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Could it really be that easy?
A clock somewhere on the first floor chimed, a single peal.
One a.m.
Had the demons all decided to clock out and go for a drink somewhere?
I put one foot on the bottom step and hesitated. Part of me wanted to go upstairs, or at least to the landing, just to see what was going on, while the other kept telling me to get the hell out of there.
Also, just because the noise had stopped didn’t mean the awful stench had gone away. It was still everywhere, thick enough that I was surprised I couldn’t see it hanging in the air like some kind of horrible fog.
Discretion was the better part of valor, after all.
I turned away from the stairs and headed out the front door, then closed it behind me and let myself pause to pull in some deep, heavenly breaths of untainted night air. Once I thought I was sufficiently recovered, I headed down the porch steps and along the walkway to the garage where my mother and Tom were waiting.
They gazed at me expectantly as I approached. “It stopped,” I said simply.
“What happened?” my mother asked, astonishment clear in her face despite the uncertain light from the security fixture overhead.
“I don’t know,” I said. “The sounds were terrible. I tried some moon water, and that didn’t make any difference. Then I said I was going to bring in the big guns, and it all stopped immediately.”
“‘Big guns’?” Tom repeated.
“Just an idea I had,” I told him. “Mostly an empty threat. But it seemed to work…or maybe it was just a coincidence. Anyway, it’s quiet again. Unfortunately, that smell doesn’t seem like it’s going anywhere.”
“Which is why we’re still going to a hotel,” my mother said. “There’s no way in the world we can sleep in that. Tomorrow…well, tomorrow we’ll figure out what to do next.”
I wanted to argue with her, but I could see the exhaustion in both her and Tom’s faces, and knew they needed to go someplace where they could get some real rest. “Sure,” I said. “That sounds like a good plan. Just call me when you’re up.”
“We will.” She stepped closer and gave me a quick hug. “Thanks, hon. Going in there was very brave of you. But I think we’ll all do better after a decent night’s sleep.”
That sounded like good advice, so I nodded, asked her again to call me when they were awake, and headed off to my car. As I pulled out of the driveway, I couldn’t help yawning.
Yes, I needed to sleep. But first, I was going to take a shower and wash my hair…and hope that would get rid of the demon stink.
“We’re going back to L.A.,” my mother said.
I stared at her blankly. She and Tom had agreed to meet me for breakfast at The Flatiron, but suddenly the restaurant’s excellent hash browns tasted like cardboard. “You’re what?”
Tom put his hand over hers and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “We’re both tired, Selena,” he said. “This was supposed to be a mini vacation for us, but it’s turned out to be a nightmare from beginning to end.”
“Except for getting to see you, of course,” my mother put in quickly. “I’m thrilled to have had the chance to see where you live and get a real-life peek at your shop…and to meet Calvin. But Tom is right — we’re tired, and there doesn’t seem to be any way to get the house livable, so we’re going to go back home and regroup and decide what to do next.”
“There are other things I could try — ” I began, but she shook her head.
“Someone died in there, Selena. I can’t forget that — and I certainly don’t want to put anyone else in harm’s way.”
I closed my mouth without saying anything. My mother was right — Brant Thoreau had lost his life in that house. Even if I were able to track down the “Neil” from the recording, did I want to take the chance of him meeting a similar fate?
“Nothing firm has been decided yet,” Tom put in. “But there’s definitely no point in staying in that house. It clearly doesn’t want us there.”
Well, something didn’t, that much was clear. I doubted the problem lay with the house itself, though. Still, if Tom and my mother were determined to go back to Southern California, there wasn’t a lot I could do to change their minds.
“When are you leaving?” I asked, not bothering to keep the resignation out of my tone.
“Just as soon as we’re done here,” my mother replied. Her expression was apologetic.
“But…you were supposed to come over for dinner tonight.”
