The Night Visitor (31 page)
Authors: Dianne Emley
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal, #General, #Thrillers, #Suspense, #Crime
“Not letting any moss grow under their feet, are they?”
Rory tossed more scarves onto the chair. “They ought to tear that place down after everything’s that’s gone on there.”
Donna used both hands to lift a bunch of clothes off a rack. She carried them to a rolling garment rack outside the door. “Have you decided what you’re going to do with this house?”
“Not sure. Tom and I have talked about what to do. Part of me wants to sell everything and be done with it, but it’s such a great house and location. My beach condo is cramped with both of us living there now.”
Donna came back into the closet. “I think Anya would have liked you and Tom living here.”
Rory shrugged. “Maybe. She was hard to figure out.”
“I still don’t see how she could have planned to marry Richard.” Donna shuddered. “I wonder if it was more about money to support her lifestyle than revenge on your mom. You’d think that Anya could have done better than going back to Richard, a man who molested her as a child.”
“I’ve asked around about that. Turns out it’s not that uncommon for the abused to go back to their abuser. It makes me so sad to think about it.”
Donna nodded. They both fell silent.
After a minute, Donna said, “I don’t have the strength for this on an empty stomach. I’m going to have a bite of the Luna bar in my purse. You want some?”
“No, thanks.”
Donna left. Rory bundled up the scarves and carried them out. When she returned, she looked around, trying to decide where to focus her energies next. She peered up at shelves crammed with shoe boxes that reached the ceiling. A rolling, library-style ladder provided access to the higher shelves. She climbed the ladder, grabbed a stack of boxes, came down, and set them on the floor. After several more trips, in the back corner of the highest shelf, hidden by boxes stacked in front of it, she found a ragged cardboard box, brittle with age. It was the only thing she’d found in the house that hinted of history.
She carefully carried down the large flat box, afraid it would fall apart. She set it on the carpet and plopped cross-legged in front of it. She took off the lid and leaned back onto her hands, stunned by what she had found.
She lifted out one of the red leather boots. The silver-toned zipper down the back was tarnished, but the soles showed little wear and the red hue was still bright. She took out the mate and stood them side by side, facing her.
She was transported back to her Uncle Dave’s vegetable garden, that hot afternoon shortly after her and Anya’s fourteenth birthday. She had been pulling weeds, alone with her thoughts, starting to become accustomed to solitude after never having experienced it, even in the womb. Then she’d seen Anya, picking her way through the vegetables, beautiful, chic, and arrogant, wearing the very same boots that Rory had wanted for her birthday, the ones that their mother had deemed too extravagant.
Rory remembered watching the boots at eye level while Anya had delivered her message. “I came to tell you something. You can’t live in the villa. I don’t want you at the Polytechnic School either. I don’t want you around me. Just stay away from me. Get it?”
It was the moment that Rory had begun to hate her sister, launching the anger that would fester for years in Rory’s heart.
Anya had gotten what she’d wanted, as usual. Rory didn’t have anything to do with her or the Villa del Sol d’Oro for ages. Rory now understood that Anya had spurned her one true friend when Anya had needed a friend the most. She had made Rory hate her, knowing exactly how to do it, to save her sister from the abuse that she had encountered at the grand hilltop estate.
Rory pulled off her tennis shoes. The boots’ old zippers barely gave. She slipped her feet inside, zipped the boots over the legs of her jeans, and stood. She walked to a full-length mirror. She felt the presence of her big sister, older by six minutes, taller by two inches, fatally troubled, and braver than she’d ever realized.
Rory wiggled her toes. Even with socks, the boots were too big.
For my husband,
Charles G. Emley, Jr.,
A love whose burning light
Will warm the winter night…
Acknowledgments
A huge thank you, as always, to my longtime, wonderful editor, Dana Isaacson. It’s always a joy to talk about stories and share lots of laughs with you. I deeply appreciate and am elevated by your unflagging faith in this book and in my work.
Special words of appreciation for my agent, Robin Rue, her excellent assistant, Beth Miller, and everyone at Writers House.
I’m grateful to the Random House/Alibi team for their support. Special thanks to Scott Biel for the fabulous cover design and April Flores and Kim Cowser for savvy PR and marketing. A big hat’s off to Dianna Stirpe for the excellent copy editing work.
Thanks to the various medical professionals who helped me get the details right, especially D.P. Lyle, MD.
For the readers who like to track down actual locations mentioned in books, the Pasadena neighborhood of Five Points, the Killingsworth Building, and the Villa del Sol d’Oro are products of my imagination.
Several friends played pivotal roles in the development of this book, reading messy early drafts and rendering wise advice. Thank you: Jayne Anderson, Jackie Baller, Ann Escue, Mary Goss, Leslie Pape, and Debra Shatford.
A special debt of gratitude to my pal, Toni Johnston, who not only read numerous drafts of this book but was also its unwavering champion during all the years that I thought it would forever stay in a bottom drawer of my desk.
I also acknowledge my father, William Pugh, and his end-of-life experience that partially served as an inspiration for this book.
And last, but never least, thanks to my husband, Charlie, my safety net, my love, for all the big and little things.
B
Y
D
IANNE
E
MLEY
The First Cut
Cut to the Quick
The Deepest Cut
The Night Visitor
Dianne Emley is a
Los Angeles Times
bestselling author and has received critical acclaim for her Detective Nan Vining thrillers including
The First Cut
and
Love Kills
and the Iris Thorne mysteries including
Pushover
. Her short fiction has been published in
Literary Pasadena
among other anthologies. Her books have been translated into six languages. She has held jobs as varied as drill press operator, California Department of Consumer Affairs complaint handler, clothing boutique buyer, egg and poultry industry marketer, software company sales manager, and technical writer. A Los Angeles native, she lives in the Central California wine country with her husband, Charlie, and is gleefully happy with her favorite and final profession: crime writer.
Facebook.com/DianneEmleyAuthor
goodreads.com/author/show/
83073.Dianne_Emley
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