Mallory’s eyes widened as her father turned the corner and guided his Ford Expedition into the driveway of her new home.
“Holy shit, Dad, this is yours?”
“Hey,” Paul Wiess laughed. “Easy on the four letter words around your brother.”
“You’re in trouble!” BJ sang from his booster seat in the back.
“Shut up,” she replied. “Sorry, Dad. Won’t happen again.”
“I hope not.”
“My friends are going to be so jealous, though. Becky’s going to flip when she sees this place.”
“I guess I never really considered that during the selection process.”
The house looked like a castle compared to their old home in the city, and she stared in wonder at the wide front porch, three-car garage, brick outer walls, and multi-gabled rooftop.
“I want to be the first in the pool,” BJ, declared, slurping from a juice box.
Mallory rolled her eyes. “Will you stop saying that already? You’re six; you can’t even swim yet.”
“So?”
“So, I’m sick of hearing about all the things you want to do first in the new house. It’s not like you have to wait in line to get in.”
BJ leaned forward and burped at her.
“Freak,” Mallory snapped.
“Okay, you two,” her dad said, “let’s get your stuff out of the back. We can have lunch before setting up your rooms.”
Mallory exited the vehicle and went to unlatch the cargo door of the U-Haul trailer hitched to the rear of the Ford. “How many bedrooms are there?”
“Four on the second floor, one on the main level, and room for another in the basement if you like. You can take your pick.”
Mallory whistled. “Are you running a hotel here or what?”
Her dad gazed at the building. “I know it’s a bit much for a bachelor. It’s just that, since your mom and I split up, I guess it makes me feel more like… Well, like I’m still part of a family.”
A hint of sadness entered her father’s expression at the mention of her parents’ recent separation, and Mallory realized she’d been skirting the issue during the last three months since the divorce. She knew they should talk about it, that she should tell him she didn’t hold any resentment toward either of them, but on the few occasions when the subject had come up the words knotted in her throat, making it difficult to speak. Switching the subject was so much easier.
Unable to meet the hurt look in her dad’s eyes, she redirected her gaze to where they’d come from. At the crest of the hill, the front yard overlooked the tops of all the other houses, allowing a broad view of the lush country landscape beyond.
Her gaze traveled from the scenery to the house opposite her father’s, where a dark figure stood behind a large window, looking back.
Staring at her.
Mallory turned away. “Take a picture while you’re at it,” she mumbled to herself, wondering if the dude had been eyeballing her butt when she opened the trailer door.
She unloaded several boxes while her dad went to get BJ out of his booster seat, rolling her eyes when she heard the twerp say, “Look, dad, I tied my shoelaces to the door handle.”
Mallory shook her head and made another casual glance toward the house across the street.
The figure hadn’t moved.
She couldn’t make out any details other than a jet-black silhouette, but the size told her the watcher had to be an adult and not some boy checking her out. She knew the person was probably a nosy neighbor simply wanting to get a glimpse of the newcomers, but the idea of being spied on by some guy hiding in the shadows made her shiver. She rejoined her father alongside the car, putting the trailer between her and the stranger.
“Greetings,” a voice called. “This must be the family?”
Mallory turned to see an elderly, white-haired man come out of the garage next door, waving as he approached.
“Morning, Harry,” her dad replied. “Kids, this is Harold Fish, the best neighbor anyone could hope for.”
“I pay him to say that,” the man said with a wink.
Her dad made a round of introductions, mentioning Harry owned the company he worked for, and that’s how he’d found the house.
“You see,” Harry said, “I really do pay him to say that.”
Mallory smiled and shook the man’s eager hand. She listened with interest while he pitched the high-points of the area—the bike trails, the lakes, the surrounding woodland—but chanced glancing over her shoulder once the focus shifted to her brother.
The silhouette remained in the window.
“I won’t be keeping you,” Harry said to her father. “I just wanted to see if you and the kids would join me at church tomorrow? You were busy moving in all your furniture last weekend, so I didn’t ask, but I think you’d enjoy it. I could introduce you to some of the locals. Interested?”
Her dad nodded. “That sounds great.”
“Terrific!”
“Holy shit,” BJ cheered.
Mallory and Harry both broke out in chuckles, while her dad tried to explain the concept of first impressions to her brother.
“Excuse me, Mr. Fish?” Mallory asked, still grinning. “Whose house is that over there?” She gestured across the road, where the sentinel figure remained statuesque behind the glass. “That guy in the window has been watching us ever since we showed up.”
Harry craned his head to look over the Ford, and his face became sober. “That’s Judge Anderson’s place,” he replied. “I don’t believe you’ve met Jerry or his wife yet,” he added, once again speaking to her father. “Nice people, believe me, but they’ve both been acting a little odd lately.”
“How so?” Paul asked.
Harry shrugged. “They just haven’t been very sociable these last few days, that kind of thing. They’re usually pretty outgoing people. I spotted Jerry getting the paper last Wednesday while I was out for my morning walk, and the man looked like he hadn’t slept in a week. We said our hellos and what have you, but it was like I was talking to a stranger.” Harry sighed and shook his head. “I suppose I should’ve pressed him for details right then, but it’s hard to know when to prod into another man’s life. Beatrice, God rest her soul, was always better at that sort of thing than I am. She knew how to talk to people when they needed help working things out. I thought about going over there last night to see how they were, but that thunderstorm rolled in so fast I didn’t have the chance. Tried calling instead, but they wouldn’t pick up.”
As if cued by their conversation, the figure in the window moved out of view. Mallory rubbed her arms, still feeling like she was being spied on despite the man’s absence. She started to follow the others to the house but stopped short when the Andersons’ garage door growled open behind her. She glanced over her shoulder to see a large conversion van back out into the street.
Mallory tried to catch a glimpse of the driver, but the van’s tinted windows obscured her view.
The van’s tires screeched on the pavement as it accelerated away.