The Last House Guest Page 22
I eased the door shut as I stepped outside, then slid the key silently into the lock, making sure to secure the house once more. I heard the rise and fall of Erica’s voice, Parker’s laugh in response. But I was hidden by the garbage can and the lattice fencing. I waited until I heard laughter again, and then I darted the distance to the garage, keeping in the trees, hoping no one noticed.
Ten seconds to slow my breathing, and I stepped out from the other side of the garage, waving my hand over my head. “Hey there. Erica? Thought I heard you guys.”
They both turned to look at me, their faces giving nothing away. Erica smiled first. “Sorry, I was just about to text you.”
“No worries,” I said. “Are you ready? Come on in.”
* * *
ERICA STOOD IN THE middle of the living room, making no effort to hide the fact that she was appraising the place.
My heart was still racing, and I opened the fridge to cool my face. “Can I get you something to drink?” I asked.
“No, thanks.” She made a show of checking her watch as I pulled out a drink. “I’ve got to get back to the office soon.”
I took the picture of Sadie from my desk, handing it to her without looking. “Will that work?”
Erica stared at the photo in her hand, eyes unmoving, so close I could see the colors of the picture reflected in her glasses. I hoped it was gutting. “Yes. It’s good.” She slid it into her bag, then leaned over my desk, peering out the window. “It is pretty up here, I’ll give you that,” she said. Like she was picking up from a conversation I’d missed.
“It is. You living in Littleport full-time now?”
She nodded, still looking out the window. “Moved up after I got my degree in May. Staying with my aunt until I can get on my feet. She set me up with this job in the meantime.”
“You should see the view from the main house,” I said.
“I have,” she said, then turned to face me, hands on her hips. “You really don’t remember, do you.”
I shook my head, eyes wide, desperately trying to fit her face into a memory of the Lomans.
“No, I guess you wouldn’t. I worked that party with you here. Right after you graduated high school?”
“Oh.” My hand to my mouth. I did remember. Not her specifically, but I remembered Evelyn assigning each of us a role. Erica, patio. Avery, kitchen. But those moments had gotten overshadowed by the parts that had shone so brightly: the blood, the bathroom, Sadie. “Sorry. It was a long time ago.”
“It’s okay, my aunt told me what happened back then. She warned me to keep my distance, no offense.” Erica cleared her throat, her gaze drifting off to the side. “But looks like you’re doing pretty well for yourself here.”
I nodded. What did one say when faced with an embarrassing past? I wanted to brush it away, tell her it was a long time ago, that I barely remembered it myself. That it was a matter of her aunt being overprotective, blowing everything out of proportion.
Instead, I leaned in to it, like I’d learned from Sadie, because as she’d taught me, there was no use hiding from myself. Especially not here. “It was a bad time,” I said.
She blinked once, then nodded. “Well, we all grew up, I guess.”
“Your aunt was good to me when I didn’t deserve it. I can’t imagine most people would’ve hired me for something like this around then.”
She cracked a smile, like there was a joke she was remembering. “Don’t give her too much credit. She would’ve done anything the Lomans asked. Probably still would.”
I shook my head, not understanding.
Erica jutted her thumb toward the main house. “Sadie Loman, your friend, right? She called before the party, asked for you by name. I thought you knew?”
“No,” I said. That was wrong. Erica had it backward. “I met her that day. At the party.”
Erica tilted her head as if trying to read something in my words. “No, I remember. I remember because my aunt was not happy about it. Said I’d have to keep an eye on you, make sure you were keeping up.” She shrugged. “Like you said, it was a long time ago.” As if forgiving me for my lapse in memory.
But no. That moment had sharpened and heightened over the years. Erica was wrong. Sadie did not know me then. It had been an accident. Sadie had caught me in the bathroom, when I’d been hiding, trying to stop the blood.
A chance encounter, and my world changed for the better because of it.
“Well, I’d better be going.” Erica patted her bag with the photo. “Thanks for this, Avery.”
She walked down the path toward her car, and I stood in the doorway, watching her drive off. She had to be mistaken. Confused. Swapping one memory for another, her visits to Littleport blurring.
I started to close the door, but something caught my eye. Parker, standing at the edge of the garage, watching me.
I jumped. Hand to heart. Uneasy smile. “This is getting to be a habit,” I called, going for levity. I had no idea how long he’d been standing there.
But he didn’t smile in return. “Were you in the house?”
My heart rate picked up again, and I felt the flush of my cheeks, glad for the distance between us. “What?” I asked, trying to buy some time, come up with the right excuse. Had I left something out of place? Or had they added a security system? Did the camera of his laptop capture me in the office as I searched the desk drawers?
“The back door,” he said, coming closer. “To the patio. It was open.”
I shook my head. That hadn’t been me. I hadn’t touched it. “Maybe you forgot to lock it,” I said.
He pressed his lips together. “I mean, it wasn’t even closed.”
A chill ran through me. When I had searched the downstairs, everything had appeared exactly as it should’ve been. “If you don’t lock it, sometimes it’s not really latched all the way. The wind can do that,” I said. But there was a waver in my voice, and I was sure he heard it, too.
He shook his head as if clearing a thought. “I know that. I thought I locked it. I just—I don’t remember the last time I went out there. Does anyone else have a key? I mean, other than you.”
I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to unravel his words—subtly accusing but also the truth. “The cleaning company has the code for the lockbox. I have the key right now, though. From the other night. It’s the one for emergencies. I’ll get it for you.” A show of good faith to prove that I hadn’t abused my position, and that I would not in the future, either.
He waved me off. “No, it’s fine. I just wanted to check. I wouldn’t have been angry if it was you.”
But from the look on his face when I first saw him standing at the edge of the garage, I didn’t think that was true at all.
And now I was thinking that someone else had been up here with us. Had been inside that house just as I had been. A presence I had felt while standing in Sadie’s room. Who had almost been caught and had left the door ajar in the rush to leave.
Someone who’d had the same idea I had and was looking for something, too.
CHAPTER 12
Someone was snooping around the Loman property. Someone had been snooping around. From the noises at night, to the power outages, to the fact that Parker had arrived home today to an open back door.
Whatever they were searching for, I had to find it first. And now I was pretty sure I knew exactly where to look.
The garage was always kept locked. There was a separate key just for that building—so the Lomans could leave the landscapers access without worrying about their home. I had no way inside on my own. The most logical way to get into the trunk of Parker’s car was to get the car out.
“Parker,” I called when he was halfway back to the main house. I jogged the distance between us, closing the gap. “Let me take you out tonight.” I framed it like an apology. A welcome-home. A Friday night. “You should get out.”
He looked me over slowly. “I was planning to, anyway. It’s so quiet up here all the time.”
He’d never stayed here alone, I realized. Bianca was usually in Littleport all summer. And when she left at the end of the season, Sadie stayed behind with him.
“Eight?” I asked. “I can drive.”
“No, I’ll drive,” he said. Which I’d known would happen. No way he’d be caught in the passenger seat of my old car, which had been left exposed to the elements over the years, snow and ice and saltwater winds. “The Fold?”
I hadn’t been to the Fold in nearly a year. It used to be my very favorite place to go with Sadie. It was part of her world, one of those places that operated only in the summer months, like the ice cream shop.
Now the bars I visited were mostly the local ones. My closest acquaintances were the people I worked with in one capacity or another. The property inspector, Jillian. The general contractor, Wes, though I was a representative of the Lomans, so I was never sure where I stood with him. Only that any time I texted him to meet up, he’d arrive. And the one time I’d asked if he wanted to hang out at his place after, he’d said yes. I didn’t initiate again, and neither did he.