Ghost House Revenge by Clare McNally

Author:Clare McNally
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: DCA, Inc.

By midnight, Derek decided it was safe to enter Alicen’s room. To be certain, he listened carefully at her door until he heard her even breathing. Then he pushed it open and groped his way inside. His hands touched the sweater, hanging on the desk chair again, but found that the pockets were empty. Holding his breath, he carefully searched the desk. When it came to nothing, he turned and crept to the bed.

Derek stood over his daughter for a long time, wondering why she had done this thing. She looked so innocent, lying there breathing softly. Her hair was spread out on her pillow, her lower lip jutted out in a slight pout. She looked more than innocent. She was like a little child, the way Derek remembered her being before Elaine’s death. My God, she had been a pretty little girl. What the hell had happened these past six years? Was Alicen’s crime the result of their struggles to get by on catch-as-catch-can jobs, living in motels or basement apartments? Or was it the fact that Derek had been just a little ignorant of a growing girl’s needs?

He had never admitted that possibility to himself. But now, seeing the trouble his daughter was in, he wondered if he should have been a little more understanding. After all, she was a child, and—

No, Derek told himself firmly, I did the right thing when I tried to make her independent. You have to control your emotions to get by in this world.

And right now, I have to get that ring.

Derek snaked his hand under her pillow. His daughter turned in her sleep, mumbling something. Thinking he had awakened her, he stepped back into the shadows. Alicen moved again, and in the thin shaft of moonlight, Derek saw the glistening facets of the diamond in her opened palm. Carefully he took it.

He could barely make out the banister and wheelchair lift as he reached the stairs, and he touched them both as he walked down. The dining room was dimly lit by moonlight shining through the bay windows. By contrast, the kitchen was almost blinding. Someone had left the light on, and he squeezed his eyes shut until they could adjust. At last, removing the ring from his bathrobe pocket, he walked to the oven. If he hid the ring there, it would look as if Sarah had dropped it when she fell.

Derek bent toward the floor but stopped when he heard a noise behind him, a dull thud, like a heavy footstep. He looked over his shoulder. There was no one behind him, and when he turned back to the oven, he saw only his reflection in its glass door. He laughed at his fears, then proceeded with his task.

All at once there was another thud, and he felt a flash of pain. This noise had sounded from his own back, something knocking against it and sending him flying forward. His face came down hard on the oven door handle, a pain shot up through his forehead.

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