The basement door unlocked with a rusty squeak, as if it hadn’t been used in a long time. Jenny pushed the door inward.
The inside of the basement was a deep gloom. Jenny found the panel of light switches on the wall and flicked each one, but none of them seemed to do anything. It seemed like all the bulbs were burned out, or maybe the fuse.
“Damn it,” Jenny whispered. She would have to find her way in the dark.
Jenny made her way deeper into the basement, her eyes slowly adjusting to the gloom. She tripped over something and sprawled face first, banging her chin on the concrete. She cried out, then looked back to see what had tripped her.
A pink Barbie roller skate, the right size for an eight-year-old girl, trundled across the basement and came to rest against a Christmas tree stand.
Even when dead, Ashleigh was still giving her problems.
Jenny pushed up to her feet and groped forward in the dark, sliding her sneakers along the floor so nothing else could trip her up.
Overhead, she heard footsteps in the house. That must be Maybelle, she thought.
Jenny found her way to the stairs, which were made of unstained boards. She crawled up them on hands and knees, since she could barely see anything more than a few inches ahead of her.
She pushed open the door at the top of the steps.
Immediately, a snarling, furry face filled her range of vision. Maybelle. The Welsh Corgi's mouth opened and closed, but only a hoarse rasping sound came out.
“Hi, Maybelle.” Jenny stood up quickly, and the dog backed off a few steps. Maybelle kept up her pathetic attempts at barking as Jenny stepped into the front hall, closed the door, and found her way to the kitchen.
“Look, I'm here to feed you. Stop freaking out,” Jenny said. The dog's debarked voice bothered her more than actual barking would have.
Jenny opened the pantry and found the thirty-pound bag of dry dog food, and then she found the dog dishes in the laundry room. When she reached for the empty food bowl, Maybelle let out a strangled growl and nipped at Jenny's hand, puncturing her thin summer glove and drawing blood.
“Bitch!” Jenny yelled, but she already felt sorry for the dog. The brief contact, and the slight taste of Jenny's blood, had opened sores along Maybelle's snout. “Aw, crap. I'm sorry, puppy.”
Maybelle scampered away, trying to whimper, and hid herself elsewhere in the house.
“Good girl,” Jenny said. “Stay away from me.”
She dipped the food bowl into the bag and scooped out a heaping mound so she wouldn't need to come back soon. Jenny left the door to the pantry open, too, so Maybelle could get into the big bag if she needed to. Jenny certainly didn't intend to come back—let Darcy check on the dog Monday, and clean up any dog poo on the floor. Ashleigh's house creeped Jenny out.
Jenny glanced into the front parlor, where Maybelle was hiding with her head under a couch, her rump sticking out. The pristine white carpet was already stained with a couple of yellow urine splotches and a pile of dog crap.
Something about the house seemed wrong to Jenny. Everything was put away and cleaned off. There wasn't any dust anywhere, and she could still see vacuum cleaner tracks in the carpet.
Presumably, Dr. and Mrs. Goodling had rushed off to the town square to see about their daughter, who had supposedly been assaulted by Seth. The house looked neatly squared away, though, not one thing left out. Maybe Darcy was keeping up the house, she thought.
Then she remembered one more thing. Last time she'd been here, Ashleigh's Jeep was parked in the driveway, and Ashleigh herself was just a little pile of diseased and broken bones on the front walk.
Today, Ashleigh's Jeep hadn't been there. Jenny's car was the only one in the driveway.
Jenny decided to check the refrigerator, because if the house had really been abandoned for two months, the fridge should be full of mold and rotten food.
She looked inside. Everything seemed new and fresh—the Piggy Wiggly brand milk didn't expire for another week.
“Shit,” Jenny whispered as she closed the refrigerator door. Someone was living here.
She immediately thought of the gray-eyed boy who'd given her and Seth an evening of intense waking nightmares. Ashleigh's opposite. What if he'd never left town? What if he was still here, spying on them? She'd certainly felt like someone was watching her, ever since she stepped out of her car.
For all she knew, there was a big black motorcycle in the garage. Maybe the Jeep was in there, too, or maybe he'd sold it for quick cash.
Maybe she wasn't alone in the house.
In another room, something crashed to the floor. Maybe the dog had knocked something over. Or maybe not.
Jenny swore again as she ran for the basement door, instinctively going back the way she’d come. She took them as fast as she dared in the dark, then ran through the basement and out the door. She closed it behind her, but she didn't bother taking time to lock it.