Free The Drifter by Richie Tankersley Cusick Page B

was staring at her. Even Nora, who had managed to slip back into the kitchen and was now lurking in a corner near the window.
    â€œDaydreaming again,” Mom teased, and Joss smiled, flashing perfect white teeth. “I said when Joss is finished, why don’t you take him upstairs and let him have his pick of the rooms.”
    Carolyn nodded and pushed back from the table, hardly aware that Mom was still talking.
    â€œI’m afraid they’re all rather musty and damp. We only moved in yesterday, like I said, and we really weren’t even planning on opening for another—”
    â€œI’d like a front view,” Joss broke in. “Is that possible?”
    Mrs. Baxter nodded. “Of course. The room right across from Carolyn.”
    Again Joss’s eyes slid smoothly to Carolyn’s face, and for one crazy second she had the weirdest feeling that he already knew where her room was.
    He smiled. “Perfect.”
    â€œSo in case you need anything—” Mrs. Baxter began, and Joss leaned forward, nodding.
    â€œYes. In case I need anything, I’ll have Carolyn.”
    Carolyn stared at him. Then she looked at her mother, but Mrs. Baxter was leaning back in her chair now, going on as though she’d known Joss for years. She glanced at Nora, but the housekeeper was gazing out the window and seemed strangely removed from both kitchen and conversation. Mrs. Baxter patted Carolyn’s arm and motioned her to get up.
    â€œWhy don’t you go on upstairs? There’re fresh sheets and blankets in that closet outside the bathroom. Joss, I’ll turn you over to Carolyn, but promise you’ll let us know if there’s anything else we can do for you.”
    He didn’t say anything as Carolyn led him to the second floor. They moved together through the murky halls, and Joss paused in each doorway, looking in, nodding to himself. The rooms felt clammy and chilled. As they passed Carolyn’s, Joss stopped. For a long moment he gazed in, then finally he looked at her.
    â€œSomething happened in this house,” he said.
    Carolyn stiffened slightly. She gave what she hoped was a casual nod. “It’s an old house. I imagine lots of things happened here.”
    â€œI mean something sad. Something … tragic.”
    Carolyn shrugged. “Well … Hazel died, of course—she’s the one who used to live—”
    â€œNo,” he said softly. “Not Hazel. And besides, your mother already told me she didn’t die in the house.”
    Carolyn kept her eyes on the floor. “I don’t know what you mean.”
    She could feel him staring at her. She could feel herself getting nervous and flustered, and she struggled to keep her face expressionless.
    â€œIt’s a feeling I get,” he murmured. “About houses. They’re a lot like people, really. They have emotions. They have secrets.”
    She still didn’t raise her eyes.
    â€œI’ve heard stories about the house,” she mumbled at last. “But I don’t know how true they are.”
    â€œWell,” he said softly. “Maybe we’ll find out.”
    He moved away from her, catlike footsteps fading down the corridor.
    â€œAh,” she heard him say, “the way to the widow’s walk.”
    Carolyn’s head came up. She turned to see him standing beside the attic door.
    â€œHow did you know that?” she demanded.
    â€œLots of old houses were built this way,” Joss said calmly.
    â€œIt doesn’t have a key.”
    â€œGood. We wouldn’t want anyone getting hurt. It looked like it was in pretty bad shape from outside.”
    Carolyn said nothing. He walked back toward her, and she instinctively stepped out of his way.
    â€œThe room over there,” Joss announced and pointed to the door across from hers. “Is that mine? You don’t have to bother with the bed—I can make it up myself.”
    Carolyn