Before I can seriously contemplate making the move, he chuckles, dropping his hands down away from my waist, but he doesn’t step back. “Sorry about that.”
“About what?” I ask, my voice sounding bolder than I feel.
“Um.” He swallows. We’re so close in the kitchen that I swear I can feel his heartbeat, our chests touching. With each inhale, he presses against me. He brushes hair back from his eyes, opening his mouth. His dark eyes heat with something dangerous. “I just…” He blinks and looks away. “My point is…don’t let her take anything else from you.”
I swallow, unsure if he’s talking about the house or…something—someone—else. My stomach flips at the thought. When did I stop hating him? When did he start feeling less like an enemy and more like a friend? What if he’s just tricking me so he can keep the house?
With that worry plaguing me, I can no longer focus on how good he smells or how much I like the feel of his hands on my skin. Chills creep down my spine, and I step back, clearing my throat.
The smile dies on his lips.
“Where’d you go?” he asks. “Did I do something or?—”
“I should get to bed,” I say, cutting him off. I don’t know what’s coming over me or why I’m suddenly incapable of controlling my thoughts around this man.
I can’t trust anyone but myself, I know this. Before I can change my mind, I dart from the room.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
BRIDGET
The next morning, before I’ve even brushed my hair or changed into clothes, I race down the stairs and swing open the door. It’s starting to feel like Christmas with gifts I don’t want, but I also can’t resist.
When I spot the welcome mat, my heart sinks. There’s nothing there. No letter, no security camera box, which was supposed to also have been delivered last night.
That’s when I remember—the gate code.
Shoot. My heart plummets. I changed the code yesterday but forgot to update it in the delivery app. When I look ahead, I can vaguely see a hint of something brown attached to the iron gate—the letter is there waiting for me.
Without hesitation, I slip on my shoes and rush down the driveway as fast as my legs will carry me. When I reach the gate, my heart is racing in my chest, both from exertion and adrenaline.
The letter has been taped to the front of the gate—the sender couldn’t get inside. I pass by the motion sensor, causing the gate to slowly start opening, and squeeze through the small crack before it can swing open the rest of the way.
Quickly, I tear the letter from the gate and rip open the brown envelope, reading the words waiting for me.
Bridget,
By now, I hope you trust that I am trying to help you. I’ve been honest with you about almost everything. There are, however, a few lies I need to correct, and I hope you’ll understand why I had to tell them.
The first is merely a lie of omission. You see, while I promised you just one more letter after this one, I’m sure you have several questions for me that can’t be answered with just these two letters. Therefore, in addition to the next letter, I will give you something that I hope will answer more questions than I could.
I thought you should hear the truth from Vera herself. Check the panel in the back of her top dresser drawer.
I will tell you the second lie, and the final secret, very soon.
Signed,
A friend
I read the letter again, skimming to the important parts, then look around. What could the letter mean? How on earth will I get to hear this from Vera herself?
My mind goes instantly to the tapes in the basement. Will there be a recording of her somehow? A home movie? Was Vera the type of serial killer who recorded her crimes? Does that sort of killer even exist?
If it is a videotape, I won’t have a way to watch whatever I’m meant to see until I find a way to play it, which is proving challenging. I spent a few hours last night scrolling through online listings for VHS players, but I found very few to choose from.
On the ground near the edge of the driveway, propped up against the brick pillars framing the gate, I spot a brown box that tells me exactly what I expected. Without the correct code to get inside, the delivery driver who was dropping off the security camera was left with no choice but to put the package here.
I scoop up the box and hurry back toward the house.