The House of Wood by Anthony Price

access .
    “Like that’s ever stopped you
before. Please Connie. I’ll buy you dinner.”
    Always the
charmer. I’ll see what I can do .
    “Thanks Connie, I owe you. I
need you to look up family records, see if there’s any connection
to a Doctor David Cochrane. I’m also going to need to know who owns
the old farm house. You know the one, just outside town.”
    Why do you
need to know all that ?
    “Just a hunch.”
    Okay, I’ll
see what I can do .
    “Oh, one other thing. Let’s
just keep this between me and you for now. It’d be best if the
Sheriff didn’t know anything about it.”
    If you say
so .
    “You’re a star. Talk to you
later.”
    Nathan put the microphone back
on its hook. If he wanted answers, then where better to start than
the beginning.
    ***
    It didn’t take him long to
reach his destination. The house stood tall in front of him, as he
stepped out of the squad car. He had never liked the place. There
was something about it; an oppressive feeling that filled him with
dread. He imagined it was similar to the feeling of staring down a
predator. An involuntary spasm crept down his spine. At least it
wasn’t as bad as it used to be. Somebody was making a real effort
to return the building to its former glory.
    He had no idea why he had come.
It was as if the idea had popped out of nowhere, smashing through
his skull like a sledge hammer. As far as he knew, David had no
connection to the place. When the shit hit the fan three years ago,
David had probably never even heard of Willows Peak, let alone
having anything to do with the house. But there was something. An
air of mystery to the guy that Nathan just couldn’t let go of. He
had swept in to town and convinced everyone that he was this mild
mannered psychiatrist trying to help the poor folk. Well I’m not
fooled, Nathan thought. Like the house being all bright and shiny,
it was all fake.
    A crowing blackbird caught his
attention, as it swooped overhead and landed on the porch roof. Its
black eyes looked right through him. The answers were here. He knew
it. It was just a case of finding them.
    He walked up the wooden steps
towards the front door, surprised to see there wasn’t any workmen
around. By all accounts, Jonathon Kane and his boys had been up
here, every day for the past two weeks doing the place up. So
somebody definitely owned it. If he could get inside, then maybe he
could find out who? But there was no way a judge would grant a
search warrant without due cause. And there was no doubt in his
mind that he would be lucky enough for the door to be unlocked.
    Reaching out, he turned the
cold knob. It was shut firm. He quickly looked over his shoulder
and took out his pick lock. There was nobody around. Within a few
minutes the door was gaping wide open. He took one more look
around, then stepped over the threshold.
    The smell of fresh paint hit
him full in the face. The workmen obviously hadn’t left that long
ago. They were no doubt on a lunch break. Nathan realised he would
have to be quick in case they came back from wherever they had
gone.
    The workmen were doing a good
job on the place. The old dank and dreary décor had been replaced
with pastel paints and brand new furniture. There was no mistaking
it for what it was; a country farmhouse. But now it had a hint of
modernisation. He could still see that it wasn’t quite finished.
The new gas pipes running through the living room hadn’t been boxed
in yet and the table surfaces were still covered with dust sheets
to avoid paint drips ruining them. Apart from that, it was all but
finished.
    He didn’t want to waste too
much time admiring the decorating. He quickly got himself together
and started searching the house. First he swept through the living
room and then the adjacent kitchen diner. He had no idea what he
was looking for. If he could find any shred of evidence to connect
David to the house, then he would have him, hook line and sinker.
All it would take was a picture, any