Summer Shadows (24 page)

32

A
fter Mrs. Jurta left, Julia brought the kids in for lunch, then settled them upstairs for some quiet time while she finished
Picturesque in Death.
The detective delivered his speech, the culprit was caught, the innocent were vindicated, and the main guy and the main girl came to an understanding.

Julia closed the book with dissatisfaction.

Although the ending of the book coincided with reality and the husband went to jail, swearing vengeance, she couldn’t help but feel that there was more to the case than that. She also decided that had she been on the police force at the time, she would be highly insulted at the way they were portrayed in the book.

Putting the book and the mystery aside, she checked her phone and found a voicemail from Sherri:

Hi Julia, it’s Sherri, just calling to give you a report. The Springfield house is getting a lot of interest. I’ve gotten calls for walkthroughs and prices. If you’re even slightly interested, call me. I want to capitalize on this. Let me know. Love to the kids.

Julia sighed in frustration. “Of course I haven’t given you a selling price, Sherri,” she said softly. “I told you I’m not ready to sell.”

She heard a thump upstairs and froze. It was not repeated, nor was there any wail of discomfort from the bedrooms, so she decided to let it go and turned back to the issue at hand.

To be fair, she told herself, she couldn’t really be mad at Sherri. She should have stuck to her guns and refused to show the house. Julia decided to end this now.

But even as she began to dial, she hesitated. The price Sherri quoted in an earlier conversation was very tempting, especially since they had a place to live in until she found a new job. Even if she didn’t get that job, running the house in Springfield was pricey: it was designed for two incomes, not one.

Julia called and got Sherri’s voicemail. She left a message:

“Hi Sherri, it’s Julia. This is very tempting, but I am concerned that we are misleading these clients. I have been pretty clear that I am not selling the house unless circumstances force me to and they haven’t yet. Is it ethical, then, to give these people a price, allow them to do the research and financing, only to pull the rug out from under them at the last moment? I’m worried about this and would like your opinion.”

“Aunt Julia?”

Jack’s face was lined from sleep, and his clothes were tousled, his hair standing on end. He rubbed his eyes and looked around, and Julia couldn’t stop the grin spreading across her face. He was always adorable, but he was downright irresistible now.

“Did you have a good sleep?” she asked, wondering if he’d gotten any at all with the giggling girls next door to his room.

He nodded, and came in, dragging Yellow Teddy along limply behind him. “Is it tomorrow?”

Julia patted her lap invitingly. He climbed up and curled into a ball, snuggling up against her chest with his head just under her chin. She wrapped an arm around him and started rocking without thinking about it.

“It’s still today,” Julia said soothingly. “You’ve only been asleep an hour or so. Are the girls up?”

“No.” His voice was soft and sleepy. “I peeked into Dana’s room and they were both asleep on the floor.”

“On the floor?”

“Uh huh…”

They rocked for a few minutes in peaceful silence while Julia scrolled through her text messages.

Jack’s head dropped suddenly and she realized that he had fallen asleep again. She debated whether she should wake him by getting up, but the chair was soft, the warmth inviting, and it was so quiet in the living room that she was inclined just to sit. Not a sound issued from upstairs as she settled back in the chair. Exhaustion rolled in, and the past three weeks of frantic activity caught up with her.

Dreamlessly, the afternoon slipped by.

“Hey, sunshine.”

The voice was familiar, but out of place. Julia stirred. She was warm, too warm, but she couldn’t move to shed the blanket. Something was weighing her down. It moved and she remembered Jack. Then she realized that she was in a chair, that the chair was in the living room, then that the living room was in Franklin. It dawned on her that she’d heard a man’s voice right by her ear – while she was sleeping.

She sat up with a start, and Jack almost slid to the floor. Both she and Robert caught him in time, and Jack moaned in protest.

“Good afternoon, little man,” Robert said.

He lifted Jack off her lap and set him on his feet next the ottoman where he was sitting. The little boy rubbed his eyes and tottered off to the kitchen, Yellow Teddy in tow.

Relieved of Jack’s weight, Julia sat up and looked around. The sun was pouring through the west windows, heating the room.

Robert grinned at her. “Sleep well?” he asked.

“Yeah.” She rubbed her eyes. “Are the girls okay?”

“They’re still playing upstairs,” he assured her. “It’s a good thing the side door was unlocked, otherwise we might have busted something trying to get in.”

She sank back into the chair, hands over her face.

Great. You’re sweaty, messy, and you left the door unlocked. Anyone could have just walked in here. Oh, Lord, am I ever going to be used to being a full-time parent?

She muttered miserably through her hands, “I’m usually not - I don’t know what you must think.”

Brushing her hands away, he lifted her chin, studying her face. She wanted to pull away but couldn’t.

“I’m thinking that you must have been really exhausted. No wonder you wanted to take the day off,” he said softly.

Something in his tone was deeper than Julia felt prepared for. He had those intense brown eyes and an odd expression on his face, one that she couldn’t describe but really, really liked…

“Aunt Julia!” Dana came bouncing into the living room. “Come look at the gross
fish
that Ron caught.” She stopped when she saw them, confused and a little self-conscious.

Taking advantage of the broken moment, Julia pulled herself out of the chair and groaned, “Oh, ouch, that is a bad place to take a nap.”

“Not exactly a great bed,” Robert agreed. To Julia’s relief, his tone was normal and his expression guileless.

“What time is it?”

“It’s four o’clock,” Dana said. She shifted uncomfortably, still looking unsure.

“Oh, good grief, it’s so
late!
” Julia lamented. “You must think that we are the world’s worst couch potatoes, Robert. Imagine sleeping in ‘til four.”

“It’s not as bad as all of that,” he said. “Come on. Take a look at Ron’s fish. It won third place today and, if he’s not bursting with pride, he really ought to be.”

Straightening her clothes, she followed Robert towards the kitchen, wondering what she was going to do with a dead fish. How badly would she ruin Ron’s childhood if she asked him to allow her to give the fish a decent Christian burial and substitute it with fish sticks at dinner?

“It’s, like,
so
gross,” Dana said. “Ron said that it nearly tore his
arm
out when he was reeling him in.”

“Our Ron is quite the mariner,” Robert said cheerfully. “He caught so many fish that the guys decided to nickname him ‘Gorton.’”

In the kitchen, Ron stood at the table, beaming.

“Hi, Aunt Julia,” he said proudly. “I’ve got supper.” He gestured to the plate, and then something monumental happened.

The corners of his mouth tugged upwards and then he was smiling.

It left his face too quickly, but its affects remained. His face was more relaxed, his expression happier than it had been in months. Julia looked around quickly and caught Robert’s knowing nod. She hadn’t imagined it.

All of this from a dead fish?

Looking in the pan, she saw - to her relief - a nicely cleaned and cut fish nestled in tin-foil, ready for grilling. Ron handed her Robert’s phone and she saw a picture of the pair of them holding their catches. Ron’s was much larger than Robert’s.

She gasped. “Holy cow, Ron! That’s huge! What did you use for bait, a mackerel?”

“Just one of Robert’s flies,” he said, with more than a faint trace of pride. He handed the phone back to Robert. “We got lucky.”

“Lucky, nothing,” Robert said. “It was skill, Julia, pure and unadulterated skill and don’t let Modest Maurice here tell you anything else.”

“Send me the picture?” she asked.

“You bet. Well, I hate to catch and run, but tomorrow’s my first day back on the job and I promised myself dinner and a movie with a certain young lady that I know.”

Amelia gasped in excitement. She raced upstairs to get her hat and sunglasses, then back down again to say goodbye. “See you tomorrow, Aunt Julia!” she shouted as she darted out the side door ahead of her father.

Robert paused to look back apologetically. “Sorry, she must have picked it up from the others.”

Julia followed him outside. “I can think of many worse things to be called.”

Ahead of them, Amelia ran across the Wilde’s front lawn, almost dancing in excitement. The air was humid, and warm and the shadows were beginning to get long. Julia lifted her hair up from the back of her neck and sighed.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at church then?” Robert asked.

Julia felt a sudden pang. The week was over - she and Ron would continue working at the house alone.

Oh, well. That was the deal and you knew it would come to an end.

“Thank you again for all that you’ve done for my family this week, especially for today. You can’t possibly know what it meant to Ron to have all this time with you and the other boys. It’s – tremendous.”

Robert looked embarrassed and tried to brush it off. “It was a good excuse to go fishing. And he’s nice to hang around with.”

“Well, it meant a lot to all of us for you to give us this time like you did. I really appreciate it. We’ve had so much fun this week that it’s a shame that you have to get back to work.”

Did I just say that out loud?

“It was a lot of fun.” He paused. “We should do this again sometime.”

“We should,” she laughed, again grateful for his tact. “I owe you.”

“Looking after Amelia for me is thanks enough,” he said.

“Dad!” Amelia’s plaintive call echoed across the lawn. “Dad!”

“Coming!” He turned to Julia. “I probably should go.”

“I still feel guilty that you gave up your vacation for us.”

“Don’t. It was Amelia’s and my idea, remember?”

“But I don’t get why either of you would come up with it. I really don’t.”

He shrugged. “It’s what neighbors are supposed to do, right? Help each other out in times of difficulty. We just lucked out that your difficulty, in this case, was an easy one. Nothing simpler than fixing up a house.”

“Well, I guess. I’m glad I can return the favor, neighbor to neighbor.”

He held her eyes with his steady gaze, and Julia felt her heart speed up.

“Neighbor to neighbor,” he said softly.

The moment caught and held.

“Da-ad! I’m getting eaten alive out here!”

“Coming, sweetheart!” he called. Then, unexpectedly, he reached out and traced her cheek with his hand. “See you tomorrow,” he whispered.

Julia watched him disappear, rubbing her cheek and wondering if there was any reason to go back to Springfield at all.

33

“R
on!
Ron
!”

Dylan burst through the side door, shouting. His voice reverberated off the walls of the kitchen, making everyone in the dining room jump. “Ron, where are you?”

“Call me a psychic,” Julia said. “But I’m getting the feeling that someone is looking for you, Ron.”

“Doesn’t he knock?” Dana asked, rolling her eyes.

“I guess not,” Julia chuckled. “In here, Dylan!”

Ron pushed back from the table as Dylan burst in.

“Ron!” he said, then slid to a halt when he saw that the room was full. “Oh. Sorry, Julia. I was just looking for Ron.” He glanced at him, fingering his backpack.

Ron felt a shiver of excitement. Dylan must have something really important.

“You look like you’re in a hurry,” Julia said.

“Just wanted to show Ron my, uh, school project. Top secret, you know.” He looked at Ron. “Got a minute?”

Julia got up. “It’s all right, Ron. Why don’t you take Dylan upstairs, show him your room, and take a look at his project. But, remember – we’re having an early night tonight.”

Dylan was bouncing on his toes with excitement. Ron led the way upstairs into his bedroom where Dylan slung his backpack on the bed and scanned the room approvingly.

“Nice,” he said. “Wait until you check this out, Ron, just wait.”

Ron’s stomach squeezed with excitement. “New evidence?”

“Just wait. I’ve got it right here.”

The older boy’s hands shook as he opened the laptop. Soon Ron’s neatly made bed was covered in Dylan’s battered and somewhat grimy equipment.

“Dude, this place is seriously haunted. I’m not kidding. We’re on to something
huge
. We’re going to have to step up the investigation, big time. We seriously have to go in and we can’t do it alone anymore. I’ve already texted a few of the guys, and they’re all going be at the birthday party tomorrow. We’ll talk, figure out what to do, when to go in, what to take with us – have to play it safe for now… oh, sweet, the program’s up. Now watch this.”

He worked the keyboard for a few minutes and pulled up a picture of the side of the house, showing a couple of the windows on both floors. He manipulated the image so that it shuddered, grew, and diminished. After a few failed attempts, Dylan got as close as he wanted, but Ron still didn’t see what was unusual about the side of the house. He was beginning to think that this was just Dylan’s wishful thinking.

“Now, look” Dylan demanded.

Ron leaned in and his stomach dropped. In the window, partially covered by a tattered, gray curtain, was a human hand. A translucent human hand.

Dylan was regarding him with grim anticipation.

“What –
what
?” Ron gasped.

“Meet Mrs. Stephanie Lang,” Dylan said in a hoarse whisper. “The
late
Mrs. Stephanie Lang.”

“But…” Ron said, trying to come up with some reasonable
explanation. “It’s a person… right?”

“Look,” Dylan pointed. “You can see right through the hand there to the folds of the curtain. Transparent.”

He was right. Ron felt dizzy. “But ghosts don’t exist!”

“Oh yes, they do.” He tapped the screen triumphantly. “They’re in Franklin and tomorrow night you, me, and the guys are going to slip out of the Ojacors’ party and go down to that old house and get the final proof that we need. Isn’t this awesome?”

Ron couldn’t think of anything to say.

They stared silently at the photo; then, just when Ron thought he couldn’t stand it anymore, Dylan abruptly shut down the program and turned off the computer.

“Enough of that,” he said, hastily. “I gotta get home before dark.”

Ron finally found his voice. “But why?”

“Why what?” Dylan asked, shoving everything into his backpack.

“Why would someone haunt the Lang house?

“I dunno.” He paused. “Unfinished business, maybe?”