Taking an extra-long time in the shower so the hot water could penetrate her sore muscles and wash away the memories of last night, she slowly considered what her next move would be.
She’d need some boxes. Maybe a suitcase. She could head over to the town of Ryder Creek and see if they had any apartments for rent. Maybe see about getting a job waitressing or something. Anything was good enough for now, as long as it kept her alive.
When the water went cold, she wrapped a towel around her body and brushed out her hair, scowling at the damn bruise muddling her face. That would be the last time. She was so sick of buying makeup to cover up his mistakes. No one would hire someone with trouble marked all over their face like that.
“Asshole,” she mumbled, opening the medicine cabinet and shutting it after she grabbed her toothbrush.
She gasped and spun around. For a second she thought she saw her dad, but he wasn’t home. The house was empty and she was losing her mind.
She threw on comfy sweats, wool boots, and an old sweater, then got to packing. A tow truck was already on its way to retrieve her car. She told the mechanic to let her know right away if there was any damage from the accident.
On her third trip through the hall to stack another bag of clothes by the front door, she paused, a strange sensation creeping over her. She wasn’t usually this jumpy.
Heading back to her room, her steps slowed at the edge of the hallway. Her dad’s bedroom door was open. He never left it open. She wanted to shut it so he wouldn’t blame her for snooping, but that was stupid. She was leaving and wouldn’t be there when he got home. He could blame someone else for a change.
Darting past the door, she dashed into her bedroom only to hesitate before closing her door. She backtracked into the hall and paused, a chill trembling up her spine as if the empty house mocked her for being such a coward. She wasn’t a child, but sometimes her childhood fears still taunted her.
Taking a deep breath, she stiffened her shoulders and marched back to her father’s bedroom to shut the stupid door. The pungent scent of aftershave and stale cigarette smoke lingered in the air like a poison she hated to breathe. She grabbed the knob to his door and—
She stilled, releasing the knob and pressing her hand into the wood. The hinges creaked as the door glided fully open. “Dad?”
Her fingers rushed to her mouth and she backed out of the room, running to her purse where she’d left her cell.
Her fingers shook as she dialed her brother. “Come on, Harrison, pick up.”
She dialed again when the call dumped into voicemail. And a third time, when he still didn’t answer.
His gruff voice sounded half asleep when he answered. “Hello?”
“Harrison?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s Erin.”
He sighed as if the mere reminder of her existence was an inconvenience for him. “What did he do now?”
She swallowed tightly, the walls closing in around her as her vision blurred with building tears of panic. “He died.”
CHAPTER 10
News traveled fast in Jasper Falls. Erin called the coroner, but couldn’t bring herself to wait inside the house with the body, so she was back to standing in the snow and shivering in the cold. Unable to stomach the stillness, she shoveled the walk, refusing any thought that tried to intrude the hollows of her mind.
She couldn’t think beyond the next step. Couldn’t comprehend the changes to come or the responsibilities that she would now shoulder. So she shoveled, the scrape of metal over cement a soothing glide that wiped her mind clear.
When the coroner arrived, neighbors crept onto their porches and stared. Sad smiles watched her, waving at her, despite never having lifted a hand in her direction before. But they loved Ward.
“Your daddy always had the best crumb cake,” Mrs. Spencer said, staring at the house as she walked her old chocolate lab, Gus. “You let me know if you need anything, sweetie.”
Erin didn’t know how to respond. She didn’t know Mrs. Spencer, despite being her neighbor for all these years. She didn’t realize the woman knew her dad. But then again, she didn’t. None of them really knew Ward Montgomery.
When Erin watched them wheel that black body bag out of the house, she only felt numb. No relief. No sadness. Nothing.
When the van left, the house was empty, yet she still felt his presence. It was in the scent of his aftershave and cigarettes clinging to the air, in the half-eaten meatloaf in the fridge, on his chair they weren’t allowed to touch, scribbled on the note above the thermostat that said not to lower the temperature below seventy-two. He was everywhere and she couldn’t stand to be near him, yet she didn’t have anywhere else to go so she returned to the porch, sat on the cold front step, and held her shovel, too numb to feel the chill.