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The world was full of dark-haired men who weren’t overly tall, so that particular detail probably wasn’t going to help the police track down the guy. “Well, I’m glad you’re all right,” I said. “Do you know how long you’re going to be in the hospital?”
“Oh, they’re going to release me later today,” Father Neil replied. “I have a mild concussion and a couple of cracked ribs, but it’s not enough to keep me here. My car is totaled, though, so someone from the Phoenix diocese is driving over here to pick me up and take me back where I can rent a car.”
“I’m so sorry about all this — ”I began, but he cut me off before I could go any further.
“What happened certainly isn’t your fault, Selena,” he said. “And I came down here to Globe of my own free will. I’m just sorry I couldn’t be of more help to you.”
Honestly, I didn’t know how much help he could have been even if he’d made it to our midnight meeting. Once again, that feeling of barking up the wrong tree was back, and I thought that having a priest on this case maybe wasn’t the best plan of action anyway.
I murmured something noncommittal, and after making sure Father Neil’s friend from the diocese would be there to take him from the hospital back to the hotel so he could get his things, I hung up and looked at the time.
Nine twenty-five.
Taking advantage of the five minutes I had left before Hazel showed up, I went into the bathroom to perform a quick mirror check and make sure I wasn’t betraying any obvious signs of my tumble of the night before. Luckily, I’d managed to avoid banging up my face, and I was wearing a lightweight yoga hoodie and jeans, which hid the bruises that had started to bloom along my legs and arms. Maybe not the best outfit for August in Arizona, but it was better than trying to explain why I looked like I’d taken up kickboxing as a hobby.
I’d just finished pulling my hair back into a scrunchie — after checking to make sure I didn’t have any betraying bruises or scrapes on my neck — when someone knocked at the door. I hurried out of the bathroom to answer the knock, and saw Hazel standing just outside, a red plastic bucket in one hand.
“I thought you could use these,” she said, holding up the bucket so I could peek inside. Stowed within were a metal scraper and a spray bottle of water. “I had them lying around from when I first moved into my house here and I had to scrape off all this horrible wallpaper from the 1970s.”
“Oh, that’s perfect,” I told her. “The wallpaper at the Bigelow mansion felt as though it was going to lift pretty easily, but this will definitely help if it decides to be stubborn.”
She looked pleased, but the faint smile she was wearing slid away soon enough. “You’re really sure you want to do this? Maybe it would be better to wait until Chuck gets back from Willcox.”
I honestly didn’t know why I was in such a hurry, but what I did know was that if my instincts were telling me to do something, then I needed to get it done. My mother had seemed cooperative enough, and yet I had a feeling the reluctance I’d heard in her voice partly stemmed from the realization that she and Tom had already made up their minds about the house, and she thought I was going to a lot of work for nothing.
Another reason for haste was Calvin. He was smart enough not to outright forbid me to do something, but I doubted he’d be too happy once he found out I’d gone back to the Bigelow house after taking a fall that could have been fatal. We both knew all too well that those stairs had proved deadly just a few nights earlier. Better to do this while he was safely busy at work.
“No, I don’t think we need to wait for Chuck,” I said quickly. “Believe me, I’m ready to cut and run at the first sign of trouble. This honestly shouldn’t take too long.”
“Famous last words,” Hazel returned, but since her mouth quirked a little as she spoke, I got the feeling she was kidding…sort of.
The two of us went downstairs and out to the spot where my car was parked behind the building. After Hazel had stowed her bucket of supplies in the back seat, I pulled out and headed off toward the east edge of town and the Bigelow mansion.
We’d been driving for a couple of minutes when Hazel remarked, “What’s with the hoodie? It’s supposed to be in the low nineties today.”
I thought furiously. “Oh,” I said, “my mom left the A/C in the house cranked way up, and I still haven’t figured out how to reset the thermostat. You can hang out on the porch if it gets too cold.”
Hazel lifted an eyebrow at my explanation but didn’t say anything else. And honestly, it wasn’t a total lie. The air conditioning had been left on at a much lower temp than was strictly necessary, and although I’d eyeballed the thermostat, I hadn’t fiddled with it. The previous owners had installed ducting and dual high-efficiency cooling units, and the thermostat that had gone along with the system was one of those overly complicated ones with different settings for times of day and days of the week. Thank the Goddess that the one in my own apartment was simple and only asked that you push a button to adjust it upward or downward as required.
The day was almost as bright as the previous one, although a few ominous, mushroom-shaped clouds on the far horizon indicated that it didn’t intend to stay clear. No biggie; I planned to be safely back at the store before any monsoon weather erupted.
I parked in nearly the same place I had the day before, right next to the spot where the flagstone front path touched the edge of the gravel driveway. Hazel and I got out, and she pushed the seat up so she could retrieve her bucket from the back. Thus armed, we headed for the front porch.
Everything looked quiet. I couldn’t hear any sounds coming from within, which had to be a good sign. True, we were here at an off hour, at a time of day when the demons hadn’t previously made their presence known. I hoped that meant I’d be able to work without getting interrupted, but — as I’d assured Hazel — I was ready to bolt at a moment’s notice. The night before, I’d just barely managed to escape serious injury. I definitely wasn’t going to press my luck today.
Since I’d held on to the key, I only needed to extract it from an inner pocket of my purse and unlock the door. It swung inward, and Hazel wrinkled her nose.
“What is that smell?”
“Demon mischief, I guess,” I said. “It was a lot stronger the other night.”
“Ugh.”
“You can keep the door open and wait here,” I suggested, but she shook her head.
“No, it’s probably better if we stick together. Besides, I spend half my days inhaling linseed oil and turpentine. I can handle it.”
The set of her jaw told me she had no intention of staying meekly by the door while I went further into the house and risked attack by demons. Her loyalty cheered me, so I didn’t bother to protest, only headed toward the stairwell, then flicked on the miniature chandelier that hung above the landing.
