Whispers in the Walls by Claire Dowler

Author:Claire Dowler
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Urban thriller, Unreliable protagonist, Suspense thriller, Urban suspense, Female protagonist, Suburban, Urban
Publisher: Claire Dowler
Published: 2022-11-29T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

“Shit.” Sonja glanced at me in surprise. I didn’t care, my life was falling apart at the seams.

“Is everything alright?” Ethan had the window down before he pulled up to the kerb, not wanting to waste time parking beneath the house.

“Quite alright, sir. Are you the man of the house?” Sheriff Hemble abandoned any hope of staying dry and extended a hand as Ethan climbed out of the car, awkwardly holding his coat over himself as a makeshift shelter.

“Yeah, guess I am.” He looked at me searchingly. “What happened?”

“I’m Sheriff Darren Hemble. Your wife thought she found a hidden camera.” He was speaking loudly to be heard over the growing storm. I cast a furtive glance at the neighbours’ houses, looking for ears pressed to windows. “I did a thorough search of the house, and it looks like it was just a trick of the light. I think a good night’s sleep is all that’s required, but please call if you need anything, sir.”

It was painful watching Ethan’s expression shift from fearful concern to frustrated exasperation and, finally, embarrassment. “Thank you, Sheriff. I will.”

Under the shelter of the alcove, he placed a hand on my shoulder, and we waited until the sheriff’s tail lights had disappeared over the crest of the hill and Sonja’s door was firmly closed before we spoke. “I’ll put the car under. Meet you inside.”

I grimaced at the copious amount of tape which was still bordering most of the furnishings. I didn’t have time to rip it all down now, there was no point in trying. Besides, I felt safer with it up.

To Ethan’s credit, he kept his reaction internal as his footsteps paced slowly down the hallway and he took in the state of the house.

His shoes finally stopped in the spot I was staring at on the floor. He was dripping, forming a little puddle where he stood. I felt bad, guilty even. With another stressor added to the ever-growing list, he had gone off to work to do his best to keep a roof over our heads. All I had to do was stay home and not create any more drama. Of course, that wasn’t what I was doing, but I knew that’s what it looked like.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” His voice was level, controlled. That was part of what I loved about Ethan; his ability to remain calm in any situation. As it turned out, it also made him unnerving.

“It doesn’t matter.” I didn’t want to do this.

“The sheriff was here, the house looks like the inside of Tutankhamun’s sarcophagus, and it doesn’t matter? We promised no more secrets, remember?”

I sighed, yes, we did. “Lauralie was here tonight.”

“Who?”

“Lauralie,” I snapped, annoyed he obviously hadn’t been paying attention or hadn’t cared enough to remember. “The lady who lives in the grey house up the street. Her little sister, Lana, drowned with Sonja’s son, Blain, remember?”

“The recluse? What was she doing here?”

“She came here to— to warn me.”

“To warn you,” he repeated blankly.

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