Page 32 of You'll Be Sorry

She squatted beside him, peering into the overgrowth herself. The glow of the moon cast a silvery sheen, throwing the bare-limbed maples, bushy white pines, and full-skirted hemlocks into shadowy relief. She could make out a towering row of silhouettes here, a rounded clump of darkness there. Basically, she couldn’t see a thing.

The dog, however, leaned forward and uttered a low woof that startled her. He pressed against the less-than-secure railing, muscles taut.

Was there something out there? Someone watching, just waiting to make his approach? Kneeling beside the dog, Raquel tried to penetrate the darkness with her gaze. Again, she saw nothing.

Given all the activity at the rear of the property, she doubted anyone would hear a cry for help. Her phone. Raquel fumbled around for it in her pocket. In case of emergency, she could call Theo. That might work.

The dog whined. Strained against the railing again.

More anxious huffs, but this time his tone was different. Less a warning, more like a plea.Come back. Please come back to me.

Raquel rested a comforting hand on his back as she studied his face intently.

“What is it?” she whispered.

That whine again, a faint tail wag.

“Is it someone you know? Someone you miss?”

The dog finally tore his gaze from the woods, concentrated on her instead. She stroked the top of his head.

“You aren’t a random stray, are you?” she murmured. “The way you went directly there. Straight to the overgrown well and that poor lost soul. I think she was a woman. Am I right?”

The dog regarded her with his big brown eyes. She stared back.

“What brought you here? I spoke to the contractors every day for months. None of them reported a stray hanging around the job site. But within days of us moving in…What else do you know, mystery pooch? What else do you need to show us?”

In response, Mr. Man sighed. Deep, heavy, as if expelling a lifetime of woe in a single breath.

He placed his shaggy head on her shoulder. She hesitated, caught off guard by the contact. But then she wrapped her arms around him, feeling the warmth emanating from his sturdy torso. He leaned against her. And for a moment, she swore she could sense in him a loss so profound, it was matched only by her own.

She stroked his ears. “When I first walked through this house,” she whispered in his ear, “I could feel its sadness calling to me. I assumed it still mourned for its family, the six people it loyally sheltered until one night…But now, after today’s discovery, I wonder if it’s the land itself that hurts.” She sighed. “Are you good at keeping secrets, Mr. Man?”

The dog nuzzled her cheek.

“Me too.” She sighed again. A lifetime of woe indeed. And she could feel it again, the waves of sorrow. From all around her, fromdeep inside her. Her and the home, entwined in a kinship of despair, bonded by all the stories they knew but could never tell.

Now you’re just like me…

Mr. Man’s ears pricked. He pulled away from her as another vehicle rolled down the dirt drive. More outsiders invading their space. Whatever hope Raquel had of controlling this situation was quickly evaporating. After fifteen years of keeping a low profile, she was about to be thrust once more into the public spotlight.

Surely after all this time it wouldn’t matter? But she already didn’t believe that for a moment.Bunny, I’m scared.

Me too, she thought. Me too.

She rose to standing, summoning an appropriately somber expression as she led the next official to the now crowded meadow behind her house.

When she returned, the dog had finally settled into his bed, big head still pointed at the woods. After another moment, she unwrapped the cashmere throw from her shoulders and tucked it around his muddy frame.

“Good night, partner in crime.”

Then she retreated inside the house, where she retrieved two pills from the stash she kept hidden at the bottom of a tampon box, popped them into her mouth, and welcomed the oblivion that followed.

Dimly, she was aware of Theo’s return. The brief coolness of covers being pulled back, followed by the radiating heat of his body.

“Our dog has his own cashmere blanket?” he whispered in her ear as he drew her against him.

“He was cold.”