Chapter Five
Jessica scanned the area surrounding the empty house for a bike or other signs of children at play but came up empty. Aside from the boy she’d seen in the window, no evidence of life existed at the place.
She trekked carefully through the overgrown grass and made her way to the front door to try the knob. Locked. Surely the child didn’t climb through the broken window?
Chewing on the inside of her mouth, Jessica decided she’d skirt the house and try the back door.
She spun around and nearly ran into a thick, balding man standing directly behind her.
“Jesus!” She stumbled back a step, her hand flying to her chest. “You startled me.”
When the man simply stood there watching her with a pair of hawk-like eyes, Jessica inched back another step. “You must be one of my neighbors. I just moved in next door.”
“You’re trespassing,” was his only response.
More than a little uncomfortable under his scrutiny, Jessica fidgeted with the collar of her shirt. “I’m sorry. I had no idea this was private property. I’ll just be going then.”
Without bothering to move back and allow her to pass, he folded his arms over his thick chest, drawing attention to a greasy food stain on his white T-shirt.
Jessica’s heart began to pound. She’d never been so uncomfortable in all her life. He reminded her of a wife-beating psychopath she’d seen in a movie, some years ago.
“Eustis!” a woman called from the red-brick house to their left. “Where are you?”
The man’s already ruddy face turned nearly purple with obvious rage. He flicked a glance in the direction the voice had come from and then spun on his heel and marched off.
More than a little anxious to be gone, Jessica hurried across the overgrown lawn, not stopping until she reached the protection of the oak trees in her own front yard.
She peered over her shoulder in time to watch the creepy balding man disappear inside the red-brick house.
* * * *
The rest of the day was spent in a flurry of unloading and unpacking. Yet, no matter how busy Jessica became, she couldn’t shake the eerie feeling the creepy neighbor had left her with.
The sound of a door slamming startled her. She glanced up to find Owen watching her with a strange look in his eyes.
“What?” she softly questioned, straightening from her task of emptying a box of dishes.
He shook his head. “Nothing. Just appreciating your natural beauty.”
“Is that a subtle way of pointing out that I have no make-up on?” Jess forced a smile to ensure he knew her to be teasing.
Owen grinned in return. “Now that you mention it…”
She cleared her throat. “It’s getting late. Perhaps we should get cleaned up and go in search of a place to eat.”
“Have you had a chance to taste that casserole?” Owen stepped down into the kitchen and peeled back the foil covering the glass dish. “It looks delicious.”
It smelled delicious too, Jessica noticed. She opened a box of plates and handed two of them to Owen. “Grab a spoon from that drawer to your left and dip us up some.”
Owen heaped their plates high with the heavenly smelling food and passed one, along with a fork, to Jess. The two of them took a seat on a couple of still-packed boxes and devoured every last drop of Marge’s casserole.
“I saw that you met another of our neighbors in front of that old, abandoned house.” Owen got to his feet and rinsed his plate in the sink.
Jess followed suit. “I wouldn’t go so far as to say we met.”
“What do you mean?”
With a shrug, she loaded both their plates into the dishwasher. “He scared the crap out of me and then proceeded to inform me that I was trespassing.”
Owen’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”
“Really. I never even got his name. Plus, there were no signs posted or anything. He probably would have had the bloody runs if he’d seen the kid inside the house.”
“What kid?”
Thinking about the small face staring down at her from that dirty window, Jessica shook her head. “I don’t know. Just some boy I saw in the upstairs window.”
Owen brought his hand up and massaged the back of his neck. “Well, hopefully he made it out of there with his hide intact.”
“Yeah, maybe so.” Rinsing out the empty casserole dish, Jess loaded it into the dishwasher and then stepped up into the dining room. “I’m going to take a shower. I’ll make the bed as soon as I get out.”
“Sounds good.”
Jessica spent the next twenty minutes enjoying her shower, her mind processing everything that had happened since her arrival in Sparkleberry Hills. But nothing stood out as much as that old house sharing the cul-de-sac with her or the little boy staring down at her from that window. He’d reminded her of Jacob.
She frantically scrubbed at her scalp in an effort to push thoughts of Jacob from her mind. Without the medication to dull her senses, the pain of his passing was as fresh as if it had happened yesterday.
Her psychiatrist has begun weaning her off the pills the week after her last visit with Dr. Knox—the day Owen had dropped the mother of all bombs on her…his job transfer.
Jessica had fought Owen at every turn, refusing to leave the home Jacob had lived in since birth. But she’d eventually given in. Deep down, she’d known her husband to be right, she would have never been able to get on with her life as long as she remained in that house.
Practicing the breathing exercises Doctor Knox had taught her, Jessica took slow, calculated breaths through her nose, exhaling in the same calming manner from her mouth. She concentrated on the task of washing her hair until the overwhelming feeling began to pass.
“Save me some hot water,” Owen playfully demanded, opening the bathroom door. “I feel like I’ve wallowed in a cesspool of sweat.”
Jess pasted on a small smile, pulled the curtain back, and poked her head out. “I’m almost done.”
“Mind if I join you?”
And just like that, the anxiety was back.
If she allowed Owen into that shower with her, he would want sex. Of that, she had no doubt. He was a healthy, thirty-eight-year-old man who hadn’t been with his wife in more than three years.
Jessica stared at his handsome face, the hopeful expression in his eyes, and her heart cracked. What was it about intimacy that terrified her so?
Doctor Knox had theorized that intimacy represented fear to Jessica. It required her opening her heart and emotions to another person; something she hadn’t been able to do since Jacob’s death.
How could she participate in something meant to be pleasurable when her only child lay in a cold, dark grave? “I’m sorry, Owen. I’ll be done in just a minute.”
Disappointment shone in his eyes, but he didn’t argue. He simply closed the door as quietly as he’d opened it.