone to her for years, until we couldn’t afford it.
Can I afford it now?
Silly question. No, I cannot.
I take a deep breath, close my laptop, and say to Gail, “I’m going out. Can you see how the sheriff is doing?”
She nods distractedly. She’s filling out some kind of form, and while I don’t mean to spy, I glimpse enough to know it’s a medical form for IVF. That makes me smile, and I squeeze her shoulder as I go past.
When I reach the porch, Sheriff Smits’s pickup is gone. He must have finished and didn’t have anything new to tell us.
I look out toward the lake. Then I find myself slowly heading there, caught between compulsion and reluctance. I continue to the spot I’dbeen in last night. I can see my footprints in the sand, the clear signs of me walking one way and then just the balls of my feet as I ran for the cottage.
There are no other prints.
What did I expect? The still-wet footprints of a thirteen-year-old boy chasing me? Adeadboy chasing me?
I stare down at the empty expanse of sand and shiver, arms wrapping around me. Before I can process what I’m doing, I’m heading into the forest. I keep walking until my feet automatically find a path. After a few hundred feet, I turn onto a smaller trail, almost overgrown.
I walk until I see the massive maple tree. Then I stop, calm my breathing, and walk around the trunk, fingers on the bark as if to steady myself. By the time I get to the other side, my breathing has picked up again.
I don’t want to see it still here.
