Never Lie (6)
A footprint.
I creep over to get a closer look, squinting in the dim lighting. It definitely looks like a footprint. I put my own boot next to the print—whoever made the footprint had feet quite a lot larger than mine. Could it be Ethan’s footprint? It looks about the right size, but I didn’t see him standing over here.
“The garage is empty.” Ethan emerges from a door near the kitchen, brushing what looks like a cobweb off his shoulder. “Judy’s not here.”
I shiver, even with my coat still on. “Hey, come look at this.”
Ethan walks over to me, and I recognize that the two of us are creating new footprints everywhere we go. “What? What’s wrong?”
“Is this a footprint?”
He narrows his eyes at the dust pattern on the floor. “Maybe?”
“So who made it?”
“I don’t know. Judy?”
I raise my eyebrows. “You think Judy wears size ten men’s shoes?”
Ethan lets out a breath, and I swear I can see the puff of air in the frigid living room. “Then maybe it was someone else viewing the house.”
Except there’s no way Judy was showing anyone a house this dusty. My eyes scan the floor, but I don’t see any other footprints as noticeable as these. “When do you think Judy will get here?”
He frowns. “I don’t know if Judy is going to make it, Tricia.”
“She wouldn’t stand us up.”
“Yeah, but there’s a blizzard out there. We barely made it and the snow is just getting worse. Honestly, it was irresponsible of her to even schedule the viewing tonight.”
“So…” I chew on the tip of my thumbnail. “Do you think we could be stuck here? Like, for the night?”
Our heads swivel simultaneously to look over at one of the picture windows. The snow is coming down harder than it’s ever been before. It’s like a wall of white is being dumped from the sky. Our car is probably buried, and it’s not like it was doing so great in the snow before.
“I think we might be,” he says. “But don’t worry. I mean, look at this place—I bet the kitchen is stocked with food. And even if it isn’t, we’ve got that emergency supply kit you make me keep in the trunk. Doesn’t that have a bunch of power bars in it?”
“I… I think so…”
“So let’s go get something to eat.”
Ethan strides purposefully in the direction of the kitchen. I can’t believe he’s not even the slightest bit worried, even though we’re now trapped in this unfamiliar house full of cobwebs and scary footprints. That’s how Ethan is. He’s always so confident. I love that about him.
So I follow my new husband to the kitchen. But the whole time, I can’t shake the horrible feeling that those green eyes in the portrait over the mantle are watching me.
Chapter 3
ADRIENNE
Before
Paige is cursing to herself as she stumbles on a loose brick on the walkway to my front door. I watch her from the window, wondering if I should call someone to get that brick fixed this week. I don’t want somebody to fall on it, shatter their ankle, and then I’m responsible. Legally, that is. If Paige fell, it would be her own fault. She would have far more stability if she weren’t clutching a manila envelope in her right hand and scrolling through the screen on her phone with her left as she teeters in her three-inch heels.
Paige has been my literary agent for the last five years, and I have never seen her without her phone in hand. There’s a possibility it has fused to her palm. I have spoken to her in the past and I swear I’ve heard the shower running in the background. Once, I heard the toilet flush. When we speak, she looks up from the screen to meet my eyes, but only briefly.
Paige tucks the manila envelope under her arm so she can ring the doorbell. It’s unnecessary, given I’ve been monitoring her Audi’s trajectory down my driveway, but she doesn’t know that. Chimes echo through the house, and I take my time heading to the front door. Paige may be in a rush, but I’m not. I’ve got the entire morning free before my first patient arrives.
Paige has her eyes pinned on her phone screen when I crack open the door. Her usually perfectly highlighted hair is slightly windblown from the drive, but she otherwise looks impeccable in a black silk dress and spiky pumps.
“Adrienne!” A smile spreads across my agent’s face at the sight of me, although she still doesn’t put away her phone. “How are you?”
How are you? The three most useless words in the universe of communication. Nobody who asks that question wants to know the answer. And nobody who answers ever tells the truth. “I’m fine, Paige.”
She pauses for a beat, waiting for me to return the nicety. When it is obvious that I’m not going to, she shakes her phone slightly in her left hand. “Sorry I was late. The GPS conked out on my phone. The signal around here is terrible.”
“Yes,” I say sympathetically. “It is.”
I live far enough off the beaten path that most people can’t get a signal out here. Within my house, I have a MicroCell tower and Wi-Fi. But in anticipation of Paige’s visit, I shut them both off. While she is here, I want her full attention. I would never pay more attention to my phone than to a patient, and I don’t enjoy competing for Paige’s attention.