Chapters (34)
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Dedication
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Epilogue
- Bibliography
Sana got the usual three locks open with their respective keys but then noticed there was another one, which she was certain was new. She was about to ask Shawn about it when she tried the door. It opened without a problem, and that was the last she thought of it. Instead, she stepped aside to allow Shawn to enter first, as he was carrying the bulk of the groceries.
“Hello, Luke,” Sana heard Shawn say as she kicked the door closed behind her. She then reached around and threw the three dead bolts. When she turned again, Shawn was talking with Luke, but it was not sociable talking. Shawn was telling Luke that he was not allowed to smoke in the house under no uncertain terms.
“It’s just a cigarette,” Luke responded. His tone was not defensive or even apologetic. It was more challenging, as if the house rules were his to determine.
“I’m telling you, there is no smoking in this house,” Shawn repeated slowly but definitively.
“Fine,” Luke said insouciantly. He stood up from the chair he was in, pushed past Shawn, and made his way to the front door. Instead of opening the door, he locked it more securely with a key, which he pocketed, then headed for the stairs.
“Where on earth are you going?” Shawn questioned when he thought Luke was going upstairs. “Don’t make me repeat myself yet again!”
Luke passed the entrance to the stairs, blithely rapping his knuckle on the newel post. He seemed strangely detached, openly ignoring his hosts, who had just come home.
Shawn looked at Sana as if he expected her to have an explanation for such bizarre behavior. The man had a lit cigarette but wasn’t smoking it, nor was he getting rid of it. It seemed as if he was on a walking tour of the residence until he came to the door to the cellar, which was under the front stairs. There he stopped, and once he had a hand on the doorknob, he turned back to look directly at Shawn and Sana. Appearing now as breezy as he’d sounded just a few moments earlier, he recited a Hail Mary, at the conclusion of which he snapped open the basement door, threw in the lighted cigarette, and slammed the door closed.