Heroes Are My Weakness: A Novel

“He was older, so probably not. Ned Grayson. The best-looking man on the island. For a while, that made me forget about how much I hated it here.” She snatched a bowl covered in plastic wrap from the refrigerator. “He died last summer.”

“I’m sorry.”

She gave a rueful laugh. “Don’t be. Turned out, he had a mean temper and big fists that he wasn’t afraid of using. Mainly on me.”

“Oh, Jaycie . . .” Her air of vulnerability made it doubly obscene to imagine her being abused.

Jaycie tucked the bowl under her free arm, wedging it tightly against her body. “It’s ironic. I thought my broken bones were behind me when he died.” She pushed the refrigerator door closed with her hip only to lose her balance at the last minute. Her crutches fell to the floor, along with the bowl. It shattered, sending glass and chili flying.

“Shit!” Harsh, angry tears clouded her eyes. Chili splattered the stone floor, the cupboard, her jeans and sneakers. Shards of glass were everywhere.

Annie rushed to her side. “Get cleaned up. I’ll take care of this.”

Jaycie sagged against the icebox and stared at the mess. “I can’t depend on other people. I have to take care of myself.”

“Not right now, you don’t.” Annie spoke as firmly as she could. “Tell me where I can find a bucket.”

She stayed for the rest of the afternoon. No matter how tired she was, she wouldn’t leave Jaycie like this. She cleaned up the chili mess and managed the dishes in the sink, doing her best to muffle her cough when Jaycie was nearby. All the while, she kept an eye out for Theo Harp. Knowing he was so close unnerved her, but she wouldn’t let Jaycie see that. Before she left, she did something she’d never imagined. She fixed his dinner.

She gazed into the bowl of doctored tomato soup, leftover hamburger, instant white rice, and frozen corn. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen any rat poison lying around,” she said as Jaycie hobbled across the kitchen. “Never mind. This meal is already disgusting enough.”

“He won’t notice. He doesn’t care about food.”

All he cared about was hurting people.

She carried the dinner tray down the back hallway. As she placed it in the dumbwaiter, she remembered the terror of being trapped inside that tight enclosure. Everything had been pitch-black. She was squeezed into a ball, her knees squashed to her chest. Theo had been sentenced to spend two days in his room for that, and only Annie had noticed that Regan, his twin, had sneaked in to keep him company.

Regan had been as sweet and shy as Theo was mean and selfish. But unless Regan was playing her oboe or writing poetry in her purple notebook, brother and sister had been inseparable. Annie suspected she and Regan would have become real friends if Theo hadn’t made sure that didn’t happen.

Jaycie’s eyes filled when it came time for Annie to leave. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

Annie hid her fatigue. “You already did. Eighteen years ago.” She hesitated, knowing what she should do, not wanting to, but finally making the only choice she could live with. “I’ll come back tomorrow for a little bit to help out.”

Jaycie’s eyes flew open. “You don’t have to do that!”

“It’ll be good for me,” she lied. “Keep me from brooding.” A new thought came to her. “Does the house have WiFi?” When Jaycie nodded, she managed a smile. “Perfect. I’ll bring my laptop. You’ll be helping me. There’s some research I have to do.”

Jaycie grabbed a tissue and pressed it to her eyes. “Thank you. It means a lot.”

Jaycie disappeared to find Livia, and Annie went to get her coat. Despite her exhaustion, she was glad to have done something to help repay her old debt. She began to pull on her gloves, then hesitated. She couldn’t stop thinking about that dumbwaiter.

Go on, Scamp whispered. You know you want to.

Don’t you think that’s a little immature? Dilly replied.

Definitely, Scamp said.

Annie remembered her younger self, so desperate to make Theo like her. She crept through the kitchen. Moving as quietly as she could, she stepped into the back hallway and down the narrow passage to the end. She stared at the door of the dumbwaiter. Edgar Allan Poe had a monopoly on “Nevermore,” and “Rosebud” was hardly terrifying. “You will die in seven days” seemed too specific. But she’d watched a lot of television when she was sick, including Apocalypse Now . . .

She opened the door of the dumbwaiter, lowered her head, and uttered, in a soft, creepy moan, “The horror . . .” The words uncoiled like a hissing snake. “The horrrror . . .”

She got goose bumps.

Sick! Scamp exclaimed in delight.

Juvenile, but satisfying, Dilly said.

Annie hurried back the way she’d come and let herself out. Staying in the shadows where she couldn’t be spotted from the turret, she made her way to the drive.

Harp House finally had the ghost it deserved.