Stalking over to meet her, he could tell she was affected by her meeting with the crazy ex. “You okay, Tiff?”
“Sure am,” she said quickly. “Can we get this over with?”
He didn’t believe her for a minute, but Ryder decided to let it go. If she didn’t want to talk about it, he wouldn’t force it.
Leading her over to the front door, they watched his father pick the lock. Hickory was standing beside an open utility box in the front of the property, messing around with some wires. He slammed the box shut and joined them on the porch. “I shut off the electricity to the whole house. That will take care of any security system.”
The two older men pulled out flashlights. Ryder mumbled something about “fucking boy scouts” under his breath as they entered the house. Since Stuart had large, open windows and modern skylights, the rooms were reasonably well-lit. Tiffany immediately reached into a drawer in the foyer table and pulled out emergency flashlights for everyone else.
They headed straight down into the basement in question, and Ven began picking locks. The first one opened on an old-fashioned child’s room. Sitting in the middle of the room was a man dressed in blue jeans, a button-up shirt with trains on it, and vintage chucks. Glancing over his shoulder, he scrambled to his feet.
“Shit, is that you, Tiffany? Tell me this is a rescue, girl.”
~ Tiffany ~
Ryder stepped in front of her when she tried to approach the man. Tiffany peered around her lover’s bulky form. “Walter, is that you?”
“It was only ever the three of us, Tiff,” he said desperately. “When you took off, mister crazy pants snagged me.”
Pushing past Ryder, she rushed over to her long-ago friend. “I don’t understand, Walt. What in the hell did he want with you?”
Looking disgusted, he replied blandly, “Stupid fucking games, Tiff. What else? You know how he is. We color, play Pac Man and stupid shit like that. I’ve been here for months, and I’m so over this gig.”
“Wait, he was paying you be his playmate?” she asked with a deep frown.
Nodding, Walter replied, “It beats the shit out of flipping burgers. It was fun at first, but after a while, eating pizza and playing video games got old. I wanted to leave, so he tossed my ass in here. I want to go home, Tiff. Are you going to make that happen for me, or should I go back to watching cartoons?”
Grabbing his hand, Tiffany pulled him out into the hall. “We have to see what’s in the rest of the rooms. There could be more people.”
The man sighed. “We can look if you want, but there was never anyone but the three of us.”
Ryder snaked an arm around her waist. “That’s the second fucking time you said that. What do you mean it was only ever thethreeof you?”
Tiffany patted his arms as his father picked another lock. “He means that during all the time we were in school, we were Stuart’s only true friends. We were the only ones who talked to him, colored with him, and played with him on the playground.”
“That’s all kinds of weird.”
Before Tiffany could answer, another door popped open. This one was filled with expensive train sets. It looked kind of like a museum. “Fuck me. Just when I don’t think things can get any weirder…”
Walter sighed. When he spoke, his voice was almost haunted. “We play in here sometimes.”
Ryder stared at the grown man dressed like a little boy. “Dude, you need to get a real life.”
“Thanks for the insight, you stupid fuck,” Walter spat.
For a brief moment, Walter sounded just like Ace. Poking Ryder in the chest, Tiffany murmured. “Don’t get attached to him. He’s staying in Smallville.”
“You’re a funny lady.” Ryder’s expression let her know that he caught her little joke.
Hickory was standing at the door with his arm around Sarah. “We got two more doors. How about we open them and get the fuck outta here. This place is giving me the creeps.”
Ven made short order of the next door, but the room was totally barren. They weren’t so lucky with the next room. As soon as the door cracked open, they could smell the faint scent of death. It smelled like a funeral parlor.
Stepping into the room, Tiffany realized exactly why. It was an older woman’s bedroom. The floor had been covered with plush carpeting and a huge oriental rug. Books filled two massive shelves, and there were old-fashioned knickknack sitting about, and a chess set on a nearby table for two.
A huge bed ate up the largest share of the space. It had nightstands on each side and lamps with pretty shades. Luxurious bedding covered the body of an older woman who was wearing a lovely gown and had her hair brushed lovingly back out of her face, with long locks of silver hair curling around her shoulders. If not for the gray color of her skin, she could have been mistaken for sleeping.
“It’s Suzie Que.” Sarah’s voice was almost a whisper from the back of the room. “She was Old Man Chamberlin’s first wife. We all thought she died in a boating accident.”