Page 19 of Sinister Secrets

“Hi, Jeffery,” I say, smiling. “I was wondering if we could talk a bit about what happened yesterday?”

When he doesn’t respond, I shift my gaze to Lucy.

“He hasn’t said much about it. I think he still expects to get in trouble.”

Keeping my voice as soft as possible, I say, “Well, I can understand that, because you scared your mommy very, very much. But I think she’s happy enough to have you home that you don’t have to worry about that.”

“That’s right, honey. As long as you promise to never, ever do anything like that again.”

He moves the cookie away from his mouth long enough to give an exaggerated nod.

“Jeffery, I was hoping you could tell me what made you get out of bed and go outside last night. Did you hear something?”

His head tips just enough to let me know that he had.

“And you saw something?”

This time he nods.

“Can you tell me what?”

He darts a quick peek at his mom before leaning just the slightest bit toward me and whispering, “A ghost.”

Lucy and I exchange looks.

“A ghost?” I ask.

Another nod.

“Have you seen the ghost before?”

This time it’s a shake.

“How’d you know what it was?”

“I heard the older kids talking about it.”

“That must have been really scary. You’re a very brave boy, Jeffery. I’ve never seen a ghost before. Can you tell me what it looked like?”

His mouth opens, but then he changes his mind, dropping the remains of his cookie as he curls up on his mother’s lap, burying his head in her chest.

“I’m sorry,” Lucy says.

“No, I am. It’s too soon. I didn’t mean to upset him.” Tears well in my eyes as the muffled sound of his sobs reaches my ears. I stand, knowing I need to retreat before I make this worse. “I’ll show myself out. But if he tells you anything that might be important, or if you just want to talk and catch up… if you need anything at all…”

Removing a card from my pocket, I set it on the table and head for the door.

“Cassidy?”

Stopping at the threshold to the living room, I turn back.

“We’ll be safe here, won’t we?”

Giving her what I hope is a reassuring smile, I say, “Of course.”

Then I hurry from the house in case I burst into flames with the lie. Because while I would assume the killer would be too smart to risk returning, there are no guarantees when it comes to human behavior.

There’s only one thing I know at this point—I don’t believe in ghosts. Which means the threat is real. And still out there, somewhere.