Page 31 of Heartless

“Not again.” My voice is low and hoarse. I sigh into the emptiness of my room as Doom hops up onto the bed, tail flicking back and forth as he purrs and creeps toward my lap. “Where’s Gloom, huh?” I murmur, scratching his head. I don’t look away from the window as the wailing gets louder, and once again I realize I’m about to be privy to at least two cop cars speeding down my street.

Biting my lip I wait, and sure enough two cars zip down the street, my heart twisting nervously, as if they’ll stop here for some reason. Like they did the other night when Cass broke in. “Keep going,” I plead softly, unable to look anywhere except out my window. “Please keep going.”

The grip around my heart loosens somewhat when the cop cars don’t stop outside of my house. I let out a breath even as they slow, turning onto a street adjacent to mine. From my view I can just see them stopping outside of a house a street over, though I have no idea who it belongs to. Not to mention, it’s too far away for me to see more than the flash of lights and the stark white of a cop car between houses.

Predictably, and almost like clockwork, my phone rings. I glance down, seeing Reagan’s name flash on the screen, and I can’t exactly be surprised. Not when she lives about four streets over in the direction the police have stopped. If I can hear them, so can she.

“What the fuck is going on?”she asks as soon as I hit the button to answer my phone and put it on speaker. “This is insane. There’s no way that another murder happened, right?”

“I don’t know,” I admit, getting to my feet and going to sit on the bench at my window. Curling my legs under me as I do, mynose nearly pressed to the glass as I look around my street. I’m not surprised to see my neighbors across the street are already out on their porch, though when they realize that the action is on the other side of their house they head back in, probably to spy through the windows, much like I’m doing. “I don’t know who’s house that is either. Can you see anything?” Between us I figure we can set up some kind of sad little surveillance network. All we need is a third and fourth and we’d have a perfect square around the neighborhood for learning everyone’s business.

“Not a thing. I saw an ambulance go by and I can sort of see where they’re stopped, but it’s too far away from my house. Plus, the Browns have their Halloween decorations up, so all I can see are cringey inflatables and shit.” She sounds annoyed, and I’m nice enough not to remind her that as a child and teenager she’d loved their decorations and begged me to ask if they’d put them up early.

Sometimes I miss the kid that Reagan used to be. Even though the adult she is now is great and I’d consider her one of my best friends. Or rather, really my only friend in Hayden Fields, apart from my nephew and sister.

But saying I’m friends with a nine-year-old feels a little bit pathetic, and I’m pretty sure my sister is legally obligated to be my friend when she wants me to babysit for her.

“Maybe it’s something normal. Like a prank? I told you someone called the cops out to my house the other night, right? They said someone reported a disturbance or something. It totally had to be a prank.” My fingers drum lightly against the cold glass as I stare at the space between houses as though someone is going to part the walls like Moses did with the red sea.

“Yeah, you did tell me that. That was weird. But would there be an ambulance for a prank call like this? That seems, I don’t know, excessive if it’s just a disturbance call.” But her voicewaivers, and I can hear the uncertainty in her tone. Neither of us has any idea what could be going on.

But both of us are obviously thinking the same thing.

“I’ll go investigate since you did the heavy lifting last time,” Reagan says finally, breaking me out of my thoughts. She heaves a sigh, and I hear movement on her end of the phone like she’s throwing stuff around her perpetually messy room. She curses, and I hear athudlike something has fallen.

“You know if your room wasn’t a disaster zone you might not have to practice your obstacle course conquering skills first thing in the morning,” I can’t help but comment. Though I realize that I’m not going to see anything, I still get to my feet.

“Bite me, Winnie.” Her voice is sweet and full of sarcasm. “Anyway, I know this is a bad time since I’m going on a recon mission and all. But I wanted to see if you’d go to Dark Acres with me next Friday.”

“Uh, sure. I’m surprised you waited so long to ask.” Honestly, I haven’t thought about the haunted cornfield and barns in a while. It’s only relevant when Halloween rolls around, and Reagan can be counted on to drag me out there at least once before the season is over and it’s back to being a normal farm for families and tourists to pick apples, pumpkins, and sit on straw bales for bumpy hayrides. “Friday I can totally do.”

“If you and your mom are doing anything, though, let me know. I don’t mind rescheduling.” When I don’t reply, silence fills the line for a few tense moments. “Winnie?” Reagan sounds hesitant. “Is everything okay? Did I say something wrong?”

“Mom is out of town until November,” I say flatly, grabbing a pair of soft sweatpants and a t-shirt from my drawer full of them. “So uh, no. We aren’t doing anything special. Or anything at all, actually. I guess I’ll feel blessed if she even remembers to call me this month.” Though sometimes I wonder if it’s less about her not remembering and more about her not caring.

One day, I’ll have to face up to the fact that my mom can barely look at me, and still blames me somewhat for what happened with her second husband.

One day, I’ll have to decide if I can live with those feelings she has towards me.

But this is definitely not that day, or that week. Probably not even that century, truth be told.

“Oh, shit. That’s…I’m sorry, Winnie. Seriously, that sucks. You know you can spend a few days or weeks here. Or I can come there if you don’t want to be alone.”Her offer is genuine, and a smile touches my lips.

Dropping the phone on the bed, I strip out of the tank top and shorts I’d changed into sometime during the night. “It’s okay. I work a lot this month, anyway.” It’s not a lie, even though I took the weekend off to make it longer. Within seconds, I’m dressed in black sweatpants and a soft green t-shirt with a faded print of a barely recognizable cat. “Anyway, yeah. I’m excited about next Friday.” Excited is a strong word, but I realize I’m looking forward to Dark Acres now that she’s brought it up.

“We’ll make a night of it. You know, get dinner beforehand. Maybe after we can watch a movie if it’s not too late?” I hear her door close behind her and realize she must be outside.

“Yeah, definitely.” Absently, I wander back to my bay window and sit down on the bench, eyes fixed on the road in front of my house.

And the police car that’s pulled up alongside my driveway, blocking me in if I were to try to leave. My stomach twists and I stare down at the car, confused as hell. “What?” I realize I’ve missed whatever she’s said to me, due to being so focused and in my own head.

“I said I’m going to let you go. I’ve got to put on my best sleuth act. But I’ll text you later?”

“Yeah. I’m just going over to Lou’s tonight to babysit,” I reply absently. “Let me know what you find out.” She agrees before hanging up, and I set my phone in my lap just as the window of the police car rolls down, the tinted-glass revealing the person in the driver’s seat.

Detective Trudeau stares up at me, his mirrored sunglasses nowhere to be seen. He unerringly finds my face in my window, his expression flat and thoughtful. A few seconds stretch into a minute, and I feel myself getting restless and more than a little nervous.

Why the hell is hehere?

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