The Real Werewives of Vampire County
Jon knocked. “Baby, let me in.”
“Not until you tell me what’s going on. You’re hiding something. What is it?”
He audibly sighed. “You’re going to have to ask them. I can’t say.”
“I left my job, my home, to come here. You should be able to tell me anything.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Fine,” I said, giving the door my best mean eyes. “You can sleep in the guest room.” Frustrated, I flopped onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling.
Six hours later, I gave up. There was absolutely no chance I was going to fall asleep. Feeling groggy, confused, foggy headed, and slightly depressed, I jumped into the shower, hoping some scalding hot water would wake me up a little. It helped. Figuring a half of pot of coffee would help even more, I staggered down to turn on the coffeemaker.
When I rounded the corner, lumbering into the kitchen, I stopped dead in my tracks.
There was a wire dog cable lying on the kitchen floor.
Right where Michelle had died.
Was this some kind of warning? A joke?
Telling myself it was nothing, absolutely nothing, a weird, terrible coincidence, I dashed outside, down to Samantha’s house, and up her front porch steps. She answered my knock dressed in yet another adorable vintage dress, her hair and makeup picture-perfect. Like always. “Good morning, Christine. What a surprise.” She looked me up and down. I knew I wasn’t looking my best, but who would in my shoes?
“Good morning,” I snapped, trying to peer around her. I didn’t hear any barking. Surely there’d be barking from those huge dogs.
What the hell was going on?
“I need to talk,” I said.
“Sure.” She escorted me into the kitchen.
No sign of dogs.
She invited me to sit at her breakfast bar and poured a cup of coffee.
No sign of dogs. Or kids, for that matter. The kids, I might guess were still sleeping. But the dogs … ?
She asked, “What do you want to talk about?”
“What I saw last night, for starters. And then what I found this morning.”
Her lip twitched, but otherwise she remained as cool and collected as usual. “What did you see last night?”
“You. Outside. At roughly midnight. Playing with some … dogs?”
“That couldn’t have been me. I was sleeping. And I don’t have any dogs. After I came home from the party, I took a Xanax and had some wine… .” She slumped onto the stool next to me. “Okay, I’ll admit, I don’t remember anything about last night. All I recall is going to bed and waking up this morning.” Staring down at the counter, Samantha clasped her hands in her lap. “My feet were a little muddy.”
“Did you black out?”
Samantha nodded. “I guess so, if you’re sure it was me you saw.”
I wasn’t one hundred percent certain. “Are you taking more than Xanax? And Valium?”
“Sometimes.”
“Do you have a drug problem?”
She shot to her feet, hurried to the sink, and began scrubbing an empty, presumably dirty, pot.
I didn’t like what I was seeing. Not one bit. Maybe Samantha had seemed a little too perfect at first. And maybe I hadn’t trusted her because of that. But seeing her like this, the perfect, flawless veneer cracking wide open, I wanted to help her. If she’d let me. “Do you need help?”
“No, I’m fine.” Her lips curled up. As if a wilted smile would convince me she was telling the truth.
“Samantha—”
“I don’t want to be rude, but I have a lot to do before the twins get up. Was there something else you needed to talk about? You mentioned something about this morning.”
“Yes. You’ll never guess what I found this morning, lying on my kitchen floor. Right where Michelle died.”
“No clue.”
“A dog cable.” Weighing Samantha’s nonresponse, I added, “Do you think it’s a coincidence?”
“I don’t know. Did you ask Jonathan about it?”
“Not yet.”
“Why not?”
“I didn’t have a chance.” I wasn’t going to tell her we slept in separate rooms.
“I don’t think it’s anything to—” A crash upstairs cut Samantha off. She gave me another semi-wilted smile. “The monsters have risen.”
Taking the hint, I stood. “I’ll head home.” I reluctantly left.
CHAPTER 10
I scuttled back home and cautiously entered the house, listening for sounds of a would-be killer. Silence. Feeling slightly tense, I went into the kitchen. The cable was gone. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Or maybe neither.
I headed upstairs.
Josh was gone—hopefully at school.
The bed in the guest room was made. I guessed Jon had gone to work. No good-bye. As usual. After checking every room in the house for an unwanted visitor, I showered, dressed, then headed down to the girl-cave. Flipped on the lights. As I headed toward my drawing desk, there was a loud buzz and a zap and then everything went black.
Standing in the middle of the room, I blinked, frozen in place, instantly terrified. Was this a trap? Or merely a short circuit? My heart thumped against my breastbone. My ears strained, listening. Nothing. Just silence.
One second passed. Another. Nobody grabbed me. Nobody clobbered me over the head.
A short circuit. That was all it was.
Slowly, gradually, I started breathing again. My heart rate settled into a more normal pace. Already becoming disorientated in the blackness—I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face, literally—I turned around, extended my arms, and took one, two, three baby steps. I hoped I was heading in the right direction! I took a few more, expecting to feel the wall enclosing the side of the staircase any time now … any time …
Crack.
Crash.
Instinctively I dove forward, away from the earsplitting noise. Something had fallen. Something huge. Finally, my hands smacked into a wall. I flattened my body against it and caught my breath again.
Dust choked me.
I was feeling closed in, suffocated, trapped. Using the wall to support me, I sidestepped five, ten paces. Hit another wall. I groped. It was the cubbie wall. Damn, I’d gone the wrong way! I was cowering in the far back corner of the room. Which meant the thing that crashed was probably blocking the exit. This was not going to be fun.
I reversed directions, walking carefully until I couldn’t go any farther. Something big and wooden was lying in a heap on the floor, directly in front of the staircase. Fortunately I discovered—after feeling my way around like a blind woman—I could climb over it. When I stepped foot on the staircase, I gave a little shout of victory.