The Waiting: A Supernatural Thriller (8 page)

BOOK: The Waiting: A Supernatural Thriller
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“Absolutely
. Becky Tram works part-time in OT and is a PCA on the side. I’ll let the desk know, and they’ll give you her information.”


We’re a little out of the way,” Evan said.

“I’m sure she won’t mind. Where are you staying?”

“The island ...” Evan searched for the nickname Jacob had said the day before. “The Fin.”

Something flashed across Netler’s eyes. It was there and
then gone like a bird’s shadow on the ground. She smiled. “I’m guessing she’d still be able to help, but you’ll have to ask her. Take care, guys.”

Without another look, Netler
left the room. He watched her go, and stood still for a moment after the door closed behind her.

“Dere?” Shaun pointed toward the ball pit.

“There,” Evan said, still looking at the door, then lowered Shaun into the large playpen.

 

~

 

They spent the rest of the morning grocery shopping and exploring the shops along Main Street. They stopped at a quaint coffee shop with a great view of the lake. Evan got a large dark roast, and Shaun, a small hot chocolate that he drank through a straw once it was cool enough. A little boy, no older than five, wandered over to their table on the patio, a green balloon clutched in a chubby fist. He stared at Shaun, who sat in a chair pulled up next to Evan’s. Shaun smiled and reached toward the floating balloon.

“Hi there,” Evan said
, and glanced over the boy’s head at a woman who must’ve been his mother ordering a drink at the counter.

The boy examined Shaun and tilted his head wh
en Shaun made an excited sound.

“What’s wrong with him?” the boy asked.

Evan was figuring out a response when the boy’s mother grasped her son by the shoulder, guiding him away.

“I’m sorry,” she said
, shoving the boy toward their car parked along the sidewalk.

Evan smiled halfheartedly. “It’s okay.”
He didn’t think she heard him. The mother admonished the boy in hushed tones as she stowed him away inside the car.

“It’s okay,”
he repeated, and stroked the side of Shaun’s face.

When they finished their drinks
, they stopped at a liquor store near the landing, and Evan picked up a few bottles of cabernet sauvignon. They were unloading the van when Jacob came out of his store and made his way to them down the ramp, his face one big smile.

“There
ya are. Missed ya this mornin’.”

Evan shook hands with the older man.

“And how’s Shaun t’day?” Jacob said, stooping beside the minivan. Jacob held out a hand that Shaun managed to slap lightly. “Aye, you got it! Lemme help ya with yer things,” Jacob said to Evan.

The two men loaded the groceries and wine into the pontoon while Shaun watched. The lake was a mirror, flat blue stretching out beyond sight. A pair of loons paddled by the docks, their pointed black heads dark aga
inst the contrast of the water.

“Beautiful day,” Evan said,
slamming the hatch of the van.

“Yessir,” Jacob said
, leaning against the vehicle.

“Fishing been good?”

Jacob tipped his head back and forth. “So-so. Been better years before, might improve in a weeks’ time.”

Evan waited a few beats, trying to find the right way to ask the questions that had needled him since he opened
the refrigerator at the house.

“Can I ask you some
thing, Jacob?”

“Aye
, boyo.”

“What do you know about the last caretaker Jason had at the house?”

Jacob sucked on his lower lip for a few moments before replying. “Name was Bob, I believe. Di’n’t come ta town too often, stayed mostly on the Fin. Quiet fella.”

“And you didn’t see him leave this spring?”

Jacob shook his head. “Di’n’t know nothin’ was askew till Jason called an I went out there ta check. Shamed ta say I di’n’t inspect too much, just poked around the house a bit, saw he wasn’t there, an told Jason.”

“What
do you think happened to him?”

“Jest wandered off, I s
’pose. People do that sometimes durin’ a long winter. Get a bit restless, cabin fever an whatnot. Mighta got lost ’n’ froze in the woods, never know.”


Wasn’t there a search for him?”

“Su
re, local sheriff went ta the Fin, had a look around. Seemed that Bob di’n’t have much, if any, family, none that came callin’ anyway.”

Evan frowned and sought out the dark spot on the lake’
s surface. “It’s pretty weird.”

“Yeh
, life’s tha’ way, weird shit till we die, I s’pose.”

“You can say that again.” Evan reached out and shook Jacob’s h
and. “Now I owe you two beers.”

“I’ve got a tally up in the shop.”

Both men laughed, and Jacob headed up the ramp, toward the store. After parking the van and carrying Shaun back to the pontoon, Evan untied them and set off across the lake. His mind wandered as they cruised along, his eyes scanning the woods bordering the lake. Was Bob’s body somewhere out there, a rotting carcass now bloated beyond recognition?

Or is he still in the house?

Evan shivered despite the warmth of the sun, and shook his head to clear it, as the pontoon’s motor labored to bring them closer and closer to the growing mass of land.

 

8

 

 

 

The afternoon drifted away from them in a humid curl of time.

They spent
an hour outside practicing balancing techniques for Shaun, Evan holding his hand firm at first and then less and less, until he stood for a few seconds on his own. The triumph on his small face sent a warm hum deep in Evan’s chest, and he hugged Shaun close before letting him try again.

Later, Evan laid out a blanket on the grass below the house and they practiced flash cards
on the iPad, the interspersed shafts of sunlight rippling around them with the movement of the trees above. The program’s odd mechanical voice sounded out of place in the peaceful yard as Shaun touched each object on the screen. When they finished, they lay side by side, listening to the waves on the shore, Evan telling Shaun a story he made up as he went along. They watched for birds in the branches overhead, Evan drawing a laugh from his son each time he exclaimed loudly and caused the birds to take flight, or at least to ruffle their feathers indignantly.

When Shaun fell asleep, Evan picked him up and carried him inside to his bed, tucking him beneath a single sheet. He watched the slow rise and fall of his chest, the twitch of his fingers as he dreamed. Evan wondered what his dreams
were like. Were they full of color and peaceful? Could he walk like other children and speak the words that refused to come while awake?

“Someday, buddy, you just wait,” he whispered.

A knock at the front door jolted Evan back to himself, and he stepped out of Shaun’s room, his heart pounding against his breastbone. He moved to the entry trying to recall if he’d heard a boat motor recently. Should he open it? Who could be calling on them?

Bob.

Stop it.

Steadying himself he opened the door to
Selena Belgaurd waiting on the stoop, a smile on her pretty face and a pie cradled in her hands.

“Hi,
sorry to bother you,” she said.

“Oh, no, that’s okay,” Evan said
, trying to find his bearings.

“I wanted to repay you for helping me yesterday. What’s the saying? ‘Up the creek without a paddle’?”

Evan smiled. “Or across the lake.” She laughed. “Sorry, come on in,” he said, stepping aside.

“Oh, I don’t want to intrude, I just wanted to drop this off for you guys.” She held out the pie to him. Evan took it from her hands. “Hope you like blueberry.”

“Love it.” Evan looked from the pie to Selena’s face, a tilting sensation barely balancing within him. The urge to thank her and shut the door was overpowering, but he muscled past it and held out one hand toward the living room.

“Please,
come in, you’re not intruding.”

Selena
’s eyes pinched a little with her smile, and he noticed again how blue they were, the color of the lake beneath a clear sky.

“Thank you,” she said
, and stepped inside.

Evan shut the door and walked past
her to the kitchen, placing the pie on the counter before returning. Selena stood in the middle of the living room, taking in the surroundings.

“Thi
s is a really beautiful house.”

“Thanks, we’re liking it so far.”

Selena nodded and looked out the window at the lake, then returned her gaze to him. A nervous tension tightened around him, and his mind spun its wheels, trying to gain traction.

“I’m sorry, would you like something to dri
nk? We have water, milk, wine.”

“Actually
, a glass of wine sounds wonderful.”

“Perfect.”

Evan strode to the kitchen and took a deep, calming breath, then searched for something to pour the wine into. He flipped open cupboards until he found two dusty wineglasses, and rinsed them off before uncorking one of the bottles of cabernet sauvignon. When he returned to the living room, he found Selena sitting in the middle of the couch. He handed her a glass and sat in a nearby chair.

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

After taking a sip,
Selena glanced around. “Where’s your little boy?”

“He’s napping,” Evan said
, and motioned toward Shaun’s room.

Selena
nodded, opened her mouth, and closed it again, then took another sip of wine.

“He had
a traumatic brain injury.” Selena looked at him, her eyes soft. “I usually tell people up front so they’re not wondering.”

“Oh, I wasn’t, I didn’t mean to press
—”

He
shook his head, then drained half his glass. “Not at all.”

“That’
s why he has trouble speaking?”

“Yes, along with a range of other developmental disabilities
, like walking, fine motor skills, balance, that type of thing.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.”

“How did it happen, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Evan sipped his wine. “We were in a car accident a little over four years ago, when he was three. We got hit by a truck in an intersection, complete accident, it was slippery and the other driver couldn’t stop. Shaun’s car seat shifted enough with the impact for his head to hit the window. He was in a coma for two weeks, and when he came out, he’d lost most of what he’d learned.”

Selena
’s free hand hovered over her mouth. “That’s terrible.”

He
smiled. “We were lucky, and he’s making progress every day. Not much more I can ask for.”

“It must be
so hard for you and your wife.”

Evan’s hand holding his glass halted midway to his mouth
, and then continued. He finished the rest of his wine. Selena’s shoulders slumped and her eyes closed.

“My God, I’m so sorry. I’m having a lot of trouble getting my feet out of my mouth. I’ll just
—” She stood and set her glass down.

“It’s okay, you
don’t have to leave.”

“I’m sorry, I saw your wedding ring and assumed
...”

Evan glanced at his left hand. The
tungsten-carbide band shone in the afternoon light. It was hard to miss.

“No, you’re fine, don’t worry about it.”

Selena sat on the couch as though the cushions held shattered glass. “Was it in the same crash?”

“No, two years later. Cancer.”

Selena only sighed in response. The house creaked around them with a gust of wind, and Evan looked out the window, the sound of the wind chimes no longer brilliant, but a flat, jangling chorus.

“How have you managed?”
Selena asked, a look of incredulity on her face.

“Shaun’s the light of my life, I wouldn’t have made it without him. Good
friends and one day at a time.”

“Sorry, I don’t mean to pry, just my profession shining through
, I guess.”

“What do you do?” Evan asked, than
kful for the change of subject.

“I’m a psychologist.”

“Really? Only one in town?”

Selena
laughed, a hearty sound that made Evan smile without realizing it. “Pretty sure, yes. Not too much call for one in Mill River, but I get by.”

“You grew up here?”

“No, Minneapolis. I moved about three years ago. I’ve got a little building over on Outlet Road that I practice out of.” Selena held up her ring hand and waggled her fingers. “Divorced once, no kids, and that pretty much sums up my life.”

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