90_Minutes_to_Live (17 page)

“I thought I heard a man call my name. I heard a door slam. Maybe I’m just stressed from the move and everything that’s happened.”

He gently kissed her forehead. “I’m here now. We’ll go over the house together and tomorrow we’ll make sure all the doors and windows are locked before I leave for work,” he hugged her tightly. “It’ll be okay.”

*   *   *

Justine triple checked all the locks after Kevin left for work the next morning. She was starting to feel better though. If anything, she was embarrassed at having called 911 over what had most likely been her overreacting to being alone in the house.

She decided what she needed that morning was a hot bath to ease her troubled mind. The upstairs bathroom was one of her favorite rooms in the whole house. Justine loved the crown molding, the high ceiling and the blue ceramic tiled floor. There was the stained-glass window with the roses, above the pedestal sink but also beside the claw-foot tub, a large window with the same view of the property as the bay window in the attic. Locked inside the bathroom, Justine felt safe. The hot water felt luxuriously silky as it enveloped her. She eased into the tub with a long sigh. The house was quiet and the scent of vanilla candles perfumed the air. She closed her eyes, had just started to relax when, she felt someone slip into the tub with her.

Her eyes flew open but she was alone. The water was calm and undisturbed. She tried to slow her pounding heart. She really needed to get a grip. As she sat up to grab a washcloth, she suddenly felt something brush her arm. This time she froze.

Justine.

She flinched. The voice was the same as the one she had heard the day before. It was deep and gravelly; a man’s voice.

Pick up the razor, Justine.

The voice seemed to be speaking right beside her but no one else was in the room. She wanted to believe this was all in her head, that she was having a mental breakdown from the stress of losing her baby, but there was something too real about what was happening. She looked nervously at the pink Bic razor on the ledge of the tub and found herself wishing she had splurged for the Mach 3 with blade protection.

Pick up the razor, Justine, or I will kill you.

Terrified, she picked up the razor. A rough hand tightened around her wrist and it yanked her, shaking, to her feet. She didn’t have time to think. All she could do was gasp as the grip tightened on her wrist. She watched in horror as the razor in her hand slowly lowered onto her inner thigh and the blade pressed down on her delicate skin.

I don’t like the way you look at him.

Justine wanted to let go of the razor but at this point, she didn’t have a choice. She winced as the blade pressed harder into her skin and the first drops of blood appeared. “Please,” she whimpered. Her hand suddenly jerked across her thigh, slicing the blades through her flesh. She screamed and the grip on her wrist faded away.

She dropped the razor and stood in the tub, watching the blood gush down her leg. The pain was sharp and hot. Tears streamed down her face as she tried to collect herself. The room had become silent again, save for her own racking sobs.

*   *   *

“Well, at least you don’t need stitches,” the doctor said, as he finished bandaging her leg. He frowned, “But I can’t believe you walked here with your leg like this. How far did you say you walked? A mile?”

Justine nodded. “Yes, we’re at the old house at the end of Pickard Lane.”

“Oh,” the doctor said.

She didn’t like the look on his face. “Do you know of the place?”

“Yes.” He looked into her eyes, as if searching for something. “Did you know the former owners?” he asked.

“Oh, no. We don’t know much about the house actually. Just that it was very convenient for us. It even came fully furnished. Do you know anything about the people who lived there before us?”

“Not much. It was a married couple. David and Rose Palmer. But they-”

Justine cut him off. “Rose!” she said, suddenly excited. “That’s why there are roses throughout the house!”

The doctor only nodded and took off his gloves. “Well, there’s nothing else I can do for you, except to call you a cab. Do try to be more careful the next time you shave. It would help to invest in a better razor,” he laughed. “My wife was always stealing mine until I insisted she get her own! Honestly, I don’t know why they don’t make better razors for women.”

Justine shrugged. “Thanks for your help,” she went out to sit in the waiting room until the cab arrived.

What was she going to tell Kevin? If she told him what had actually happened, he would think she was mad. Even she was questioning her sanity. Did she have a momentary hallucination? Could stress do that to someone? Already the incident was feeling less real. An invisible man made her cut herself? How could that be possible? Either way, she didn’t want to be alone in that house again. In fact, she wanted to move—as soon as possible.

It wasn’t until they were undressing for bed that she revealed her injury to Kevin. “It’s just a nick,” she said.

He stared at her in disbelief. “A nick? A nick that requires bandages? Let me see.”

Justine sighed and reluctantly undid the bandage.

“Oh, my God,” Kevin gasped. “Justine, that’s more than a nick! How did this happen?”

“I just slipped while I was shaving,” she avoided meeting his eyes.

He exhaled slowly and his tone became gentle. “Come here,” he motioned for her to sit with him on the bed. He kissed the top of her head and looked into her eyes. “Please, be honest with me,” he said, slowly. “Are you cutting yourself again?”

“No Kevin, I’m not. Absolutely not!” she pulled away from him, her temper rising. “Look...that was an isolated incident.”

“You told me you cut yourself for years, as a teenager.”

“
One
year—and it was because my parents were stifling me. I spent five months in an institution. You think I’d risk having to go through that again? I’ve been fine since then. You know that.”

“Except for those two days after the baby died.”

Justine stood up and started to pace. “It was just a couple times. That was it. I lost our baby. I didn’t even get to meet him. How can you blame me for anything I did after that?” she stopped and looked at her fiancé. She knew she couldn’t tell him the truth; he would think she was crazy.

“Really, I just slipped. That’s all. You’ve got to believe me.”

Kevin sighed. “All right. I believe you. I wouldn’t mind taking a few days off work though, just to be on the safe side.”

He expected her to say no, to reassure him she was fine but instead she nodded. “Sure. If that would make you feel better. I miss having you around the house anyway,” she frowned. “But what about your new job? Won’t they need you?”

“Darling, that’s what substitute teachers are for.”

A mischievous grin appeared on her face. She pulled off her blouse. “Hey baby. I could be your substitute teacher,” she climbed into his lap and looked coyly into his eyes. “We’re in biology and I think you need to stay after class. There’s more you need to learn about the human anatomy.”

Kevin raised his eyebrows. “Yes, ma’am!”

Justine giggled, and then suddenly cried out in pain.

“What is it?”

She looked down at her ring finger. For a second, she had felt searing heat where her ring was, as if someone had suddenly sliced through her finger with a saw. She half-expected to be looking down at a raw, jagged stump.

“It’s nothing,” she fibbed. “I just twisted the wrong way. We are sitting kind of awkwardly you know.”

“Right.” Kevin sighed, feeling tired. “Look, let’s save the role playing for another night. It’s been a long day,” he kissed her tenderly and pulled her down beside him. “Let’s get some sleep. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Within minutes, he was snoring. Justine felt envious of her husband’s restful slumber. She lay wide-awake, despite being exhausted. How was she going to convince him they needed to move? She was already doubting the decision. The house and the town were perfect; it was
she
who was the problem. Maybe she was having some kind of psychological relapse, although she had never hallucinated before. Then again, she had never lost a baby before either. Justine tossed and turned with these thoughts all night, finally falling asleep right before sunrise.

*   *   *

There were no more incidents during the following days. By the time the weekend came, Justine was cheery and hopeful. She loved spending time with Kevin around the house. They painted the living room a sage green and trimmed the rose bushes in the front garden. She was starting to fall back in love with their new home. How could she leave this place? She was convinced she’d had a momentary breakdown. Considering what she had been through, that wasn’t too implausible.

They spent the weekend exploring Gravenstein. The town square held a farmer’s market on Sunday mornings, with the produce laid out like jewels in the sun. The displays of winter squash made her feel festive and excited. She had always loved Halloween. There was a whole stall dedicated to selling pumpkins. She rushed over and admired the different kinds. She saw the traditional orange pumpkins but there were also white ones, grey ones and ones with bumps all over them.

She turned to Kevin. “Can we buy some pumpkins? Let’s branch out this year and get a white one.”

“Sure, hon. Whatever you’d like.” he smiled. He was happy to see her in a good mood again.

She ran her fingers over the swollen white surface of one and suddenly stopped. Something about the texture, about the firmness of the skin, reminded her of a pregnant belly. She stepped back from the pumpkin. “You know what? Let’s buy them when it gets closer to Halloween. We already have so many things to carry today,” she motioned to the bags laden with apples, squash and salad greens in his hands.

“Okay. But why don’t you get some sunflowers from the last stall before we go.”

The bright yellow petals made her smile. Sunflowers were so sunny and hopeful. While Kevin browsed a few stalls down, she grabbed a bunch and went to pay. “How much?” she asked the pretty brunette behind the table.

The woman pushed her glasses up on her nose. She reminded Justine of a cute little mouse. “How many bunches do you have?” the woman asked in a quiet voice.

“Just the one,” Justine replied.

“Three dollars, please.”

She pulled out a five. “Here you go.”

The woman reached to take the money but pulled back, gasping. She looked at Justine in alarm. “Where did you get that ring?”

Justine drew her hand away. “My boyfriend gave it to me. We’re engaged.”

The woman looked furious. “You need to leave. Now,” she stammered.

“What?” Justine said, setting the flowers down.

“Now! Get out of here!”

“Fine,” Justine snapped and walked away from the wooden counter. She stormed off, bumping right into Kevin before she recognized him.

“Whoa, slow down there darling.” he grinned. “Why the rush?” his smile faded when he saw the look on her face.

“People in this town are weird,” she muttered. “That woman freaked out about my ring.”

“Well, maybe she knew the former owner. This is a small town.” He kissed her reassuringly. “Why don’t you wait here and I’ll go ask her what the problem is.”

She kissed him back. “Okay, but hurry. I’m suddenly not feeling so well.”

He nodded, heading back to the vendor. “Excuse me, miss?” he said, approaching the owner.

The woman had tears in her eyes. “Yes?”

He cleared his throat. “My fiancé was just in here. She said you didn’t react too kindly to the ring she’s wearing.”

She nodded. “That was my sister’s ring.”

“Whoa,” Kevin said in surprise. “Um, I’m so sorry,” he ran a hand through his hair. “Look, this is really awkward…I can explain. We just moved into a house on Pickard Lane and I found the ring in the attic. The house came fully furnished, so I just assumed anything left was ours to keep. In fact, that might even be in our sales contract,” he sighed and threw up his hands. “I’m not sure what else to say.”

The woman sobbed. “I don’t want that ring. I never wanted to see it again. Don’t you know what happened to my sister?”

Kevin shook his head.

She stared off into the distance, shaking, lost in some horrid memory, and started crying uncontrollably. “Look,” she said between sobs. “You need to know but this is not the place to talk about it.” With a shaky hand, she grabbed a pen and scribbled something down on a sheet of paper.

She thrust it at Kevin. “Here, this is my number. Call me in the next day or two. You
must
call me.”

“Thanks,” he said, confused. “Hey, are you going to be okay?” he asked, turning to leave.

She nodded.

“Okay then,” Kevin said and went out to find Justine.

“Well?” she asked when she saw him.

“The ring was her sister’s.”