She snapped on her seat belt. “Your wish is my command.”
“Yeah, right.”
Flush-faced, she rammed the Jeep into gear and they drove through the town, past the old church with a marquee for a new production.
The storm had abated in mid-December, though lingering cold had ensured the ski resorts a fabulous season. But there had been a persisting gloom in the small town over the holidays. On January first, Carter threw away his ice-climbing gear.
He’d removed all pictures of Carolyn from his house and erased her from his mind, even bought Wes Allen a beer at the Lucky Seven; though when Allen had drunk the pilsner, he’d told Shane to “fuck off permanently” despite the fact that Rinda, ever the mother, had tried to help the two men patch things up. Scott had taken off for Portland, chasing down a girl, and Rinda had adopted two dogs and a turtle. In Carter’s opinion, she needed a man, rather than the menagerie of pets she was collecting but figured she’d wake up to that fact soon enough.
Now, nine months later, Jenna drove to a section of town not far from the Junior High School, where a hundred-year-old Victorian home, complete with gingerbread accents, steep gables and a wide, sweeping front porch, stood behind a picket fence and small lawn where the grass was patchy and dry. Jenna checked her watch. “The lesson must be about over,” she said as the Jeep idled near the driveway where Blanche Johnson’s car was parked.
Allie was taking a piano lesson inside, though when Jenna rolled down the window, she didn’t hear the usual musical notes escaping through the old, single-paned windows. Dani Settler was supposed to be with her as the girls had back-to-back lessons and had planned a sleepover at Jenna’s place.
“My guess is she’ll be out in a sec,” Shane said.
Jenna checked her watch again just as Travis Settler drove up. He parked near the front walk and waved as he spied Jenna and Shane. His smile was still a bit tight, as if he hadn’t quite forgiven Jenna for choosing Carter over him, but he seemed to be getting over it.
Swinging a small bag, he walked up to Jenna’s rig. “Emergency call from Dani,” he explained, holding up the small duffel. “She forgot her overnight bag when she went to school this morning and told me to drop it off here.”
“We could have picked it up,” Jenna said.
“Too late. I had to come into town anyway, and I wanted to talk to Dani before she took off for your place.” He flashed a more amiable smile, then sniffed the air. “Do you smell smoke?” His gaze moved over the roof of the SUV toward Blanche’s house.
“No…”
“I do,” Shane said as he climbed out of the Jeep to stretch his legs. His gaze swept the area.
Jenna glanced at her watch again. The lesson was supposed to have been over nearly fifteen minutes ago and Allie wasn’t one to hang out a second past the stated time. “I’ll see what’s going on.” She was out of the Jeep and pushing open the gate as the acrid smell of smoke reached her nostrils. Not wood smoke. Something else.
“I’ll come with you,” Shane said as if he realized something wasn’t right.
The first shiver of fear crawled across her skin as she rang the bell and heard chimes peal through the old house.
Then she noticed the door.
Ajar.
Probably one of the girls hadn’t latched it properly as they ran inside. Right?
Jenna stepped inside and her heart began to knock. “Hi, Blanche!” she called, trying to calm herself. Nothing was wrong. Nothing could be. “It’s Jenna.” The foyer was empty. Dark. No sound inside except for the old timbers settling. “Blanche? Allie?”
She heard footsteps behind her. Travis and Shane had followed her inside. “What’s going on?” Travis asked. “Where are the girls?”
“I don’t know.” She rounded the corner to the small parlor where the old upright piano stood. The bench was kicked out. Sheet music scattered upon the floor. A knot tightened in Jenna’s gut. “Something’s wrong,” she whispered, her gaze flying around the room. Travis and Shane started searching. “Allie!” she screamed, and fear, the same mind-numbing fear she’d felt last winter, took a stranglehold of her. Not again, oh, please, not again!
“Jesus,” Travis said as he looked behind the couch. His face turned white as death. “Call an ambulance!”
“What?” Panicked, Jenna was across the carpet in an instant, Shane already on his cell phone. Behind the couch, lying faceup, a pool of blood staining the carpet, lay Blanche Johnson. “No! Oh, God, no!”
Blanche, her skin a pasty white, her hair disheveled, blood pooled beneath her. Glassy, lifeless eyes stared upward.
Jenna’s hand flew to her throat. “Not again,” she whispered, fear grinding through her.
“Find the girls!” Travis ordered as he reached down to feel for Blanche’s pulse. What seemed a lifetime later, he shook his head. “We’re too late. She’s dead.”
Carter stepped over to the body. Held Jenna close. “I’ve called 911. Units are on the way.” His eyes narrowed and he walked closer to the wall behind the piano. “What’s this?”
For the first time Jenna noticed the mar in the wallpaper print, the angry words, scratched deeply, tearing the paper, smeared with a dark substance that trailed down the cabbage roses and vine print: