The Dirt on Ninth Grave(89)

She found her phone and called her husband. We heard sirens in the distance. She didn't tell him what had happened. She just told him to bring Hannah home. It was safe.



"That's so weird," I said, turning to Erin when she hung up. "We keep having the strangest earthquakes." Though this one I was pretty sure was caused by Delbert.



"You're bleeding," she said.



"Oh, shit." I'd left a large puddle of blood on her carpet. "I'm so sorry," I said, lifting my foot and bouncing to the doorway.



"Wait. In here." She led me to a bathroom down the hall.



I kept my foot in the sink as Erin ran to the door to greet her family. When a police cruiser rolled up, Billy dealt with them  –  while I prayed Mable hadn't reported the car stolen  –  and Erin saw to the gaping hole in my foot. I sat on her bathroom counter gazing at Hannah as she slept in a basket beside me.



"She's so beautiful."



Erin nodded, then poured more peroxide on my foot. I got the feeling she enjoyed that part.



"Are you okay, hon?"



She nodded again, her lips pressed together as though she were trying desperately to keep calm. She shook worse than I did, though, and I realized she'd been traumatized. Thank God she didn't see Delbert. She'd be in therapy for years.



"Erin," I said, ducking my head to meet her tear-filled gaze, "she saved you from him. Your great-aunt Novalee. She saved you and your mom and your aunt."



Her expression showed both surprise and understanding. When she could finally talk, she said, "I've always felt a connection with her. Like I knew she was watching out for me." 



"Now you know why. And I think she'll be around for a long time to come."



"I hope so," she said, looking around as though trying to talk to Novalee.



The elderly woman heard her. She was standing right beside me, gazing lovingly at Hannah. "I'm sorry about stealing your extra shifts at work," I said.



She shook her head and drew in a cleansing breath. "You were right. I could never have kept it up. Not working that much with a baby. Billy's great, though."



"I agree. And he looks fantastic in a towel."



"Right?" she said with a soft giggle.



"Erin, you don't need more hours at work. You're an incredible artist. You need to go back to school. Become a graphic designer or an interior decorator. Your house is amazing." I scanned the area. "Or, you know, it used to be."



"If you hadn't come when you did … " Unable to hold her emotions back any longer, she broke down. Her shoulders shook.



I put a hand on her arm, and she tackle-hugged me, almost knocking me off the counter. I held her tight, struggling with the whole thing myself. Her emotions were overwhelming, and I couldn't tell where hers stopped and mine began.



"I'm just glad I got here in time."



"Me, too."



We stood like that while Erin grasped at the tattered edges of her composure. After several long moments, she hiccupped and asked, "When did you see Billy in a towel?"





18





If only one of my personalities liked to clean house.

-T-SHIRT



There was nothing like a wrecked house and a poltergeist to rob a girl of a good night's sleep. In lieu of draping my body across Denzel, chasing rest I knew I'd never get, I cleaned. Swept. Scooped. I didn't have that much furniture to begin with. Now my apartment was downright pathetic. And I needed a new glass.



When I'd done the best I could, I showered and retaped my foot. It was still early, like dark-out early, but I decided Reyes needed coffee, and I needed Reyes. I stole Mable's car again and hit the local twenty-four-hour convenience store.



Osh was there in his signature top hat, buying several packages of extra-large condoms. He gave me a conspiratorial wink. I tried not to snort, though I didn't doubt he had no problems with the ladies. The kid was pretty. Those dimples and shimmering bronze eyes were going to get him into trouble.



When I got to Reyes's motel, his windows were dark. I parked and walked to his door. Holding two giant cups of the good stuff, I knocked softly. If he really was sound asleep, I didn't want to disturb him. The door opened almost immediately, and a groggy, gorgeous specimen of a man in desperate need of a shave and sporting hooded lids and mussed hair answered. Also, he was shirtless.



I gave him a sheepish smile. "Were you awake?"



He opened the door farther in a silent invitation.



"Do you look this good when you wake up every morning?" I asked as I stepped into the warm room. "I look like I died in my sleep."



He closed the door and took the coffee I handed him. "I'm glad you didn't."