Page 95 of A Heart So Haunted
As I held her wrists, she confirmed my suspicion. Her eyes began roving again: surfaces, doors, halls. Searching.
If she needed money and had no place to stay, she’d either gotten evicted again or taken money from someone and promised to pay them back, and hadn’t.
I thought of Aunt Cadence’s things in the attic. In the spare bedrooms. The portraits on the walls, the crystal on the dresser, the antique carriage trunks at the foot of every bed. Little things, big things, all worth money, that she could sell. That was supposed to be auctioned, only now, I wouldn’t be auctioning it if I wasn’t selling the house. All things she could get her hands on and steal if she was left alone.
There was no doubt in my mind that she would steal from me.
“How about this,” I offered. “I’ll give Dad a call and tell him you’re here. But I need to get you a room for the night because things are cramped.”
“Oh, hell, Lanny—cramped? Five rooms?”
“You hate this place,” I said, firm. “Let me get you an Airbnb or something.”
“Landry.” Her lips started to tremble. Not quivering from an onslaught of tears, but out of anger.
“I’ll give you money.” My heart sank at my own words. I just couldn’t have her here. I needed Emma. I needed something, someone to help me keep her at bay. I just didn’t know how.
“You would?” Her breathing heaved. It smelled like vinegar and alfredo sauce. I tried not to curl away.
“Four hundred dollars for your own pocket. And I’ll buy your stay for the next three days.” That was at least enough time to call Dad, pray for an answer, and maybe—call the police if she kept coming back and get a trespassing notice.
Her mouth puckered. “Oh, see, darling?” She patted my cheek. “I think that would be just fine. I’ll do this for you. Give you your space.I know it’s hard, cleaning out after someone dies. But trust me. It gets easier.”
“Just send it, Lan. It can’t hurt,” Sayer said, his voice lined with static over the phone.
“Okay, okay, I did it. There.” I swiped out of the message tab and silenced my phone. My father would probably see the notification come through and clear it without opening it, but it was worth a shot. Irene wouldn’t see the one I sent her, either. It was too late at night.
At least I could say that I tried.
Which was exactly why I’d sent it now and not the middle of the day.
I sat on the attic floor. Boxes spread around me like a small army. A floodlight—which I’d been able to find in the shed, after searching all over the garage—pointed up at the ceiling. Even with the door open, not enough light made it from the second floor, and the only other time I’d ventured up here was during the day. With the windows and constant sunshine, the lack of a light switch hadn’t occurred to me.
“I can’t believe she’s there!” The line crinkled. It sounded like Sayer had shoved his hand into a bag of chips. “Who does this woman think she is?”
Just then, Hadrian crawled up the last step on all fours. He stopped, glanced around. His nostrils flared as he huffed the floor, like he was searching for something.
“Because she’s delusional,” I said. My hands fell in my lap as I watched Hadrian. “And she probably needs money, so she thinks I can just whip out the life insurance policy. She said she needed a place to stay.”
“But—you were left with it—not her! None of it is hers!” His words turned staticky. “Don’t you dare give in, Lan. She’s lurking for a reason. I can feel it in my bones. Is she using again? Did you see any evidence? Did she have an ankle monitor on?”
I sighed. I’d been too surprised to even check.
Sayer went on his tangent. “You know what? It’s a full moon. Of course, she’d show up now.” A pause. Crunching. “Have you told Emma yet?”
“She’s not back from her work thing.” I sighed. “I thought about texting her, but it’d just make her upset.” Emma loved my mom as much as oil loved water.
“And the divorce thing.” More rustling.
“Right, and the divorce thing.” Who knew if Mom was only blowing smoke or if it was true? I hoped Emma would have at least texted me if it was.
I paused. Glanced to my phone. Weighed the pros and cons of reaching out to her. But what if she wanted to keep it private? What if there were reasons I wasn’t aware of?
Sayer and I said our goodbyes—him promising to come back soon, because he had a sixth sense Wade was going to ask for a break (to which I shared sorrows, but Sayer’s only response was, “The chips fall, I eat them. Nothing more to it.”). I promised to keep him updated and to keep the doors locked.
I hung up as Hadrian angled himself through the door.
“Don’t hit your horns,” I said. I scooted over to another storage container—all framed photographs and albums layered in an inch of dust. “I’d hate to see that banister need to be replaced. It’s original.”
