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Deserves to Die (Alvarez & Pescoli)

Page 118

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“Where is this coming from?” Sarah demanded.

“Just sayin’.” Jade dropped her phone into her bag. “And Becky told me the house is haunted.”

“So now you’re listening to Becky?” Sarah set the parking brake and reached for the handle of the door. The day was quickly going from bad to worse. “I didn’t think you liked her.”

“I don’t.” Jade sighed theatrically. “I’m just telling you what she said.” Becky was Jade’s cousin, the daughter of Sarah’s older sister, Dee Linn. “But it’s not like I have a zillion friends here, is it?”

“Okay. Got it.” In Sarah’s opinion, Becky wasn’t to be trusted; she was one of those teenaged girls who loved to gossip and stir things up a bit, gleeful to cause a little trouble, especially for someone else. Becky cut a wide swath through everyone else’s social life. Just like her mother. No doubt Becky’d heard from Dee Linn the tales that Blue Peacock Manor harbored its own special ghosts. That kind of gossip, swirling so close to home, just barely touching her life but not ruining it, was right up Dee Linn’s alley.

Gracie said, “I think the house looks kinda cool. Creepy cool.”

Jade snorted. “What would you know about cool?”

“Hey . . . ,” Sarah warned her oldest.

Used to her older sister’s barbs, Gracie pulled the passive-aggressive card and acted as if she hadn’t heard the nasty ring to her sister’s question. As her seat belt clicked open, she changed the conversation back to her favorite topic. “Can we get a dog, Mom?” Before Sarah could respond, she added quickly, “You said we could. Remember? Once we moved here, you said we’d look for a dog.”

“I believe I said ‘I’ll think about it.’ ”

“Jade got a car,” Gracie pointed out.

From the front seat, Jade said, “That’s different.”

“No, it’s not.” To her mother, Gracie threw back Sarah’s own words, “ ‘A promise is a promise.’ That’s what you always say.” Gracie regarded her mother coolly as she clambered out of the backseat.

“I know.” How could Sarah possibly forget the argument that had existed since her youngest had turned five? Gracie was nuts about all animals, and she’d been lobbying for a pet forever.

Once her younger daughter was out of earshot, Sarah said to Jade, “It wouldn’t kill you to be nice to your sister.”

Jade threw her mother a disbelieving look and declared, “This is so gonna suck!”

“Only if you let it.” Sarah was tired of the ongoing argument that had started the second she’d announced the move two weeks ago. She’d waited until the real estate deal with her siblings was completed and she had hired a crew to start working before breaking the news to her kids. “This is a chance for all of us to have a new start.”

“I don’t care. The ‘new start’ thing? That’s on you. For you. And maybe her,” she added, hitching her chin toward the windshield.

Sarah followed her gaze and watched Gracie hike up the broken flagstone path, where dandelions and moss had replaced the mortar years before. A tangle of leggy, gone-to-seed rosebushes were a reminder of how long

the house had been neglected. Once upon a time, Sarah’s mother had tended the gardens and orchard to the point of obsession, but that had been years ago. Now a solitary crow flapped to a perch in a skeletal cherry tree near the guesthouse, then pulled its head in tight, against the rain.

“Come on, Jade. Give me a break,” Sarah said.

“You give me one.” Jade rolled her eyes and unbuckled her seat belt, digging out her cell phone and attempting to text. “Smartphone, my ass—er, butt.”

“Again, watch the language.” Sarah pocketed her keys and tried not to let her temper get control of her tongue. “Grab your stuff, Jade. Like it or not, we’re home.”

“I can not believe this is my life.”

“Believe it.” Sarah shoved open the driver’s side door, then walked to the rear of the vehicle to pull her computer and suitcase from the cargo area.

Of course, she too had doubts about moving here. The project she planned to tackle—renovating the place to its former grandeur before selling it—was daunting, perhaps impossible. Even when she’d been living here with all her siblings, the huge house had been sinking into disrepair. Since her father had died, things had really gone downhill. Paint was peeling from the siding, and many of the shiplap boards were warped. The wide porch that ran along the front of the house seemed to be listing, rails missing, and there were holes in the roof where there had once been shingles.

“It looks evil, you know,” Jade threw over her shoulder before hauling her rolling bag out of the cargo space and reluctantly trudging after her sister. “I’ve always hated it.”

Sarah managed to hold back a hot retort. The last time she’d brought her children here, she and her own mother, Arlene, had gotten into a fight, a blistering battle of words that precipitated their final, painful rift. Though Gracie was probably too small to remember, Jade certainly did.

Gracie was nearly at the steps when she stopped suddenly to stare upward at the house. “What the . . . ?”

“Come on,” Jade said to her younger sister, but Gracie didn’t move, even when Sarah joined her daughters and a big black crow landed on one of the rusted gutters.



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