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“Right,” Kandace muttered, her hand going to the back of her shorn hair. “Vanity will not be tolerated. Ashy skin all around.”
The squeak of bedsprings suggested that both girls had turned over to sleep. She sat there in the dark, leaning toward the wall cautiously, a chill sweeping through her. Whispers. Coming from within the walls. One, then another. No. Just the wind outside, she told herself, or some strange acoustics in this old house that causes voices to carry from one floor to the next. Yes, it had to be one of those two things. Even so, as Kandace’s eyes adjusted to the dark and the unfamiliar features of the room shifted into focus, that chill remained.CHAPTER SEVENA loud knock echoed from below and Scarlett frowned, standing upright from where she’d been scraping wallpaper off the lower portion of a wall in a hallway in the west wing and wiping her hands down her thighs. She used her forearm to smooth the sweaty pieces of hair that had fallen loose from her ponytail away from her face and headed toward the front door.
When she pulled it open, Deputy West was standing there, holding a box in his hands. Her brow lowered and she eyed him warily. “Deputy West. Hi. What brings you out here?”
“I appreciated your offer to come and go as I please,” he said, a note of dry humor in his voice. “But I thought it better that I knock and, you know, give some fair warning that you have company.”
She squinted one eye at him. Huh. So the guy wasn’t the humorless stick in the mud she’d originally thought him to be. “I appreciate that.” She used her arm to indicate her sweaty, messy hair, and her face she was pretty dang sure had dirt smudged on it, baggy ripped jeans and old, stained T-shirt. “Gave me just enough time to put on my finest.”
He grinned and she smiled back, and for a moment, time stilled. Scarlett’s heart kicked up but then so did her unease. No, she cautioned herself. Don’t even go there.
The deputy seemed to read her discomfort because he cleared his throat and looked away, holding something up. “Uh, I brought something by. I was going to install it, with your permission of course.”
She looked at the box he was holding, reading the print. “A security front door lock set?” She met his eyes, confusion wrinkling her brow. “Why?”
He looked to the side, squinting into the trees for a moment and then back at her. “Listen, this place has been empty for a long time. Kids use it for any number of things. Entertainment. A crash pad. I’ve made it a habit to drive by and make sure nothing dangerous or illegal was happening, which is why I was here the other day. If I didn’t know someone had moved in, others won’t either. I’ll install it.”
Scarlett leaned a hip on the doorframe, crossing her arms. “Seems like a pretty excessive welcome to the neighborhood gift. Is this a service Farrow provides all its new residents?”
“No, but it’s not only for you. It’ll save me the work of having to make a report when some stoned kid tries to enter without knocking and scares you and your little girl.”
Scarlett chewed at her lip, glancing at the box again. “All right. But I insist on paying for the lock set. It looks expensive.”
“No need. My friend’s dad owns the hardware store. He’s the one who picked it out. He has better taste than I do. Anyway, friend discount. I practically got it for free.” Scarlett eyed the beautiful aged brass set on the photo. It was simple, yet elegant, and perfect for the arched wooden door she planned to have sanded down and re-stained. Honestly, if she’d gone shopping for one herself, she’d likely have chosen that exact one.
“All right. Well, thank you. I accept. But you’ll have to let me at least repay you with a glass of lemonade and some cookies.”
For a moment it appeared he was going to turn her down. His mouth opened, but then he pressed his lips together and nodded once. “Sounds nice. Thanks.”
There was an awkward pause. “Okay then,” Scarlett said, backing away. “I’ll leave you to it. Oh! Do you need any tools? I have all the basics . . .”
“No. I brought what I need. I’m all set.”
“Okay, great. I’m going to . . . uh”—she hitched her thumb over her shoulder—“get back to work, but just holler when you’re done.”
“Will do.”
Scarlett shot him one last smile and then headed back to the hallway where she’d been working. She stepped into the bathroom nearby and cringed at her reflection in the mirror. God, it was worse than I thought. Not only did she have dirt smears on her face, but there was white dust from the dried wallpaper paste in her hair and eyelashes, and a tiny piece of wallpaper stuck to her cheekbone. She looked absurd. She was surprised he’d been able to speak seriously with her at all.
