Deadly Decision Read Online Free Page A

aren’t you?” Ted asked.
    “Sure. In the morning. By the way, does Mrs. Roberts know?” He looked at his watch. “It’s ten o’clock, but she might still be up. I can stop by her house.”
    “We’ll call her in the morning,” Ted said as he led the officer to the door.
    We stared through the windows until the cruiser’s headlights were swallowed up in the dark.
    Trina yawned. “Do you think you can sleep, Dad, after all this excitement?”
    I noticed the dark circles under my daughter’s eyes. “I’m bone tired. I’ll be asleep before you,” I lied, knowing I was too wired to close my eyes.
    Ted had already carried my suitcase upstairs. When I opened the door, the air in the newly cleaned room smelled slightly of lemon, probably furniture polish. Since seeing the remainder of the house, I appreciated the work Trina had put into getting my bedroom ready. A budvase with a fresh pink rose rested on the dresser, flanked by a candle setting in the middle of a glass plate. A bit feminine for my taste, but this was Trina’s touch, her attempt to make me know I was welcome. As I pulled the cool sheets over my aching body, love for my daughter mingled with the tension still present in my chest.
    Physically exhausted but far from sleep, I stared at the ceiling, aware of the passing of time. Night sounds filtered through the screened window: a car on the street, the leaves moving in the trees, a dog barking in the distance. Soothing sounds.
    Then other noises. I could hear the boys above me. Footsteps.
    The house had not yet revealed all its secrets.
     
     
     
     

5
     
    Although daylight already warmed my room, it did nothing to penetrate the chill that froze my heart. I had spent most of the night wrestling with ghosts, past and present, and woke feeling groggy and irritable.
    Trina and Ted would insist I go with them to talk to Mrs. Roberts. Even though curious about the woman who had rented them this house, I preferred not to meet her under these circumstances.
    How do you tell a grandmother her grandson is dead? Trina and I had been together when Nancy died. We had done our best to keep Nancy comfortable, and held her hand as she slipped from this world to the next. The act of giving had helped ease our loss. Jimmy had not had a loving family beside him as he left this life. He had died at the hand of an unknown monster. Mrs. Roberts would not have the closure that Trina and I had been given. I did not envy Ted’s job of destroying all hope of a happy reunion for his landlady.
    Lingering in bed, my mind worked through the attic incident, mulling over the facts as I knew them. The boys weren’t demons. They just couldn’t be. I knew my refusal to believe this did not make it so, but deep within the very fabric of my body, the knowledge burned true. Nor could the apparitions be human spirits, in spite of all appearances. The nightmares, the tension that haunted me, and now the ghosts: it all meant something, but what?
    I tried not to think about the first boy, the one whose identity clung to the edge of my memory. He was like an itch I couldn’t quite reach, and, like poison ivy, the itch got worse the more I thought about him.
    My watch was on the dresser across the room, but I knew it was late, past time for me to be up. Trina had not put a clock in the room. I wondered if that was intentional. I lay on my back staring at the ceiling. Beams of light filtered through the old oak limbs outside the window and danced on the ceiling; birds sang a morning greeting. This could be a pleasant place, except…
    I saw a ghost. No I didn’t. I imagined it. Not true. It was a demon. Can’t be.
    Groaning in frustration, I rolled out of bed and struggled into my clothes. After a quick shave, I headed down the staircase to the kitchen at the back of the house.
    Trina faced the sink. The narrow kitchen covered over half the back of the house. I had not given the kitchen more than a cursory glance the day before.
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