some kind of clue as to what had happened, something that would mean something only to me.
Go on. Don’t be a chicken.
It was just bricks and stucco. What did she think was inside? A body? Not likely. The police had already searched the house. When she was sure she had herself under control, she hiked up the steps to the front door, for the moment leaving all her stuff in the car. As she slid the key for the front lock into place she wondered if it still worked. When the key turned and the lock clicked open, she breathed a sigh of relief.
Automatically, she reached for the alarm panel in the front hall, then remembered Sheri said it wasn’t functioning. That a whole new one would need to be installed. How very weird. It was always on.
At least the air-conditioning had been left on, a blessedly cool change from the furnace that was Florida heat in the summer. Jingling the key ring, she walked through the house, looking around, although she had no idea what she expected to find.
The house was open and airy, with a wall of windows the length of one side that looked out to the lawn and beyond that to the bay itself. Her father had hired a decorator and given her free rein. The result was a tastefully decorated home that was open and welcoming.
As she walked from room to room, the same eerie feeling that gripped her when she’d stood in front of the house swept over her again. As if something very bad happened here. The chill racing over her skin had nothing to do with the artificially cooled air. She sensed a presence of evil in the air, and kept looking over her shoulder, as if expecting someone to pop out of a closet.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. I’ve been watching too much television.
She wandered into his den, seeking any kind of clue. Framed photos of herself and her mother and the three of them sat on the credenza but the desk was uncharacteristically bare. There was nothing on it, not an open book, a stack of papers, nothing. No sign of any activity, yet this was the room where he spent much of his time. How strange. Except...
Damn. Sheri was right. The computer was on his desk but the hard drive was gone. She checked all the drawers, although she was sure the police had already done this. No hard drive, internal or external, and no laptop. She’d forgotten to ask about that. Would he have taken all that with him? What did he plan to do with all his information if he’d decided to disappear? Could he run his business if no one knew where he was?
Again that icy feeling raced over her skin, the kind you got when people told ghost stories in the dark. As if strangers had been here, and not the ones investigating Graham Cole’s disappearance. Could evil leave a sense of its presence?
Evil? Really?
Dramatic much, Devon?
She just couldn’t shake the feeling something was off.
If only she’d forced the issue, made him talk to her. Fixed whatever barriers had been thrown up between them. Maybe she’d have a clue as to what was going on.
For a moment she considered the B and B in town, but why spend money she didn’t have to? A house couldn’t harm you, right?
A loud noise from the kitchen made her pulse leap and her heart thump. She grabbed a golf club leaning against the wall, tiptoed down the hall, and peered into the room. Nothing. No one. Should she step inside? What if someone was hiding in the alcove? With the alarm system not working anyone could come into the house.
Then the noise repeated, and she blew out a breath when she realized what it was. The icemaker in the refrigerator was disgorging cubes into the container.
Devon sat down at the breakfast bar, hands still shaking, and tried to steady herself. Maybe staying here wasn’t such a good idea at all. Was she crazy to think someone had left an imprint here and it wasn’t her father?
There’s nothing here. Give your imagination a rest.
The landline on the kitchen wall rang, startling her. Who would be calling? Most of her father’s calls had come in on his cell phone. Automatically she reached for it.
“Hello?”
Dead silence.
She waited, then, “Hello? Is someone there?”
Still silence. Why did the words dead silence come to mind? Then she heard it, the faint sound of someone breathing.
“If someone is there, speak up, or else I’m hanging up this phone.”
When there was still no answer, she replaced the receiver, irritated. And troubled. She wanted to believe it was kids making prank calls, but with her father’s disappearance it took on a more ominous feeling.
Right, Devon. Make this into some big deal. A lousy phone call. Probably just some wrong number and they were too embarrassed to say anything.
Maybe. She was not someone given to flights of fancy or premonitions. If anything, she was solidly grounded and practical to a fault. Only nothing had felt right to her since she walked in the front door, and the phone call had just added to the feeling of unease. She had a sudden need to get out of there, be with noise and crowds. Her stuff could wait until later. Right now she needed to be with people. A lot of people.
She had just headed out of the kitchen when the phone rang again. With a mixture of impatience and dread she picked up the receiver.
“Hello?”
Silence again.
“Listen. Whoever you are, either talk to me or I’m hanging up. If you call again, I won’t be here.”
She slammed the receiver back in the cradle. That did it for her. She needed to get out of here and find Sheri right away.
Her stomach chose that moment to grumble, reminding her she also needed food. She’d left Tampa two hours ago with only a large Starbucks in her stomach, and said stomach was now sending her signals. She remembered the housekeeper kept the fridge and the freezer stocked with basics so she could just fix herself something if she wanted to. But the eerie feeling wouldn’t let go.
Sheri had said to call or come by as soon as she got into town, and right now seemed like a very good time to do that. Going straight to the police station seemed the best thing to do. She’d feel better seeing Sheri, anyway. Maybe she could help Devon put her feelings in perspective. The police had gone over the house thoroughly. Surely if something was out of whack, they’d have found it and told her. Something besides the jacked alarm system.
I’m just letting my mind play tricks on me. That has to be it.
Okay. That was it. She was getting out of here for a while. She’d head right for the police station and try to find out where things stood. She should have gone there right away. And she wanted to know what the latest was with the Coast Guard. The whole thing was still so unreal to her.
She walked through the house to the garage, still carrying the golf club and peeking around doors and walls. And feeling like an idiot. She found the extra remotes for the garage door and grabbed one, then hurried back through the house and out the front door. Without understanding why, she checked three times to make sure the front door was locked. She also looked carefully around as she got into her car, as if expecting to see someone peeking at her from behind the garage or one of the many massive trees that dotted the place.
Damn.
