Chapters (57)
- Prologue
- 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
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Chapter 51
- Chapter 52
- Chapter 53
- Chapter 54
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgments
He can’t argue with that. Judy’s trademark is her bright red lipstick. She would never be able to drink from a glass without a little bit of it wiping off.
“And I saw that footprint on the floor,” I remind him.
“That was probably Judy’s,” he says, even though it’s preposterous. “Or mine.”
“Also,” I add, “we saw that light on upstairs when we were walking over here. Somebody is upstairs.”
Ethan purses his lips. He looks over at the water glass across the kitchen, then up at the spiral staircase leading to the second floor. “I don’t know, Tricia. If someone else were here, wouldn’t they have come down and told us to get the hell out of their house?”
He has a good point. “Maybe they’re not supposed to be here.”
He doesn’t disregard the possibility. Now his eyes are trained on the stairwell. “Okay. Suppose that’s true. What should we do?”
I’ve still got my purse slung over my shoulder. I reach inside and pull out my phone. Still no signal. “I think we should check upstairs.” Ethan looks like he’s about to protest, so I quickly add, “we’re stuck here for the night. Are you going to be able to sleep if you know a stranger is lurking around the house?”
“You’re right,” Ethan finally says. “I should go check it out. You stay here.”
“No way.” I shake my head vigorously. “I’m going with you. You’re not leaving me alone down here.”
Again, he seems like he’s about to protest but then thinks better of it. He rubs his chin with his thumb for a moment, then reaches for something on the kitchen counter. It takes me a moment to realize that it’s a block of knives. The long serrated blade Ethan pulls out glints in the overhead lights in the kitchen. “Should be prepared, right?”
I have no objection to him taking a knife. I’m tempted to grab one myself.
We walk together across the living room, past the portrait of Dr. Adrienne Hale. I’m quickly starting to despise that painting. This house is creepy enough without those green eyes following me around everywhere. It’s a relief when we get to the staircase, away from her gaze.