out into the hallway. Pressing his shoulder to
the wall, he walked slowly and softly down towards the stairs,
keeping his feet as close to the floor moulding as he could. He
glanced back and saw Allie looking out into the hallway, tightly
holding a tan blanket around her shoulders. Connor reached the top
of the stairs, leaning down to try to hear any sounds inside the
house. He started to slowly descend the stairs.
Outside, a wailing siren split through the air for just a
moment, then stopped abruptly. Connor, now on the landing, could
see its flashing lights through the window by Allie's desk. Hearing
footsteps, he turned to see Allie running down the hall. She looked
up at him for a second, then ran down the stairs, the blanket
billowing behind her.
Allie opened the front
door just as the policeman was walking up the steps. Through the
open door, Connor could see her telling the cop what she had heard.
The cop pulled out a flashlight, leaving to check out the back of
the house. For a moment, Connor considered putting his gun back in
the table drawer, but decided to keep it on him, just in case. He
stood in the landing, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed.
Allie had closed the front door, and either from nervousness or
chill, was lightly rocking on her heels. He nodded down to her, and
noticed that her feet were no longer bare, but clad in a pair of
his black socks. Damn, he thought.
Connor heard the cop's
boots stomp up the porch. He heard him tell Allie that he couldn't
see anything suspicious, suggesting that it could have been an
animal, since he had noticed that the lid of the trash can in the
back had been knocked over. They would patrol more often for the
next couple of nights, the policeman informed her. Allie thanked
him, and still holding onto the blanket, shut and bolted the door.
She turned around and shivered. "So much for our intrepid police
department," Allie noted sarcastically, as she pulled the blanket
around her more tightly, looking up for Connor.
"I want to check things
out for myself," Connor said, and she jumped. He had descended the
rest of the stairs while she was closing the door, and was standing
near her desk, hands on his hips.
"My God, you scared me
half to death." Allie yelled, immediately feeling better at not
having to whisper any more. "I'm coming with you," she added
soberly, as he headed into the dining room.
When she caught up to him,
Connor looked down at the blanket still around her, and smiled, his
eyebrows raised in amusement.
"Alright, let me put a
jacket and shoes on first." Allie gave him a sarcastic look, and
sighed loudly.
With Connor walking ahead,
they passed through the kitchen into the back hallway, Allie
nervously glancing around her.
"I'll wait here." He
stopped in the hallway, and she hurried past him into her bedroom
and shut the door. He thought of something and walked over and
tapped her door.
"Where are your
flashlights?"
"In the kitchen drawer
under the coffeepots." Allie called back. Before he had gotten back
to the hall with the two flashlights, he saw her emerge from her
room, tying her hair back into a ponytail. She had changed into her
sweatpants outfit from the night before, and thrown on a short
black jacket, and white tennis shoes.
"What do you want to check
out first?" She took the flashlight he held out to her.
"Basement first, I
think."
"Ok, just to let you know, I detest that basement,
actually, any basement." She shivered. "It's horrible. I've only been
down there twice in the last seven years."
At Connor's questioning
look, she continued. "....once when we first moved here, and the
last time was after Patrick died."
She motioned with her
flashlight toward the narrow basement door, painted white as all
the doors and trim were at the inn. She had hung a small twig
wreath on the door, in an attempt to make it appear more cheerful.
Connor saw her look of dread as he placed his hand on the door
knob.
"You can sit at the top of
the
the wall, he walked slowly and softly down towards the stairs,
keeping his feet as close to the floor moulding as he could. He
glanced back and saw Allie looking out into the hallway, tightly
holding a tan blanket around her shoulders. Connor reached the top
of the stairs, leaning down to try to hear any sounds inside the
house. He started to slowly descend the stairs.
Outside, a wailing siren split through the air for just a
moment, then stopped abruptly. Connor, now on the landing, could
see its flashing lights through the window by Allie's desk. Hearing
footsteps, he turned to see Allie running down the hall. She looked
up at him for a second, then ran down the stairs, the blanket
billowing behind her.
Allie opened the front
door just as the policeman was walking up the steps. Through the
open door, Connor could see her telling the cop what she had heard.
The cop pulled out a flashlight, leaving to check out the back of
the house. For a moment, Connor considered putting his gun back in
the table drawer, but decided to keep it on him, just in case. He
stood in the landing, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed.
Allie had closed the front door, and either from nervousness or
chill, was lightly rocking on her heels. He nodded down to her, and
noticed that her feet were no longer bare, but clad in a pair of
his black socks. Damn, he thought.
Connor heard the cop's
boots stomp up the porch. He heard him tell Allie that he couldn't
see anything suspicious, suggesting that it could have been an
animal, since he had noticed that the lid of the trash can in the
back had been knocked over. They would patrol more often for the
next couple of nights, the policeman informed her. Allie thanked
him, and still holding onto the blanket, shut and bolted the door.
She turned around and shivered. "So much for our intrepid police
department," Allie noted sarcastically, as she pulled the blanket
around her more tightly, looking up for Connor.
"I want to check things
out for myself," Connor said, and she jumped. He had descended the
rest of the stairs while she was closing the door, and was standing
near her desk, hands on his hips.
"My God, you scared me
half to death." Allie yelled, immediately feeling better at not
having to whisper any more. "I'm coming with you," she added
soberly, as he headed into the dining room.
When she caught up to him,
Connor looked down at the blanket still around her, and smiled, his
eyebrows raised in amusement.
"Alright, let me put a
jacket and shoes on first." Allie gave him a sarcastic look, and
sighed loudly.
With Connor walking ahead,
they passed through the kitchen into the back hallway, Allie
nervously glancing around her.
"I'll wait here." He
stopped in the hallway, and she hurried past him into her bedroom
and shut the door. He thought of something and walked over and
tapped her door.
"Where are your
flashlights?"
"In the kitchen drawer
under the coffeepots." Allie called back. Before he had gotten back
to the hall with the two flashlights, he saw her emerge from her
room, tying her hair back into a ponytail. She had changed into her
sweatpants outfit from the night before, and thrown on a short
black jacket, and white tennis shoes.
"What do you want to check
out first?" She took the flashlight he held out to her.
"Basement first, I
think."
"Ok, just to let you know, I detest that basement,
actually, any basement." She shivered. "It's horrible. I've only been
down there twice in the last seven years."
At Connor's questioning
look, she continued. "....once when we first moved here, and the
last time was after Patrick died."
She motioned with her
flashlight toward the narrow basement door, painted white as all
the doors and trim were at the inn. She had hung a small twig
wreath on the door, in an attempt to make it appear more cheerful.
Connor saw her look of dread as he placed his hand on the door
knob.
"You can sit at the top of
the
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