“I can give you a hand clearing up if you want.”
“No, please. I think it’ll just be best if you leave.”
“What about what you said in the call?”
“The call?” said Mary, looking a little confused and with her back still pressed against the door. “Oh yes, the call. Well, not now. Please, just come back tomorrow.”
“Are you sure you don’t need any help?”
“No, I’m fine. Just let me deal with this mess and come back tomorrow.”
After making it clear that she would return the next day, Amanda made to leave. All the while her unwanted guest remained in the kitchen, Mary continued her guard of her bathroom. It was only when she heard Amanda reach the front door that she relaxed. She then cautiously made her way to the end of the hall to ensure that the woman was indeed leaving the house and not taking the opportunity to snoop around.
***
While nervously tapping her fingers on the top of the steering wheel, Amanda exhaled sharply through her teeth in frustration. While she knew that Mary was hiding something from her, she was also convinced that the woman would just turn her away if she were to return to the house and attempt to ask any questions. It also irked her that she just did not know what it was that Mary was hiding from her. The only thing she was fairly certain of was that it had not been a group of children who had caused the commotion at the back of the O’Hare residence. But if it were not a group of children, then who had broken the window or did whatever it was that caused the noise?
What the hell could she be hiding in that bathroom? thought Amanda.
Once again, the idea flared up in the back of her mind that perhaps, all this time, Mary was somehow involved with the man who had killed Brenden. This could, of course, explain why she had been so reluctant to let her in the first time she called. Perhaps this elusive vampire had some sort of hold over Mary, that he was somehow keeping her a hostage in her own home, and that it was only when she was free enough to do so that she had called Amanda to try and get some help. This would all explain why she was so reluctant to talk, and why she had claimed she was afraid on the phone.
But of course, that made no sense. If she were in need of help, why once Amanda was there would Mary have continued to attempt to keep the presence of the man a secret? Why would Mary not have just asked Amanda to take her away when they were both standing at the front door? When Mary heard the noise from the back of the house, she ran straight towards it, not away.
As this thread of thought seemed to be leading her nowhere, Amanda gave it up and put her hand on the ignition key. Despite her intention to just go back to her hotel, the nagging part of her that usually told her to just get on with whatever task was at hand held her back from starting the car; instead, she pulled the key from the cylinder and got back out onto the street. She returned to the end of Mary’s darkened driveway and pulled out her phone to call the deputy. Though she was sure she was just being foolish, she wanted to inform someone of where she was.
“You have reached deputy Martin Chester’s office,” came the familiar voice after the ringing tone had sounded several times. “I’m not here at the moment. Please leave a message.”
“It’s Amanda,” she said, after hearing the bleep of the answering machine. “I’m at Mary O’Hare’s house. Seems like someone broke her back window just now. Something’s not quite right here. Call me back when you can.”
Except for the dim light emanating from Mary’s kitchen, the house before Amanda seemed dead and still; nothing but a mix of dark greys below the orange sky glow of town’s light pollution. Amanda closed her eyes and focused on what she could hear around her: the rustle of her jacket, the sound of a bird in the distance, the low hum of a car on a nearby road. Although she knew that Mary was only a hundred or so feet from where she was standing and that some of the other homes around her where surely occupied, her senses suggested that the street around her was completely empty; that for all intents and purposes, she should feel quite alone. However, something in the pit of her stomach suggested that all was not quite how it seemed.
Amanda turned on the LED light on her phone once more and made for the field that sided on to Mary’s property. With a little difficulty – and with her attention focused on the ground to determine if she could find any evidence of footprints - Amanda traversed the boggy ground of the field’s edge to reach the clearly uncared for wooden fence panels of Mary’s back garden. Before her, she could see the curving form of two panels that had collapsed into the garden, who knew how long ago. After turning off the phone’s torch and returning the device to her pocket, Amanda slowly shuffled her way up to the fence, careful to make as little noise as possible and to avoid tripping herself up on some object hidden by the dark.
Gently,
