The Good Girl. Christy Barritt
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underneath his smooth exterior. He liked to jump around from job to job, from commitment to commitment. That should have given me a clue.
No one ever thought that I would get divorced. I had a good head on my shoulders and a bright future ahead. Peter fit right into that future, and everyone said we made the perfect couple.
I dropped a yellow piece of the flower to the floor. “He loves me not.”
Then life had fallen apart. Until then, I’d always considered myself a little better than everyone else—the rule breakers. No, I never told them they were sinners or that they should have tried harder to do right. I never told them they were living halfheartedly with one foot on both sides of the fence. But in the secret room of my mind, I’d thought it. I knew God loved me just a little more because I followed all the rules. I was a good girl.
I rubbed the velvety flower between my fingers. “He loves me.”
Now I knew what people thought of me. I knew they thought they were just a little better than I was.
I guessed they were, and I guessed I deserved every one of their judgmental thoughts. I dropped the final petal. “He loves me not.”
No, I wasn’t talking about Peter’s love.
I was talking about God’s.
~*~
The living room at the front of the house had no curtains, just unadorned windows that exposed my train-wreck-in-progress life for all to see. I felt like a goldfish with no place to hide in my fish bowl, a feeling that should be familiar given that my dad was a pastor.
As evening fell, I turned my thoughts to those windows. I should put some sheets across them. Even the thought of getting that close to the glass, of not knowing what lurked in the darkness on the other side of those panes, made my breathing shallow. Visions from the slasher movie Friday the 13th, the scene where the killer had jumped through the window at the end, wouldn’t leave my thoughts. It had been my sister’s idea to watch the movie and now, fourteen years later, I still couldn’t get it out of my mind.
Then again, maybe it wasn’t what was on the outside of my windows I should be worried about. Maybe it was the ghost living inside these walls.
I rolled my eyes. Ghosts were for people who believed in hocus-pocus. Not me.
Still, a cold shiver breezed down my arm, and I swallowed, imagining an invisible being watching my every move, prickling my skin with its presence.
Had someone really died in the house? If so, how? What was it that Lana had said? They were murdered?
I shuddered and pictured a woman sleeping in bed at night, waking to find a man standing over her. Before she can react, he’s strangling her. Panic rips through the woman. She gasps for breath but finds none. Worst yet, she recognizes the man. She knows her killer—
Pounding sounded in the distance. The woman! She’d come back to find the person who took her life. I shrieked and jumped behind the doorframe.
“Tara? It’s me. Cooper.”
Slowly, my grip loosened from the molding around the door. I straightened, feeling foolish.
Of course it was someone knocking on the door, not a spirit from the afterlife. What was wrong with me?
I brushed my hair out of my eyes and gathered my wits. The floor squeaked as I went to let Cooper inside. When I pulled the door open, my neighbor stood there with twinkling eyes.
“Everything okay?” He leaned against the door with his arms crossed, looking at me as if I belonged in a loony bin. Maybe I did.
“Everything’s just fine.”
“I hope I didn’t scare you.”
“Scare me? Why would you think that?”
“I thought I heard a scream.”
“Interesting.” I gulped and opened the door wider. “Would you like to come in?”
He stepped into the house, his gaze scanning the living room as if he thought I really did have a stash of guys hiding somewhere, just waiting to sneak out past midnight. “I thought, just to be safe, that I’d come and check things out while my son is playing with the neighbor across the street.” He shrugged, his eyes back on me. “You know, with everything that’s happened and all.”
“Feel free.”
He began walking the perimeter of the house, checking to make sure the windows were latched and the doors locked properly. “You use these deadbolts at night, correct?”
“I wouldn’t dream of doing otherwise.”
He examined one. “They look sturdy. A criminal would have a hard time getting past one of these.” He continued on. “You might want to consider trimming the hedges in front of the house.”
“I was thinking about tearing them out.” I had to do something to occupy myself while I was here, and re-doing Lana’s flowerbeds just might to do the trick.
He sent me a glance over his shoulder. “Not a bad idea. It also keeps varmints away from your house. Mind if I check out the basement?”
“Be my guest.”
He thumped down the steep steps and ducked his head to avoid hitting it against the low overhang. I followed behind, dreading the voyage down. What was it about basements that were so spooky? The dim lighting, the low ceilings, the various nooks and hiding places, all made my imagination race. I could already feel hands reaching for my ankles as I crept downward. I could picture a madman jumping out as I opened a storage door. I could smell the decay of rotting flesh buried behind a hidden plank.
A shrill scream rang out. I thought of a demon escaping from hell and shrieked myself. Then I realized it was just Cooper opening a window. He raised an eyebrow.
“You’re kind of on edge tonight, huh?” The hinges of the narrow window screamed again as Cooper pulled against them.
“You could say that.” I covered my warm cheeks with my fingers. I remained where I was while he checked the rest of the basement. I pinched the bridge of my nose, forcing my lungs to expand and deflate evenly.
Cooper approached after jiggling the last window. “Everything looks safe. There are a few extra things you could do for security measures, though.”
I moved my hands away from my face and raised my chin, determined to appear normal. I cleared my throat. “Such as?”
“You could get an outside motion-activated light.” He started back upstairs and I followed. “You could also get window film to put over the glass. It makes it difficult for intruders to break the glass.”
“I’ve never heard of it.”
He paused at the top. “Of course, your biggest alert system is going to be this floor. You can’t take a step on it without being heard.”
“That’s both comforting and disturbing.”
Cooper turned to face me. “You going to be okay?”
Instead of pouring out all my nighttime fears, I nodded. “I’ve got squeaky floors. What more could I ask for?”
“Look, I don’t know who that was walking off your porch last night. I wouldn’t lose too much sleep over it. Besides, if you need anything, I’m right next door.” He handed me a business card. “Or you could just call me.”
“Thanks for everything, Cooper.”
He smiled, and wrinkles creased the corners of his eyes. “I’ll see you later, Tara.”
The smile faded from my lips the moment the door shut and Cooper was gone. Silence surrounded me, and the bare windows stared at me like a peeping Tom. I took a step toward the couch and the floor groaned.
My pace quickened and I dove for the