Page 121 of Call Off the Dark

Agnes regretted leaving the day before. Helen had been upset, screaming at her to go away, but regardless, Agnes never should have.

In high school, Agnes hadn’t made friends easily. She’d had two friends, to be exact, and one of them had moved to California after graduation and the other was in prison for selling weed illegally. Sometimes Agnes didn’t know what to do or what to say in difficult situations. She didn’t have a lot of practice around people.

She believed Helen was in danger though. Agnes had read those articles about the farm accident, which meant the visitor at Helen’s house was a dead man. On one hand, the idea sounded crazy, but Agnes had lived her life in the middle of nowhere among superstition and bad omens and religious conviction. Her neighbor claimed a possessed black cat tried to rip his throat out. A kid down the road saw demons in the barn. Pretty much everyone said the old Victorian-style house that burned down in third grade happened because a local witch put a spell on it. In some ways, she had been waiting twenty years to see proof of the underworld.

Or maybe it was nothing of the sort. Maybe Helen’s visitor was a real, live man just pretending to be a dead man.

Neither option was good though. Whatever was happening at the house, it was unsafe and it was scaring Helen to the point that she wasn’t even acting like herself.

Agnes was scared too, but she needed to go back. She needed to talk Helen into leaving. Otherwise, she was no friend at all.

Maybe a real friend wouldn’t even wait until this afternoon. Maybe a real friend would go there right now. It was early, so Helen’s husband might still be at the house with the brother in question, but Agnes could drive far enough down the driveway to see if she spotted his truck. She could idle in the trees and back out if she saw any signs the men were there.

Yes, that’s what she’d do. She had to try.

Agnes slowed and turned onto a road that would take her by the entrance to Helen’s property. Her heart was already beginning to beat faster. She told herself to stay calm.

Up ahead on the road, she saw a shape on the shoulder. She let off the gas, and as she got closer, she realized it was a person.

The woman lifted her thumb in the air.

A hitchhiker.

Agnes braked and her mouth parted in surprise.

Her eyes went shiny as she saw the woman’s face.

Chapter Fifty-Two

The old Dodge Dart rolled to a stop on the road. Through the dirty glass of the passenger window, Helen saw Agnes staring at her, wide-eyed.

Helen laughed.

Agnes leaned across the seat and unlocked the passenger-side door’s manual lock. Nothing in the old Dart was automatic other than the music player Agnes had installed herself.

Helen climbed inside and all the two women could manage at first were greetings of hello, said with mutual surprise and relief and fondness in their voices.

In the rearview mirror, Agnes saw a truck coming up behind her, so she put it back into drive and asked, “Why are you hitchhiking?”

“To get into town to use a phone. I’m going back to Seattle.”

“Oh my God!” Agnes said. “That’s where I’m going today!”

“I guess I’m going with you then.” Helen put her bag and record player in the back seat.

“Thank God,” Agnes said, and they both started to laugh again.

“I read the articles,” Helen said. “Thank you.”

“I was just coming by to check on you. I’m sorry—”

“No, I’m sorry I yelled at you—”

“No!”

“I mean it!”

“It’s fine!”