All the Dark Places(52)

“We have a great selection of kids’ books. Let me know if you need help,” I say, and walk away.

Sharon has taken a pair of reading glasses off a display stand near the front and has them perched on her nose, tag and all. “That’s better,” she says. “Oh, Molly. Would you go down to the basement?” She holds out a list. “Hayes said these came in, and he put them down there out of the way. He wanted me to sort them out, but . . .” She twists her leg back and forth. “My knee’s killing me.” She blows out a breath. “I can’t take those stairs today. You mind?”

I don’t want to go down there. She and Hayes know that. They think I’m claustrophobic. That’s what I’ve told them, and my excuse has worked since the basement is a small space with a low ceiling. Hayes always goes himself or has Sharon go down there. Now I’m stuck.

“Oh, come on,” Sharon says. “Leave the door open and the lights on, Molly. I’d do it myself, but my knee . . .”

I grab the list. “Fine.” At least I’ll put some space between me and the man.

“When you finish, why don’t you go ahead and go home?” she calls after me. “We both don’t need to be here.”

I make my way to the basement door. It’s old, like everything else in the building, and creaks as I open it. I flip the light on and shiver as cold musty air floats up and surrounds me.

You’ve got this, Molly. It’s only the bookstore.

I start down and hear the man talking with Sharon behind me in the distance. My footfalls echo on the wooden stairs, and I take them slowly, one at a time. There are no windows down here, just boxes stacked everywhere and a large table in the center of the room. It’s just the bookstore, I repeat in a whisper. I square my shoulders and make my way to the books piled on the table and set the list down. I get to work, concentrating on the task at hand, keeping my mind on the books.

I’m nearly through the pile when suddenly the lights go out and the basement plunges into darkness. Fear ripples through my chest, and I grab the edge of the table, holding on in a death grip. The basement door slams shut, and the floor above me creaks as someone walks overhead. Why would Sharon turn the lights out on me? Maybe we lost power. Maybe the snowfall.

My heart starts to hammer, and my palms perspire. I take a deep, wavering breath and try to feel my way slowly to where the staircase should be, sweat gathering under my arms, my breath catching in my throat. I never should have come down here.

Just when I’m starting to panic that I’ll never find the stairs, I bang my shin painfully against the first step.

“Sharon!” I climb on my hands and knees up the stairs, my pulse beating in my ears, fear coursing through my veins. I can’t breathe. I think I hear him behind me. I hear him scuttling in the darkness. A gust of cold air hits the back of my neck as I rush up the stairs.

I reach the top step, clamber to standing, and grab the doorknob, twist, but it holds fast. It’s locked. I choke on my tears and beat against the door with my fists. It’s like a flashback, a nightmare. I’m locked in, and there’s no escape.

Finally, the door flies open, and Hayes is standing silhouetted against the light behind him.

“Molly!”

I nearly jump into his arms, shaking.

“What the hell happened?” He brushes my damp hair off my face. “What were you doing down there? Sharon said you went home.” He walks me to the counter and hands me his water bottle.

Alice comes out of the office. “What happened?”

My pulse eases down, and I feel foolish. They’re both looking at me, concern all over their faces. “I don’t know. I got locked down there somehow.” I try to stifle my tears. “Panic attack, I guess.”

Hayes hugs me, and I take a deep breath against his sweater.

“After all you’ve been through,” he says, “no wonder you got scared.”

I peep over his shoulder and out the plate-glass front window. The man with the Frankenstein book is standing across the road under a streetlight looking up at the store.





CHAPTER 38


Molly


WHEN I WAKE UP, IT’S NEARLY ELEVEN A.M. HAYES DROVE ME HOME last night and sat up with me until midnight. We shared a bottle of pinot noir and talked about books and movies, our favorite topics during normal times, while Alice watched a documentary on the rain forest on TV. Finally, I felt sleepy, like a child who’d cried herself out, and they went home.

The afternoon is gray, with thick winter clouds, but no snow other than what’s already on the ground. I plug in the Christmas tree, and the white lights and colorful ornaments twinkle. I really should take it down, but I can’t. Not yet. It’ll seem like another way of putting Jay away, wrapping him up and moving on.

My doorbell chimes, and I rush to my laptop to check the camera. Kim. Shit. I haven’t seen her since before I discovered Josh and Laken at the spa. We’ve spoken a few times on the phone, but I made the conversations short.

We sit in the kitchen after hugs at the door. She seems okay. Josh must not have told her yet. Damn him.

“I wanted to make sure you were all right after what happened at the mountain house,” Kim says.

“I’m fine. I feel sorry for Alice, though. She was pretty shaken up. I never would’ve taken her with me if I’d thought anything like that would’ve happened.” I take a deep breath.