The Red Hunter(58)

“Okay,” said Claudia. Her hands were shaking.

“Do you want me to stay on the phone until they get there?” the dispatcher asked.

“Yes,” said Claudia. “There are two children sleeping in the house. Teenagers.”

“I’ll advise patrol,” she said. “Can you see the intruder?”

The light inside the barn went dark, and then the form slipped out again. Claudia strained to see his face, but she couldn’t. He was too far, and even though the moon was bright, he seemed composed only of shadow. Then he was moving quickly, away from the house, across the clearing behind the barn and into the trees.

“He’s moved from the barn into the woods,” she said.

“I’ll advise patrol,” said the operator again. Calm, professional. Claudia was soothed by her voice.

She heard the sirens then, and a few moments later a prowler moved quickly up the drive—lights flashing but silent. As soon as the vehicle stopped, two officers climbed out, one headed into the barn, the other toward the trees.

“They’re here,” Claudia said, releasing a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.

“Okay,” said the operator. “Stay inside until the officers come to the door. Do you want me to stay on the line?”

“No,” said Claudia even though she wanted to say yes. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, ma’am.” The operator ended the call.

“Mom,” said Raven from behind her. “What’s happening?”

“There was someone in the barn,” said Claudia. She wiped away at tears—anger, fear, exhaustion. Raven moved up close to look out the window. The officers were returning to the house. Claudia hurried down to meet them.

It was Officer Dilbert again, and another even younger looking officer, this one a female. Raven stayed inside the door, while Claudia went out into the cold, slipping on the slippers she kept by the door.

“We didn’t see anyone, ma’am,” said Officer Dilbert. “But there were boot prints over by the trees.”

“We’ve had a rash of vehicle and empty home break-ins lately,” said the young woman, her thick curls pulled back tight. “Some petty thefts. You said just one intruder?”

“That I saw.”

“Also, ma’am?” said Officer Dilbert, seeming more like a teenager than ever. “You know with the history of the property and how long it has stood empty, there are rumors that the place is haunted. So local kids sometimes sneak out here on a dare.”

Something about the way he said it, she wondered if he had been one of those kids once.

“You know,” said Claudia, “folks keep alluding to the history of this house. But I don’t know what you mean. What history?”

The two officers exchanged a look. “Sorry, ma’am,” said Officer Dilbert. “I thought you knew.”

She shook her head, wrapped her robe tight around her. Dread dug a pit in her stomach. She could feel Raven vibrating behind her.

“Maybe ten years ago now, longer, I guess,” he said. “A man—a police officer and his wife were murdered here. They had a young daughter; she survived.”

“Murdered?” said Claudia. The word shredded her. How could she not have known this? “How? Why?”

“The perpetrators were never caught,” said Officer Dilbert. “But they were allegedly looking for some money that had been stolen. They tortured the family in an attempt to recover it, but as far as anyone knows, that money was never found.”

“Some folks think it’s out here,” said Officer Williams. “They come looking sometimes.”

“Of course, it’s not,” said Officer Dilbert. “Someone would have found it long ago if it was.”

Claudia couldn’t believe what she was hearing. How could she not have known this? Wouldn’t her father have said something if his tenants were murdered on the property he owned? But maybe not. The guy barely ever talked; her most vivid memories of him were of him blanked out in front of some game or reading the paper. She thought back. Ten years—Raven had been small. Maybe it happened when Claudia had been at Martha’s place in New Mexico, trying to figure out her life, her marriage. Or maybe news of a murder in the tiny burg of Lost Valley, New Jersey, didn’t make it to the city.

She turned back to the house. Raven looked stricken in the doorway, and Troy had come to stand behind her, his mouth hanging open. The house, so full of promise and possibility, suddenly seemed to radiate menace.

“We can request that your house is put on regular patrol, have a squad car loop the drive once or twice a night. When I’m on duty, I’ll be sure to come by. I work graveyard—midnight to eight.”

Claudia felt herself nodding.

“Now that you’re here, fixing the place up, I bet kids’ll stop coming after a while. And if someone’s casing the place, a regular patrol might act as a deterrent.”

Claudia was still nodding, but she felt like the ground beneath her feet was shifting and shaking. She leaned against the porch step banister to support herself.

“I thought you must have known, Mrs. Bishop.”

“No,” she said.

“My friend Seth Murphy was the one who called the police that night. We went to school with the girl who lived here—Zoey Drake.”