But he knew he was looking for something more.
He let himself in through the open gate and slowly walked up the path to the steps. He looked up at the house and told himself that it was just that. A house. Brick, mortar, wood. A house. It didn’t live and breathe. No matter what Debbie thought, the house hadn’t saved her. Brick, mortar and wood would not—could not—reach out to help people.
But Leslie would.
Great. Now he was going to force himself to walk into the house, where he would no doubt imagine that he could hear her voice. That she was still there.
No, he told himself. He was going to step into the house, discover that the wiring was shot and the security system was going haywire.
He walked up the steps to the porch.
The front door opened.
He walked in.
It looked just the same as it had the other night. He looked up the stairway, lit by the pale red security lights. He examined the furnishings there in the entry, checked out the runner that protected the hardwood floor. There was an oil painting on the wall, a rider in a tricorn hat. Candles in sconces.
There were no sounds this time, though. None at all.
Strangely, the house felt warm. It was a museum, he reminded himself. It had to be kept at a certain temperature to protect the antique furnishings. But it wasn’t good, and it wasn’t evil. It was simply a house.
Joe…
The sense of warmth increased, as if he were being comforted, beckoned. He felt something brush against his cheek, the touch almost tender.
“I want you to be here,” he said aloud, feeling like a fool but unable to stop himself.
His cell phone started to ring. He answered it. “Connolly.”
There was no one there. “Dammit,” he muttered aloud, and closed the phone.
Well, what the hell had he expected? That he was going to walk in and Leslie would be there, waiting for him in jeans and a T-shirt, hair loose and manner easy? That in her casual yet somehow intense manner, she would invite him in for tea?
“I’m an idiot.”
He turned back toward the door.
Then he felt the hand. A hand, dammit. On his shoulder.
Joe…
He heard his name again, but it wasn’t Leslie’s voice.
It was Matt’s!
Oh, hell, he really was crazy. Leslie wasn’t here, welcoming him in. She was here with Matt. They had taken up residence in Hastings House, or maybe just within the tortured confines of his mind.
It’s all right. Please, we can help.
He muttered a curt expletive and turned, staring intently into the shadows.
There! Had that shadow moved? Was there something misty taking shape in front of him? Would he be shaking hands with his cousin in a matter of moments?
He swore again. Maybe it really was time for that psychotherapy now.
He winced. “If…if you’re there, leave me the hell alone, will you, please?” he whispered.
Crazy. He had gone completely crazy.
He turned around and left the house, hardly noticing when the lock clicked into place as the door shut behind him.
CHAPTER 14
Lori Star made all the morning shows.
It was sad, Gen thought, that she would have been glad to know she was, even in such a horrible way, immortalized.
Genevieve had gotten up early and headed home. Now, watching television in her own apartment, she decided to call her mother and reinforce the need for her to stay home, where she would be safe. She was turning into a nagging parent, she realized. Too bad.
“I don’t want you going anywhere alone,” she told her mother. “Or with Lou or Lila or any of them,” she added firmly.
“Genevieve, seriously. It can’t be any of them,” Eileen said.
“I mean it. I can’t believe you went out last night.”
“So did you.”
“I don’t trust that group, and I don’t want you trusting them, either.”
“You trust Adam. And Joe,” Eileen said.
“Don’t turn this around. Just don’t go anywhere today. Promise?”
A sigh. “I promise,” Eileen said. “Speaking of which…I’m curious. About Adam. You called him? You asked him to come?” she said.
“Yes.”
“Leslie believed in him, you know. He was very dear to her.”
“I know. I take it he’s a friend of yours, too?”
“Well, the families, you know. I’ve met him at various functions over the years. And then, last year, when I hired Joe and everyone was looking for you…well, yes, I saw quite a lot of him then.”
Genevieve waited for her mother to elaborate further. When she didn’t, Gen asked, “Did you…?”
“Did I ever need help with anything paranormal? No,” Eileen said. “But Adam is a very good man.” She hesitated. “Joe knows that. I hope he’ll trust him with…whatever.”
“I hope so, too. I…um, I love you, Mother.”
“I love you, too. More than I can ever say,” Eileen said softly.
At ten, Adam called Genevieve. “My friends have arrived,” he told her. “Brent and Nikki Blackhawk.”
“You saw how Joe was last night. I don’t think he’ll want to meet with them.”