The Haunted

“Yes, it is.” She looked at Megan. “I’m going to my office. If you’d like to stay with Julie and see if you can find anything in Mrs. Fischer’s store, you can.”

Megan smiled, giving her mother a quick hug. She was one of the good ones. “Okay. Thanks, Mom.”

All trace of embarrassment gone, Julie led the way into the thrift shop, and the two of them began searching through the shirts and blouses hanging from a series of racks on the right side of the store.

They looked through everything. Julie picked out an impressively hip outfit that one of Jardine’s richer high schoolers must have recently donated, and even discovered a couple of pretty good CDs in the bargain bin. Megan found a cool top that fit her perfectly, and she told her friend to wait while she rushed over to her mom’s office to get some money.

Julie had always been the most casual member of her trio of BFFs, but Megan had a newfound respect for the girl, and after this morning felt much closer to her. They emerged from the thrift shop to see that the north end of Old Main was being blocked off and vendors were starting to set up for the farmer’s market. Julie’s mom said she was going to go over and check it out.

“I need to go to the library,” Megan told Julie. “Want to come with me?”

Julie looked at her mother, who nodded her approval.

The two girls went to the library, where Megan got her reading program form signed by one of the librarians and received her prize: a “Night at the Movies” pass, which included free entry to the theater, a free small popcorn and a free small drink. “Wow,” Julie said. “I didn’t know they gave out such good prizes. I’m going to do the reading program next year.”

The librarian smiled. “Tell your friends.”

They went on one of the library’s computers, sharing it, and checked out the Facebook pages of some of their frenemies until Julie’s mom found them and told Julie it was time to go.

Megan walked out with them to the parking lot, where Julie’s mom had parked her car. “I had fun,” she said. “We should do this more often.”

Julie smiled. “Yeah.”

They said good-bye, and Megan walked back to her mom’s office. She expected to see a client or two, or find her mother on the phone, but her mom was alone and writing something in longhand on a yellow pad of paper. Megan went to the bathroom, and at the same time checked the cuts on her legs. Once again, there was a vague stirring in the back of her mind, a sense that she had inflicted those wounds upon herself, though she still could not remember doing so and had no idea why she would.

They looked ugly, she thought, and that was good. It made her look ugly. Now maybe whatever had been exhorting her to take off her pants would not want her to do it any longer. In fact, maybe if she cut herself some more, it would provide her with additional insurance and keep that thing away from her.

Was that the reason she had done it in the first place, if she had done it in the first place?

No.

Something told her that if she had cut herself, she had done it because she wanted to, because she liked it.

Liked it in that way.

Horrified, embarrassed, ashamed, Megan looked up from her bare legs and focused her eyes on the bathroom wall. That wasn’t possible, was it? People didn’t really do things like that for those reasons, did they? She didn’t see how, but something about it still rang true, and she was even more afraid of the house than she had been before. She did not want to go back, and wondered whether she could camp out here in her mom’s office, convince her parents to let her have a sleepover here with her friends, and then perhaps stretch that out to a week or so.

She was being ridiculous. Nothing like that would ever happen. She had to face the fact that she had to live in the house.

But maybe …

Reaching over, she started opening the drawers in the sink cabinet. Most of them were empty, but in one she found an old box of Band-Aids, a tube of Neosporin and a small pair of scissors. She took all of them out and placed them on the edge of the sink. The scissors, she saw upon further inspection, might be short and thin, but they were sharp, and the blades came to points. She picked them up, then looked down at her thighs. Her legs were ugly now, but she could make them even uglier, so that nothing would want her to pull her pants down.

She gathered her courage. Grimacing, she pressed the blade against her skin.

Pushed it in.

And, biting on her hand to keep from screaming, quickly pulled it through the flesh toward her hip.

Twenty

The man with the knife was named John Lynch.

And he had been released from jail two days ago.

Julian learned about it only because he called the police station and asked to talk to Officer Rodriguez in order to find out the status of the case. Claire was at work, Megan was with her, and James was at his friend Robbie’s. For the first time in three days, Julian had the house completely to himself, and, taking advantage of this temporary freedom, he decided to check on his would-be attacker and see what was happening. He was shocked to discover that, contrary to what he’d been told, the man was neither in jail nor in a psych ward but had made bail and had been released on his own recognizance.

Rodriguez was on patrol and not available, but the case was no longer his anyway and had been assigned to a Detective Pena, who was the one to take Julian’s call. Pena was understanding and apologetic, but Julian was still angry that Lynch had been released, and he started lecturing the detective, describing in detail how he’d seen the man with the knife staring in at him while he was eating lunch. All of this was no doubt in the report, but Pena listened patiently before explaining that because there had been no specific verbal threats made and no overt attempts to attack, Lynch had been automatically eligible for bail.

“He was holding a knife!”

“I understand that, Mr. Perry. And he will have a trial, and even if there is a plea deal, I can guarantee you that he will serve time. But until then, he is out on bail. If you see him again, however, if he makes any attempt to contact you, let us know immediately. In that case, we may be able to do something.”

“So if he terrorizes my wife or stabs my children, then you’ll be able to put him away. That’s good to know.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Perry—”

Julian hung up on him.

Immediately, he went outside and walked around the house, checking behind bushes, in the garage, even in the alley to make sure that that lunatic wasn’t lurking about. He’d asked the detective whether the police had any idea why Lynch had come to his house with a knife, but Pena said that the man had offered no explanation, had seemed confused, and had claimed that he meant no harm.

The guy was clearly crazy. What if he did return and try to attack Claire? Or Megan? Or James?

Julian should have told Claire everything that day, as soon as she came home. What the hell was wrong with him? Now it was too late to tell her about it. He’d made a huge mistake in not coming clean right away, and there was no way he could possibly explain what had happened and why he’d kept it a secret. Probably the best thing to do at this point was maintain his silence. He seldom went anywhere, was almost always home when Claire and the kids were there. He could keep an open eye out, watch for any sign of Lynch, and if the man showed up, he’d call the police and then tell Claire, maybe even make it seem like it was the first time it had happened.