The Lake House: a killer psychological thriller by Theo Baxter

Author:Theo Baxter [Baxter, Theo]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Inkubator Books
Published: 2024-05-19T00:00:00+00:00

22

The dinner was either going to be a disaster, or it was going to be perfect; there was no other option. I didn’t even know how I felt about it anymore. I had gone back and forth and back again about whether or not it was a good idea.

I didn’t tell Dr. Delgado. I didn’t know if it was a bad idea to blatantly ignore your therapist’s advice and then not tell him you were doing so, but…

Well, it was too late now. I’d already bought the fresh pasta.

I was cleaning my house when I heard the doorbell ring. I freaked out, thinking that somehow time had sped forward, and I wasn’t even close to being ready. The doorbell kept ringing, which convinced me it was Mary either canceling the dinner or coming in ready to start a storm. I shuffled over in my cleaning clothes, fluffing up my hair as much as I could so that I would at least look good when I greeted my guests with dust bunnies and uncooked pasta.

Brian stood at my door, holding a plastic bag. “Laura! Fancy seeing you here.”

It was his flirting voice.

Had this been a couple of months ago, I would have puffed out my chest, dimpled my cheeks, and played along with his game. But it wasn’t, it was after Brandy’s death, after Tony and Mary and, most importantly, after meeting Graham. Besides, now was so not the time.

“Hi, Brian. Did we have plans today?” I asked as casually as I could.

“Absolutely not, sorry for catching you, um, in the middle of something?” He smirked at my outfit.

I was not cute in my cleaning outfit, it was a pair of old paint-splattered overalls, and I usually wore a sports bra beneath so that I wouldn’t get it dirty or bleach-stained.

“It’s fine. What is that?” I asked, pointing to his bag.

“I saw you in town this morning at Mangiare, buying fresh pasta, so I figured you were entertaining. I had these coat hooks lying around and thought I’d pass them along to help you spruce up the place before you had guests.” He smiled his megawatt smile and handed me the bag of very heavy coat hooks.

“Thanks, I, um… I don’t think I need them. Besides, these are heavy; I feel like they’ll bring down the whole wall.”

“Not at all. That just means they’ll stand up to whatever you throw at them — literally,” Brian said as he brushed past me into my entryway. He placed the hooks on the wall and stepped back as far as he could.

I had to admit, they looked much nicer than the cheap ones I’d bought. They probably wouldn’t fall out of the wall when I put my parka on them, either. I closed the door and decided to entertain Brian — just this one last time.

“Let me change, and I can help you out,” I said, scurrying past him.

“Don’t worry about it. I love this look. You could be a painter — a younger Leonora Carrington or something,” he said with a wink.

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