"I was surprised to see you at Chelsea's today," Tom commented as he walked with Veronica down Ravine Forest Drive. "I didn't know you two were friends."
"We work together and she invited me over since her husband had to work," Veronica explained. "You aren't getting off the hook that easily, Tom. I'd like to know more about what happened to Mary Austin."
"We really shouldn't have said anything," Tom said."I'm sorry, Veronica. I guess Chelsea and I are so used to the history of Schuyler Square that we forget not everyone knows it. Didn't you hear about the Austin murder after you moved?"
"I didn't subscribe to the Schuyler Times after I left," Veronica replied. "And I never dreamed I'd be back."
They reached the house Veronica was renting and both Veronica and Tom stopped walking. The cottage looked lovely in the early evening light, like something out of a Thomas Kincade painting. "It's pretty, isn't it?" Veronica asked.
"Very nice." Tom had always liked the small house on the edge of town and he'd really liked the marble mural Mary Austin had created behind it. But ever since Mary had been murdered Tom, like most people in Schuyler Square, had avoided the cottage. He was surprised that the Schuyler's still owned the house and even more surprised that Ron had rented it to his former mistress. Of course, that was like Ron to take advantage of any situation in any way that he possibly could.
"I don't suppose you'd like to come in for a cup of coffee or a drink?" Veronica offered. "I know I sound like a big ol' baby pants but my son is working tonight and I really don't want to go inside by myself."
"I'd love a cup of coffee," Tom assured her. They walked up the brick path that led to the door and Tom waited while Veronica unlocked the front door. A sense of uneasiness touched him, a small poke of apprehension between his shoulder blades but Tom forced himself to man up and ignore it. What had happened to Mary Austin was almost ancient history and certainly nothing to be afraid of. He followed Veronica inside, looking around with interest. He hadn't been inside the cottage for years.
Veronica walked around the room, snapping on all of the lights. She had painted the living room a soft yellow and the room seemed to glow. "I think it's going to rain," she said. "The air feels all prickly."
"I know what you mean. Charged. Like there's electricity in the air." So Veronica felt it too.
"I'll make some coffee," Veronica said and then stopped in front of the fireplace and stared down at the floor. "It happened right here, didn't it?"
Tom covered the few steps between them and pulled Veronica close to him. "It was awful, Veronica, but it didn't happen to you. Try not to think about it."
"I can't seem to stop," Veronica said against his shoulder. "This rooms seems different to me now. It seems...almost dangerous."
"It's the same room it was an hour ago."
"You're right and I'm being silly but it still creeps me out." Veronica's cell phone rang. Pulling it out of her pocket, she glanced at the caller i.d. "It's my son. Excuse me."
Tom went to the fireplace and began to lay the wood for a fire. As he put a match to the kindling, it occurred to him that he was kneeling in the precise spot where Mary's body had been discovered. Tom pushed the thought out of his head. He was going to spook himself too.
"Great," Veronica said as she put her phone away. "That was Kirk. He wanted to let me know that he's going to Chicago for the weekend and he's found an apartment. How's that for bad timing?"
"Veronica, would you stop already? I'm telling you that this house isn't haunted."
A horrific noise cut Tom off and the lights went out, plunging them into the darkness. Veronica screamed as Tom leaped to his feet. What was going on?
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