The Spite House(34)



He went to the living room window and saw Dess running hard back toward the house, having rounded the empty orphanage in the valley. He felt his tension soften, but not melt. How many laps did she plan to take? He needed to let her know that she couldn’t be pulling stunts like this anymore. He went to the couch and gathered Stacy up. She groaned, hugged him around the neck, and put her head on his shoulder.

“I’m still tired,” she said.

“We’re just going to check on your sister. I’ll bring you right back.”

He carried her out the front door and made sure to close it behind him hard enough for the sound to bound through the valley, so Dess could hear it.

A car pulled within about twenty yards of the house and parked. It was a small, nondescript four-door, nothing like the trucks and vans the movers had driven yesterday, or the black luxury sedan Dana drove. Its door opened and out stepped a short, stout middle-aged white woman who looked to Eric like the kind of person who got overcompetitive during a friendly softball game or team-building exercise.

She removed her sunglasses before asking him, “Are you the new keeper of the castle?”

He rolled through his possible responses in his head. Eunice had assured him yesterday evening that no one from town would harass him. “Nobody here is inclined to do such a thing. That’s not how we raise ’em in Degener. You probably passed through other towns on the way here that gave you the opposite impression, but here, we don’t tolerate that shit.”

She’d sounded almost too convincing, which was what had prompted him to test whether Dana might verify what he’d read in that article. In that moment, Eunice had sounded exactly like someone who could strong-arm a group of people into thinking and behaving the way she wanted them to. And yet, here someone was, not quite twenty-four hours after they had officially moved in.

He decided to have faith in Eunice’s words and introduced himself in a polite but firm tone. “I am. I’m Eric.”

He moved Stacy over to his left arm so that he could shake hands with the woman, who said, “Nice to meet you, Eric. I’m Emily Steen, though most people call me Millie.”

“I know that name,” he said, and needed only a couple of seconds for it to come to him. “Emily Steen. I read your article about Miss Houghton the other day. I was just talking about it to someone yesterday.”

“Really? You read that whole thing and that still wasn’t enough to scare you off? What in the world still made you want to come here?”

Eric’s eyes narrowed and he held Stacy closer. “What are you here for, Miss Steen?”

The confidence seeped from her face, replaced first by slight bemusement, then a flush of embarrassment that reddened her like a sunburn. “Oh Lord. How did that come off? I hope you didn’t … I didn’t mean … Listen, I was just hoping to introduce myself and maybe have a conversation with you. Make sure you know what you need to know about your present circumstances. Is there a chance we could talk just you and I?”

Something about Emily Steen made Eric immediately distrustful of her, beyond the way she had shown up unannounced and spoke of him being “scared off.” It could have been that the previous night’s events had heightened his already elevated suspicions of just about anything unfamiliar to him. But he was sure that there was something else, and thought back to the article she’d written to determine what it could be.

“You can’t give me a better idea of what you’d like to talk about?” Eric said.

“It’s related to the house.”

“And us being here. Is that right, Miss Steen?”

Emily sighed. “I’m here for your well-being, Eric—sir—I promise. Feel free to call me Millie, by the way.”

“I’d rather keep it formal, if it’s all the same,” he said.

She nodded, bit the inside of her lip. It felt good to Eric that he seemed to have her off-balance. For the first time in a long time he wasn’t the one reacting and adjusting. He was out ahead of the conversation, steering it. He hadn’t had solid control of much, if anything, since leaving Maryland. Hell, even before then. Now, though, he wasn’t just letting this happen, letting this stranger show up, speak their piece, and leave.

“I’ll have to ask you to pardon my word choice, earlier,” Emily said, “and my impolite arrival, too. Least I should have done is brought a gift, now that I think on it. But, as for the nature of the conversation I’d like to have, I’d really rather not speak of it in front of your little girl here. Some of what I’ve got to say might not be fit for her ears.”

Stacy said, “Are you going to say bad words?”

Eric shushed her and smiled at her despite wanting to keep this woman at bay. Emily smiled too. “No, little missy, I won’t.”

Eric said, “Miss Steen, I don’t think you being here is appropriate.”

“Just hold on. It’s about Eunice and this house, and making sure you at least have all the information.”

“Mm. Does she know you’re here?”

“No. I’m one of the few people around here who doesn’t run almost everything I do by her first.”

“I thought not,” Eric said. “And I get the impression you’re here to tell me something about her that’s meant to get me to leave.” Before she could answer, what he was reaching for in his mind came to him. “You know, one interesting thing I remember from that article is that you always seemed opposed to some of Eunice’s more tolerant or accepting proposals.”

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