The After House (16 page)

“I made a vow to bring you home. We have to get home to your parents, and I have to go back to my wife and children.”

Henry didn’t respond. Eli panicked, his fingers probing the boy’s face. “Don’t leave me, Henry! I promised your mother. I promised Sarah.” His hands pulled the boy’s head up, the faint breaths assuring Eli the lad still lived. “Don’t leave me, boy. I made a promise. Stay with me here. Stay with me in the afterhouse.” He kept repeating the words long after he knew Henry couldn’t hear him.

2014

t eleven, Hugh woke Remy because the police arrived, asking all kinds of questions. They left later, unsatisfied with her responses. All she was able to give them was the fact that it was a beige sedan. Paint from the other car was on her bumper as well. He helped her contact her insurance broker, then drove her over to the rental place. They parted reluctant ways after she got the keys to her rental car.

“You didn’t have to stay. I feel like problems follow me like a shadow. All I am is work.” Remy touched his arm.

Hugh shuffled his feet in the cold. “I love work. Truly, I don’t mind. You definitely feel better?”

“Good as new. I really enjoyed our time together. I mean, except when I was unconscious.”

“Yeah, I enjoyed it too. I’d like to see you again. Especially when you’re not unconscious.”

“Well,” Remy said shyly, “do you want to take a chance being the rebound guy?”

“I’m up for the challenge.” Hugh smiled back. “I’ll be back later. Try to rest.” He paused for a minute, cocking his head. “Remy, do you ever feel things in the house?”

“Like what?”

“Oh, I don’t know—like someone’s in the house?”

“Why? Did you see something?”

Hugh’s face heated. “No, of course not. Maybe the old sea captain’s portrait spooked me.”

“What, our captain? He may be intense, but I swear sometimes I think he’s smiling.”

Hugh shivered. “Smiling?” He changed the subject. “I think his name was Elijah something. I’ll look him up.”

“I’d love to have some information on him. Thanks.” Remy reached up to kiss him on the cheek, but Hugh turned, taking her into his arms. She felt warm, secure, and oddly safe. Their bulky parkas separated them, but their bodies locked together magnetically. The kiss deepened, and they found themselves breathing in tandem with each other. Hugh was sweating.

“You have too many clothes on,” Remy said.

“My thoughts exactly,” Hugh said, kissing her again. “When I’m with you, I feel like I’m…I don’t know…like whole.”

“I’ve never done this with anybody,” she said.

“I never felt about a woman like—” he said at the same time.

“This is scaring me, Hugh. I want to take it slow.” Remy played with the fabric of the Burberry scarf he wore.

Hugh lifted her against him, his smile wide. “Well, I don’t. Around here we like to keep traffic moving briskly. Look, Remy. This isn’t my first rodeo. I’ve been married and divorced. I’ve had a few relationships, but when I saw you, it was like…I don’t know…pow!”

Remy rested her head against his chest, listening to the reassuring thud of his heart. “I know, I know. I just don’t want to make another mistake. I don’t want to get hurt again.”

Hugh pulled her face up. “I will never let anything bad happen to you. Ever.”

“I’m a package deal, though. Are you prepared for that?”

“Package deal?”

“I come as a plus one, Hugh. I have a little girl.”

“A bargain. Two-for-one special. I still wouldn’t let anything happen to you. Either of you.”

Eli sat frozen on the awning of the building, a tidal wave of a roar building in his barrel chest. He kicked the canvas with his booted foot, sending a small avalanche of snow onto Remy and Hugh’s unsuspecting heads. Remy squealed as they hurried farther down the street to brush off the icy flakes. Eli looked out to the sea, wishing he were in hell. Maybe he was.

er dad was waiting at her door with a golden lab on a leash.

“This here is Scout,” he informed his daughter as he led in her new watchdog. He was a giant brute with a sloppy pink tongue that left a trail of drool along her pristine wooden floors.

“Dad!” Remy wailed, looking at the slimy ropes scalloped on the floor.

“Remy!” Brian shouted, seeing her black eyes and bruised cheek. “Why didn’t you tell us you were that injured?”

“Take him back, Dad. I don’t have the time to take care of a pet.”

“Never mind. Let me look at your face.”

He held her head tenderly in his large hands, turning it into better light, his face wincing.

“This is bad.” He released her. “Scout is here to take care of you,” he told her while he unpacked a score of bags filled with dog food and other pet-related products.

“A dog? Like I need this?”

“It’s either Mom and me or the dog, Rem. Take your pick.”

“You hate dogs. Where’d you get him?” Remy asked, bending to ruffle the yellow fur.

“The pound. They said he was a good watchdog.”

For years Remy had begged for a pet, but her parents had steadfastly refused. They were not animal people, her father told her. He was bitten as a child and had a hard time with big dogs. She knew it must have taken a major toll on her father to go to the pound and pick a dog.

“Welcome home, Scout,” Remy replied, because she knew that was the end of that.

Brian sat in her parlor, the ever-present newspaper in his hands, Scout at his feet, and a fire roared in the fireplace. Every so often, he bent down to pat the dog awkwardly on the head. Scout slavishly rolled his tongue on her dad’s wrist.

“Huh, tickles.” He laughed. “Maybe I’ll keep your mother away for a while, Rem. She’s not going to take your face too well.”

“Not a bad idea, Dad.” Remy winced as she drank down her tea. “Maybe you should take him home. Looks like you made a friend.”

“Never mind, Remy. What did the police say?”

“Since I didn’t see a license plate, they don’t have much to go on. They found beige paint on my car, and—”

“What color is Scott’s car?” He looked at her over the newspaper, his glasses sliding down his big nose.

“Don’t go there, Dad. Scott and I may have our differences, but he has no reason to do anything to me.”

“He has motive,” Brian said as he stood impatiently to pace the room. He stopped in front of the mural, considering the captain’s face.

“His name, we think, is Elijah,” Remy said. “He doesn’t know much either.” She giggled. “What motives are you talking about? Scott has no motive. We aren’t together. You forgave the loan. Other than Livie, we have no cause to interact.”

Brian turned, pointing his finger at her. “It’s no laughing matter, Remy. First you have a robbery, then they lob a Molotov cocktail at your studio. Who knows what’s in Scott’s head? He was a fool to leave you.” Scout raised his head and barked at his tone.

“Ah, thanks, Dad. How did you know about the vandalism at the studio?”

“You made the six o’clock news,” Brian said grimly.

“I was going to tell you about it today.” Remy said, her face blushing.

Brian returned a stern look.

“Anyway, it was nothing really. They think it was kids.”

Brian harrumphed.

Remy continued as if he hadn’t.

“My life with Scott is over. Really over. I’m building a new life. I’m a big girl. You have to let me grow up.”

“Then you’re run off the road.” He went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “Why didn’t you call us to pick you up from the hospital?”

“Hugh did.”

“Who?”

“Oh, this might become a problem. Not who, Hugh.”

“The museum fella. How did that happen?”

“It seems he’s the mayor, and he was on the scene, so he, well, he sort of watched over me.”

Brian grunted, and his eyes narrowed. “What color is his car?”

“Dad,” Remy shouted. “He’s the mayor.”

“I didn’t know being a politician exempts a person from crime.” Brian grabbed his coat. Remy stood to help him get into it. “I just want you safe, Rem. You’re all we have.”

“Ditto, Dad. I’m fine. I’m not stupid either. It’s just random happenings. Kids, a person with a few drinks. Who would want to hurt me?”

She escorted her father to the door, looked down at Scout, and asked him, “Really, Scout. Who would want to hurt me?”

Scout was busy sniffing the wall underneath the captain’s portrait. Whining, he pawed the floor and dug at something. Remy pulled on his collar, afraid he’d scratch her newly polished floors. Scout resisted, and Remy gave up. Her body hurt too much to fight him. She locked the doors, lying down on the sofa and wrapping up in her afghan. Her brain was too tired to think.