Whispers by Erin Quinn Page B

remained on the end of the bed, still focused on the corner. Standing on the mattress, the dog was nearly as tall as Gracie, and she was comforted by that until Juliet’s growl became a snarl full of teeth and menace. What was there? What did Juliet see?
    She waited, watching for something to move. This was ridiculous, a squeaky voice in her head tried to insist. She was alone. Yet, the feeling buzzed through her, undeniable. She thought of earlier that night... the scream that she’d heard muffled by her bath ... the eye staring back from the peephole ... the figure she’d seen under the old eucalyptus tree.
    Slowly, she circled the room, each footstep eclipsed by her own elongated shadow as it crept across the floor and climbed the walls. She approached the corner that Juliet had under surveillance with something akin to terror. But closer inspection revealed dust and nothing else. Still, she felt the invisible eyes stalking her. She shook her head, wordlessly berating her imagination. But imagined or not, the sensation of being hunted felt real. All at once, the hairs at the back of her neck rose, and she pivoted around.
    The corner was no longer empty.
    Juliet’s snarl became a fierce bark as she hurled herself off the bed at the man who’d appeared. In the same instant, Gracie shrieked and tried to run. But her feet tangled in the braided rug and sent her flying into the bed.
    Time seemed to slow to each ticking second. The mattress bounced as she fell on it, Juliet’s nails clicked wildly against the floor as she lunged for the corner, and the man vanished. Gone in the same heartbeat he’d appeared. Gracie stared at the place where he’d been, unable to process what she’d seen, what was no longer there. Juliet was having the same problem. She circled and sniffed in frenzy, whining when she found nothing to explain what had happened.
    In the next instant the bedroom door flew open. Analise rushed in, her long legs bare beneath the pajamas Gracie had packed for her, followed a step later by Reilly. His shirt was off, the top button of his jeans was undone, and his feet were bare.
    “ What happened?” he said at the same time that Analise asked, “Are you okay?”
    Gracie couldn’t catch her breath, let alone answer. She stared at the corner. There was nothing—no one—there now. But there had been. A man. She’d seen him as clearly as she saw the alarmed pair standing in front of her. At the doorway, Chloe and her two disciples gathered with curiosity. Chloe moved to the front, Bill Barnes on her heels. The turban was gone and her white hair stuck up in thin, frizzy tufts. Gracie tacked on ten years to her previous estimate of Chloe’s age.
    “ Mom?” Analise asked, staring at Bill and Chloe with wide eyes. Her shock was no wonder since they’d been upstairs by the time Analise arrived at the house, and no one had bothered to warn her about them.
    The fear in Analise’s voice brought Gracie back from the edge of her own terror. She looked at the frightened face of her daughter and found her voice. “I’m fine. I tripped on the rug and fell,” she said.
    “ He was here,” Chloe said, and Gracie could swear she heard fear in her voice.
    “ Who was here?” Analise asked.
    Gracie gave Chloe a pointed look. “Could you excuse us, please?”
    Chloe nodded, but she stayed where she was, the yearning to enter too strong to deny. And yet she was afraid. Gracie knew it. Bill pulled her away and guided her and the priest back down the hall. She heard Zach’s voice as they met him on the way and Bill telling him to go back to bed.
    Gracie tried to smile at her daughter. “Everything’s okay,” she said. “Those people are Grandma Beck’s boarders. You don’t have to worry about them.”
    Analise looked back and forth between the bed, the corner of the room, and the open door.
    “ Go back to sleep, honey. I’m sorry I shouted—it’s been such a long day I guess my nerves are shot.” Analise