The comb stills, and I sense the change in him. He stiffens. My fingers curl inward, blunt nails digging into my palms.
“Don’t move,” he says, rising and stepping around me. He leaves the room, and I hear the door lock in place.
I don’t move.
I remain on my knees, shivering and straining to hear anything, but there’s nothing but the muted sound of cows. If I listen hard enough, I will hear a horse.
A door slams shut somewhere.
My chest aches and the shivers turn into trembles, but I don’t move. I don’t dare move. Heavy footsteps thunder. Something crashes. He’s in a mood again. Oh God, he’s in a mood, and I’m going to die—no.
No, this isn’t real anymore. This is a nightmare. Wake up. Wake up!
I woke up.
“I should’ve gotten those railings fixed a long time ago.” Mom fretted, pacing in front of the small window like a nervous bird. “You could’ve cracked your head open.”
Shifting my gaze to the dull drop ceilings, I slowly turned my head to the left. A dull spike of pain flared. “My skull is too thick for that.”
The way-too-young-looking doctor at the foot of the bed smiled as she scribbled in my chart. “You’re actually lucky.”
“That means I get to go home?”
“No.” She hooked the chart at the end of the bed and slipped her pen into the front pocket of her lab coat. “You’re here for the night.”
Frustration rose. “But—”
“You lost consciousness, and even though you currently don’t have signs of a serious concussion, we want to monitor you for the next twenty-four hours just to make sure everything is okay.” She moved over to the pole where what I felt was a very unnecessary IV bag was hooked up. “If everything checks out fine in the morning, you’ll be free to go home.”
“Sorry.” Mom drifted to the bed and started fiddling with the thin blanket draped over my legs. “Sasha isn’t very good with the whole hospital thing.”
“Not many people are.” Her cool fingers checked the IV as her smile turned absent. “The nurses will be in here in about thirty minutes to check on you. If you need anything, you know where the call button is.” The doctor turned as the curtain parted. “Perfect timing.”
My gaze flickered over her shoulder, and I wanted to sink through the bed when I saw who was parting the sea-green curtain.
Officer Derek Bradshaw, of course. He must be the only cop on duty in the entire world.
His brow rose as he stepped around the doctor. “Small world,” he murmured, approaching the bed. “Cole know about this?”
I squeezed my eyes shut briefly. “Haven’t exactly had the chance to fill him in,” I said. “He’s at work. I don’t want—”
“You’re in the hospital. He’s going to want to know and that’s not a bother to him. Ever.” He glanced over at my mom. “What’s going on?”
“A man pushed her down the steps of the staff staircase,” Mom answered. “She almost fell through the cellar door! God knows how long she would’ve lain there if poor old Daphne hadn’t found her. Nearly gave her a heart attack. Thought I was going to have to call two ambulances.”
His gaze sharpened.
“That’s not exactly what happened.” I rose onto my elbows, but a dull thump spiked along my temples, so I decided almost at once that lying on my back was A-okay. “I mean, the door opened quickly and I couldn’t move out of the way. That’s what technically knocked me down the steps.”
Officer Bradshaw frowned as his shoulder radio crackled. “I need some clarification on this. Were you pushed or was it an accident?”
“Don’t downplay the situation,” Mom warned as she dropped into the really uncomfortable chair next to the bed. “This is serious.”
“She’s right, Sasha.” Officer Bradshaw shifted closer. “I need to know exactly what happened.”
Biting on my lip, I let out a ragged sigh. “I was coming downstairs to get the Ritchies their extra key, and when I reached the main-floor landing, the door to the old kitchen swung open so fast I didn’t get a chance to move out of the way. The doorknob caught me in the stomach.” Using the IV hand, I gestured at my stomach. “I fell back and my foot slipped on the step. I grabbed the railing to steady myself and it broke. That was how I fell.”
“Should’ve gotten the railing fixed,” Mom muttered.
“Mom,” I sighed.
“So you weren’t pushed?” Derek asked.
I shook my head and winced. “No. I think it was an accident. He cursed twice, like out of surprise, but . . .”
Mom clucked her tongue. “But if it were a true accident, he would’ve stayed with you or gotten help. He wouldn’t have just left you lying there.”
There was that.
“We also don’t know who the man was,” Mom continued. “It wasn’t James, and he’s the only man who has any business being back in the old part of the kitchen.”
There was also that. “I don’t think I know who he was,” I clarified. “I didn’t exactly see him. Like I said, it happened so fast, all I caught a glimpse of was a white shirt and a black baseball cap. There was something on it. A gray emblem of some sort.” My brows knitted together. “And I think he was white—no, I’m sure he was white. Other than that, that’s all I saw of him.”
Derek had pulled out that notebook of his and was scribbling away again. “And it’s not possible that it was a guest who checked in?”
“The only male guest who was in was Mr. Ritchie,” I explained, swallowing as I lifted my hand and gingerly touched the side of my head. There was a nice little knot there. “There was no way he made it downstairs.”
“Anyone else who could’ve been in the inn?” he asked.
Mom answered, “No.”
I shifted slowly as I thought back to the hazy moments after I hit the floor. “I think . . . I’m not sure about this, but I think he stepped over me before I passed out. I thought I heard a door open behind me—the main cellar door.”
“You think he went out through the cellar and not back out the other way?” Derek asked, looking over at my mom. “Can you get out of the inn from the cellar?”
Mom glanced at the ceiling, her nose scrunching. “There used to be a tunnel that ran out to the old family cemetery—the one that’s way at the end of the property.”
The old creepy cemetery that used to be overgrown until my father cleared it out while I was in middle school. The team that did the maintenance on the yard also took care of the cemetery.
“Those tunnels, they were used to get people in and out of the house when it was used as a part of the Underground Railroad,” Mom explained. “But my husband closed off that tunnel years ago.”
“Are you sure about that?” he asked.
“Well, of course . . .” Her nose scrunched again. “I haven’t been out to the cemetery in a long time, but I can’t imagine how the tunnel would’ve reopened.”