The edges of her vision went gray, making her only able to focus on that bottom, unfastened dead bolt. She was frozen, not even capable of reaching forward and locking the single barrier between her and the outdoors. The outer door resettled into place with a thud, followed by the click of the lock.
That tiny sound released her from her terror-induced paralysis, and she grabbed at the door. Before she could reach the dead bolt, though, reason wormed its way through her panicky thoughts and reminded her that the outer door was now closed. Compared to her recent overwhelming surge of fear, her twinge of nervousness at not knowing who was waiting between the doors felt inconsequential.
Another timid knock, on the closer door that time, had her turning the doorknob before she’d even thought it through. As she opened the door, Daisy saw a woman who couldn’t have been an inch over five feet tall. Her strawberry-blond hair was in a pixie cut, and she was wearing black-framed glasses and a peach-colored pantsuit.
“Hello.” The woman’s voice was as tentative as her knock had been. “I’m so sorry to bother you, but I’m Natalie Sharp, with Mintle Real Estate?” Her voice went up at the end, as if asking Daisy if she recognized the name.
Daisy shook her head. The unexpected appearance of her visitor had knocked the panic right out of her, so she was able to function like a seminormal person. “Sorry. It’s not familiar, but then I don’t get out much. I’m Daisy Little.”
“Nice to meet you.” Natalie’s hesitation faded, as if the polite exchange had allowed her to regain her composure. Stepping through the doorway, she held out her hand. As Daisy shook it, she reached over with her other arm to shove the inner door closed. Despite the lack of fastened locks, it was nice having a solid obstacle between her and the outer door.
The realtor peered around as if she was checking out what parts of the house she could see. Daisy figured it was probably a professional hazard.
“Did you need something?” Daisy asked when the woman had been silently looking around for a while. “We aren’t interested in selling the house, I’m afraid.”
“Oh, no.” Natalie pulled her attention back to Daisy’s face. “Although it’s a beautiful place. If you ever are considering selling, here’s my card.” She pulled out a white rectangle and handed it to Daisy.
“Okay…?” Bemused, she accepted the business card.
Natalie gave a small laugh. “Oh, I’m sorry again. Your gorgeous ceramic tile floors distracted me. I just finished showing the house right across the street to a couple, and I was hoping you could answer a few questions for me about the neighborhood and…well, some other things.”
The mention of the place Daisy had mentally been referring to as—in a rather morbid and not very creative way—the dead-body house brought all her attention to the realtor. Her near-mental breakdown was temporarily forgotten as curiosity took precedence.
“Did you want to come inside?” Daisy asked, gesturing toward the archway into the kitchen.
“Oh, I’d love to.” Natalie was already heading into the kitchen. Giving the unlocked inner door a single glance, Daisy hurried after her guest.
“Would you like some coffee?” she asked. Although she was dying to know about the house across the street, she figured she should be polite. The realtor’s questions would probably just be the standard and boring ones, like whether there were many children in the area or if anyone threw loud parties late at night. Daisy wondered if she should let Natalie know about Corbin and his destructive tendencies.
“No, thank you. I’m not really a coffee drinker.” Natalie was closely examining the cupboard doors. “Did you recently remodel?”
“Yes.” Since Daisy had a feeling that a conversation about home renovations could go on for hours with Natalie, she prompted, “You mentioned you had some questions about the neighborhood?”
“Oh, yes.” Turning away from studying the countertops, she gave Daisy a wide smile. Despite the realtor’s attempt at pretending to be at ease, she seemed nervous, which was strange. “As I mentioned, I showed the house to a young couple this morning. Very nice pair. They’d been looking in Connor Springs, but places in this area are a bit closer to their price range.”
Daisy nodded, still trying to figure out what was making Natalie so tense.
“Do you know why the owners are selling?”
“They moved to Florida about eight months ago,” Daisy said. “I wasn’t…um, close with them, but I heard they were sick of the cold and snow. They were travel agents, so they switched from arranging ski vacations to beach trips. There were two kids, a boy and a girl, about ten or twelve? I’m not really good at guessing kids’ ages.” She didn’t mention that it was especially difficult when you only had an oblique view of the children from an upstairs window. When they’d moved, Daisy hadn’t been too sad, since the parents hadn’t provided much entertainment, and the kids had liked to knock on her door and run away.
“Did anything…well, unusual happen there?”