She widened her eyes, gaped open her mouth in that annoying way teenagers did to express mock wonder. Apparently she was feeling better. “Wow. Ever heard of Google?”
Avery March seemed to recover herself, took a breath, and wiped at her eyes.
“That’s right,” she said. “My sister disappeared and was never found.”
“Oh my God,” said Samantha. “That’s . . . horrible. I’m so sorry.”
“Several locals were questioned—the man who was caretaker here at the time,” said March, glancing at Matthew. “For a while, suspicion fell on a boy from town, Mason Brandt. My stepfather, Brad, was abusive and violent, so they looked at him. Finally, allegedly, there was an out-of-town stranger that Amelia was seeing, never identified.”
They were all staring at March. “The case went cold,” she finished. “It remains unsolved.”
Samantha shook her head, pinned Matthew with an annoyed frown. “When were you going to tell me about this?”
“Um. Never,” said Matthew. “I was hoping to fix this place up and be long gone before it ever came up.”
“Okay. Wow. You didn’t think it was important? That I needed to know this?”
“Ancient history,” he said, making his voice flat.
Samantha’s eyes widened. “Not for our Realtor, who lost a sister.”
She directed an open palm toward March. “I’m so sorry for your loss. That must have been so painful.”
“I should have told you,” said March to Samantha. “I’m sorry.”
“So what do you want?” asked Matthew. “What are you doing here?”
March shifted uncomfortably. “The rest of the world gave up on my sister. But I haven’t. I just wanted a chance to look around the house and the grounds. I begged your grandfather Justice Merle for access, but he denied me, all this time.”
Matthew felt a lash of anger.
“Because the house, my family—we had nothing to do with your sister’s disappearance. The case didn’t exactly go cold, right? The police, in the end, declared her a runaway.”
“She was last seen walking into the woods on this land,” March said.
“Lots of kids hung out back in the woods,” Matthew said vaguely. He was still hoping Havenwood wouldn’t come up. She must know about it. Everyone who’d grown up here went there at some point, or had at least heard about it, didn’t they?
“Two of the men questioned—the caretaker, and your friend Mason Brandt—were connected to this place,” March went on.
Samantha and Jewel were both watching her, nodding. Jewel looked like she was about to say something, but Samantha held up a finger.
“Look,” said March into the awkward silence that swelled between the four of them. “When I’m satisfied that there’s nothing here that might help me understand what happened to my sister, I’ll help you sell it. I promise.”
“And what if you do find something?” asked Samantha.
March shook her head, looked down at her hands, folded in her lap. “I don’t have an answer for that right now.”
The old man wouldn’t have liked this. He was not a big fan of strangers, and obviously he’d kept her away all this time. If she had any real reason for suspecting Amelia’s disappearance had something to do with his family, this house, this land, she’d have been able to bring it to the police.
“You could have been honest with us,” said Matthew, peevish.
March gave him a dark look. “Historically, the Merle family has not been cooperative. Anyway, I am being honest. I will help you sell this place, and no one else local will.”
He was about to tell her to go fuck herself. He’d find someone to sell Merle House, or he’d sell it himself. It wasn’t rocket science, right? He’d just get online and figure it out.
“Of course you can have access,” said Samantha.
“Sam,” he started. But she held up a palm.
“If the answers are here, you deserve to have them, Avery.”
March gave a little bow, put her hands together. “Thank you.”
Matthew felt the weight of fatigue press down on his shoulders. Why were things always spinning out of his control? The harder he tried to hold on, the less effective he was.
“I did see her,” said Jewel.
A wave of sadness passed across March’s face.
“No,” said Matthew firmly. “You knew about her. You gave yourself a nightmare, and you were sleepwalking.”
“That’s not what happened,” said Jewel, getting angry, wobbly like when she was little—flushed, eyes tearing. “I wasn’t sleeping.”
“I know that you believe it, kiddo,” said Samantha, putting a hand on their daughter’s leg. “But it’s just not possible. Our minds, in times of stress, they can play tricks on us.”
Avery March caught Matthew’s eyes. In her gaze, he saw knowledge, accusation, fear. Matthew looked away quickly, back to Jewel and Samantha.
“There are no ghosts here,” said Samantha into the heavy silence. “Or—anywhere.”
Merle House seemed to wait a comic beat.
They all looked up, startled, as the sound of something being dragged across the floor rang out loud and long.
3.
Ian’s assistant, Joshua, showed up around eleven, a full hour late. Millennials.
“Yeah,” Josh said, reading Ian’s look, but not even having the decency to look flustered. “Sorry, man. I’m just so busy. My schoolwork load is epic. I just fell asleep at my desk, studying.”
Floppy-haired, bearded, Josh was obviously stoned, eyes rimmed red, speech slow. Liz would have fired him on the spot. Ian was less exacting. Josh was just a warm body, someone to keep him company and make sure he didn’t fall asleep. Ian was less exacting about everything than Liz had been—the clients he took on, billing, paying the bills. The business, it must be said, was not doing well. Liz had a way of keeping everything going—moving this to pay that, delaying payment on that until cash flowed through from this. But Liz was gone. Her illness had all but cleaned them out. He was running on fumes in every sense.
Once upon a time, they’d been flush. Before the recession, they couldn’t even take on all the people who wanted their services, which ranged from the very basic clutter clearing to the feng shui consulting that had been Liz’s
