LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

but affordable.

      She never did learn the identity of the landlord. As the management firm for the owner, Hode Development was an intermediary, the entity she’d pay on the first of each month. Was there something about the house she didn’t know, or had the owner simply decided a reduced rent was better than no rent?

      She’d have to ask Ivy. Her friend was the one who’d initially told her the property was vacant. She also needed to share what had happened last night on her way home from the Fiend Festival.

      Maya got her chance shortly after noon when Ivy showed as promised, ready to tackle boxes. They started with those in the dining room. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, tall glasses of iced tea within easy reach, they unpacked books, photos, and a variety of knickknacks.

      “I like these.” Ivy unwrapped two plum pillar candles in glass jars. The middle of each was wrapped with an inch of twine overlaid by a thin strand of pearls tipped in gold.

      Maya smiled. “Alana made those for me as a housewarming gift. I thought they’d look great in the parlor.”

      “They’re beautiful.” Ivy set the candles aside with care. “Your sister is so talented with arts and crafts. I bet she and Brook would get along great.”

      “Maybe.” Maya tried to imagine her quiet older sister passing an afternoon with the free-spirited librarian. “Except I can’t see Alana being interested in essential oils or planet alignments.”

      “True, but Brook loves all that natural DIY stuff. If she sees these candles, she’ll want to make her own.”

      Standing, Maya pressed her hands to the small of her back.

      “Are you okay?” Ivy immediately sent her a worried look. Her friend knew about her accident and had even driven out to visit several times while Maya was in the hospital.

      “Fine, but let’s take a break. There’s something I need to tell you.”

      Ivy’s brows veed into her hair. “Oh? Sounds ominous.” Her tone was light, but a thread of concern colored her eyes.

      “I met Leland Hode after the Fiend Festival last night.”

      Ivy drew back. “Not possible.”

      “Not under the best of circumstances.” Maya grabbed her half-empty glass from the floor. “Let’s go into the kitchen. I could use more tea.”

      Once situated at the table in the breakfast area, Maya relayed what happened on her walk home.

      Ivy’s eyes grew rounder with each detail. “Wow,” she said once Maya had finished. “Maybe Leland has a mistress. What else would he be doing in an alley?”

      Maya hadn’t considered that. “I’m worried about him. He passed out before the ambulance got there. And you didn’t see the creature. It was huge.”

      “Probably a leftover from the festival.”

      “That’s what Detective Gregg thought.” Maya still wasn’t certain. “Either that, or someone taking advantage of the festival as cover.”

      “You don’t sound convinced.”

      How could she explain without sounding like an idiot? “It’s just that…” Dropping her gaze, she cupped her glass between her hands and conjured a mental image of the previous night. The nest of shadows in the alley, Leland slumped against the building like a discarded rag doll, the dark form beside him swelling in size. “It seemed too big to be human.”

      Ivy blew out a breath. “What are you saying? That you saw the Fiend?” A look of incredulity crossed her face. “We’re not going to see you on one of those Bigfoot reality shows, are we?”

      Maya laughed. “I’m not that crazy.” She swiped her thumb over the glass, collecting condensation. “But something attacked Leland.”

      “You mean someone.” Ivy leaned forward and rested her forearms on the table, her expression a blend of common sense and concern. “Leland has a lot of enemies, Maya. Kovack, DeLuca, and who knows how many people connected to Pin Oaks.”

      Detective Gregg’s mention of Len Kovack abruptly clicked in Maya’s head. So, the painting contractor was one of her neighbors. Toss in the DeLuca connection through Imelda, and her home was nested in a hotbed of contention.

      “Leland can afford the best care.” Ivy’s voice brought Maya back to the present. “I’m more worried about you. Whoever was in the alley…did they get a good look at you?”

      “Oh.” Maya flinched, sensing where Ivy was headed. “I…I don’t know. But why should that matter? I couldn’t ID the person. They were in a costume, if I’m to believe you and Detective Gregg.” The thought of someone wanting to silence her made her uneasy, but the alternative was worse—that the thing she’d seen truly was a nightmarish creature of lore. For her own sanity, she needed to learn more about the Fiend of Hode’s Hill. Not just rumors and myth, or even the oft-repeated urban legend, but actual accounts. Something had attacked Charlotte Hode and several others at the turn of the century. There had to be newspaper reports. She’d research the tale through the library archives rather than let herself be influenced by local retellings.

      “I’m probably worrying about nothing.” She wanted to change the topic. “At this point, my only concern is for Mr. Hode.”

      “Well, if the guy was as big as you say, it probably wasn’t Kovack or DeLuca.” Frowning in concentration, Ivy sat back in her chair. “Dante has the money to hire whoever he wants, but I don’t think he’d go to that extreme. He can be a loose cannon, but his grandmother would never condone violence, and he loves her too much to go against her wishes.”

      “You didn’t tell me his aunt is my next-door neighbor.”

      Ivy blinked. “You mean Imelda Bonnifer? They don’t talk.”

      Interesting. “Why is that?”

      “I’m not sure, really. The rumor is she didn’t get along with her mother or Dante’s dad—Salvador—so she doesn’t have a connection to Dante.”

      Maya scrambled to follow the logic. “What happened to Dante’s mom?”

      “She died a couple months after he was born from some kind of bone disease. His grandmother basically raised him. That’s why they’re so close.”

      No wonder he was upset about her being displaced from Pin Oaks. “What about his dad?”

      Ivy tore the top off a packet of artificial sweetener. “He was a scientist. Dante used to say he had government connections, but I think he was putting us on. His dad worked at Wickham and would disappear for weeks at a time.”

      “What’s Wickham?”

      Ivy swirled the sweetener into her tea. “Head east, about twenty miles out of town, and you’ll come across a plain red brick building on private ground.”

      “Wickham?”

      “More or less. The place never had a name. People in town started calling it Wickham because it’s located off Wickham Road, a rural route. Back in the ’70s it was a veterinary practice, but that went out of business, and the place sat vacant until the early ’90s. When we were kids, we thought it was a top-secret government lab—mostly because of what Dante told us. We used to make up stories about monsters and UFOs.”

      “Wouldn’t Dante have known what his father did?” Maya found it hard to overlook Ivy’s use of past tense when referring to the facility.

      “Not really. His dad didn’t talk about his job, but it appeared to pay very well.” She paused, briefly. “One day, Dante’s grandmother showed up at school with two cops, and we knew something terrible had happened. We found out later his dad had been involved in an accident at Wickham and was killed. The details have always been sketchy, but Sonia and Dante received a large cash settlement. At least, that was the rumor. I think Dante was fifteen.

Скачать книгу