Grace drank the rest of her coffee and then topped it off. She returned to her half-eaten piece of toast.
“Have you seen Albert?” I asked.
She shook her head and crossed one leg in front of the other.
“Ummmph. I haven’t seen him since last night when the police showed up. Must have spooked him.”
Grace said nothing.
I gestured to a chair. “You know you can sit at the table and eat.”
She shoved the rest of the toast into her mouth and rinsed off her plate. Grace was a feisty one. Picking up her coffee mug, she started toward her bedroom but stopped before venturing down the hallway. Slowly, she turned around.
“The lock you put on my door.”
“Yeah,” I said.
Her eyes narrowed in an accusatory way. “You installed it the wrong way.” She raised her chin and put her free hand on her hip. “Was that intentional? Are you trying to keep me here?” Her voice had a tinge of frustration in it—mixed with something else. It was fear. Grace was afraid of me.
“No, of course not.” I stood too quickly. The chair reeled backward and hit the floor with a thud.
Grace took a step back. Her eyes went to the porch door and then back to me.
I bent down slowly and picked up the chair. Shaking my head, I looked over at her. The whites of her eyes were on full display.
“It was an honest mistake. I’ll fix it, okay?”
She pursed her lips together. “An honest mistake? Honest? You sure about that?” she asked, cocking her head.
Grace was hiding something, but what was it? What did Joe tell her? What did she find? She was treating me like a stranger—no, worse than that, like I was a danger to her.
“Yes, honest. Like I said, I’ll fix it.”
“You do whatever you want. I’m going for a run.” She stomped toward her bedroom. “One of the guys from the auto shop is swinging by to fix your car tonight,” I called out.
“Good,” Grace yelled over her shoulder.
I let out a deep breath. How had things gotten so bad so quickly? The more time I spent with Grace, the less I seemed to know about her. She was a peculiar woman, and she was clearly hiding something. I suppose we all were. But living alone on a ranch with only animals to talk to, you learn what the animal will do before it does it. And at the core, we’re all animals.
43.
Grace
I stomped across the porch, past my broken car, and down the driveway. I had to get away and clear my head. How far could I get from this place on foot? Could I make it back into town? My head was a foggy mess thanks to a night of no sleep. It felt like someone was in my room watching me. There was a presence. The house creaked all night long, and I could hear someone on the other side of my bedroom door most of the evening. I wasn’t sure if it was Albert or Calvin standing outside my room, listening to me sleep. At one point, I even grabbed the knife, clutching it all night. I shook out my left hand, trying to expel the achiness. This wasn’t how any of this was supposed to go.
I kicked at the gravel while I walked. My brain swirled with thoughts. I didn’t buy that installing the lock the wrong way was an honest mistake. Calvin’s a fricking handyman. How could he screw something that simple up? Unless he did it on purpose. And Albert, his fake Airbnb guest. Why was he lying about that? Then, the most damning of it all. The guest book with Briana Becker’s name. Calvin lied to Sheriff Almond. She was here. Had he done something to her? Heck, maybe Charlotte did. She was clearly obsessed with Calvin. She hadn’t been around in two days, but I still felt like she was around—just waiting for me to leave. Then there was Joe. Was he the only one telling the truth, or was he lying too?
I wanted to scream, and I wanted to be as far away from this place as possible. Halfway down the driveway, I quickened my pace from a fast walk to a full-on sprint. As soon as my stride hit, I stepped onto a large uneven rock and came crashing to the ground at the end of the driveway. My ankle nearly folded under itself. The gravel scraped my knees and the palms of my hands. I screamed out in pain.
“No, no, no, no, no, no,” I cried as I held my ankle. “This can’t be fucking happening.”
“Grace,” Calvin called out.
I turned back, watching him sprint toward me. My lying knight in fake armor. Oh no, no, no. I flexed my ankle and then wiggled it side to side. It wasn’t as bad as I thought. A little pain on the ball of it.
Calvin knelt beside me. “Grace, are you okay?” His brows knitted together as caught his breath.
“Yeah, I just tripped.” I looked at my bloody palms and knees.
“Let’s get you inside and cleaned up,” he said. “Can you walk?”
“I think so.” He grabbed my arm and pulled me to a standing position. I took a step. The pain was nothing compared to the fear I felt with Calvin’s hands on me. He led me back up the driveway, back toward the goddamn house I so desperately wanted to get away from.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, helping me up the steps of the porch.
I nodded but didn’t say a word.
Inside, Calvin set me on the couch. Within a matter of minutes, he had my ankle propped up with a pillow and an ice pack on it. He cleaned and bandaged my scrapes and cuts. It was like he was happy to be doing this. Every touch from him felt like a needle piercing my skin.
“I’m tired of the lies.” The words tumbled out of my mouth. I wanted to suck them back in. I was in too vulnerable a position to accuse him of anything. But I knew Calvin liked to be challenged.
“What lies?” He leaned back and stared into my eyes. “I’m not lying to you.”
I chose my next words carefully. “Do you keep photos of all your Airbnb guests?” I slid the picture of Albert, Calvin, and Joe from my pocket and held it in front of him.
“Where did you get that?” His skin flushed, and I wasn’t sure if it was due to anger or embarrassment of being caught in his little lie.
I tossed the photo at him. “It doesn’t matter.”
He picked it up and looked at it fondly. “I told you not to go into the basement.” Calvin raised his head, refocusing his attention back on me.
I sat up taller, trying to make myself look bigger like prey would do with a predator. I raised my chin, trying to make myself look unafraid. I widened my eyes, trying to show him that I was not about to back down. Calvin stood and started to pace the living room.
He let out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry, Grace. I lied about Albert. He’s my uncle, my degenerate uncle. And I’m just embarrassed of him. He shows up every few months and crashes with me, picks up some of his stuff from the basement, and then he’s gone after a few days. I just didn’t want you to associate him with me.”