Rancor: Sinister Attachments, Book 1 Read Free Page B

the boss’s parked vehicle, leaving a big dent in the front quarter panel of Mr. Hall's black Cadillac. She never reported it or told anyone, except Maggie. She told her how he ranted for a week about it and that he knew whoever did it had a white car because of the paint left on the crushed metal. Since the bumper of Jess's car had black paint on it, she was afraid to drive it to work anymore, fearing she would be fired if he found out she did it and never told him. So she started driving her brother's car, telling him hers was in the shop.
    And Jess knows that Maggie faked being sick so that she would not have to spend her only week of summer vacation with her in-laws, in a secluded cabin in the woods. There would be nothing to do but play cards, watch squirrels climb trees and listen to his family gripe. They wanted Maggie to stop that ridiculous pie in the sky idea she had about making money writing while praising Cory's every move. It would have been pure torture.
    “Maggie, dear,” mother McGee would say in her usual hoity-toity voice. “You know as well as I do that the odds of making any money from your writing are unrealistic. Who do you think you are? Agatha Christie?”
    Talk about a kick in the gut. Yes, pure hell.
    Maggie stood in her open doorway as Jess walked up the steps, twisting her head to look at the architecture of the old hospital.
    “I'm over here,” Maggie said, happy to see Jess.
    Jess walked into Maggie's apartment holding a fruit basket and a bottle of wine. “Wow, I can't believe you're living here. This place is about as creepy as they come.”
    “Thanks for the nice housewarming, Jess,” Maggie said, closing the door.
    “The view is spectacular,” Jess said, taking the basket and wine into the kitchen. “But I still don't think it's worth living here.”
    “I know, I know,” Maggie said, uncorking the wine bottle. She then took her only two drinking glasses from the cupboard. “I haven't had a chance to go down to the beach, yet. Do you want to go?”
    “Absolutely,” she said, taking the wine bottle. “Have you met your neighbors yet?”
    Maggie scrunched her nose. “Yeah, they're a little on the odd side. I even have to babysit tomorrow night, and I don't even know these people.”
    “I would've refused,” Jess said. “I think that's asking a lot of someone who just moved in.”
    “The guy in apartment 20A is kind of cute, though,” Maggie said, walking toward the door. Then she stopped and brought her hands to her face as tears filled her eyes. A surge of mixed feelings came over her. The horror of seeing Cory with a bloody gunshot wound to the head at the dining room table, mingled with memories of his loving touch and soft kisses.
    “Oh, Maggie, I'm so sorry,” Jess said, giving her a hug. “Go ahead and cry, it's all right. When you're ready to go back to the house, I'll go with you.”
    When the crying spell eased, Maggie pulled away from Jess to get a tissue from the bathroom. “I'm sorry, Jess.”
    “No apology needed,” Jess said. “Let's go enjoy the beach.”
    They walked down the steps to the first floor and past Mr. Zimmerman's office. They were about to go out the door leading toward the lake when the door to apartment 12C opened. An older woman with a green scarf tied around her head stopped in her tracks when she saw them, causing the thin wood tip cigar almost to fall from between her lips.
    Based on how the wrinkled woman was dressed in a long Gypsy skirt, moccasins and beaded necklaces, along with the fact that the woman's apartment was right below hers, she realized it had to be Ethel, the seer.
    “You must be Ethel,” Maggie said, smiling; hoping her eyes did not appear too red from crying. “I'm Maggie and this is my friend, Jess. I just moved in, my apartment is right above you.”
    The woman seemed nervous, or else she had Parkinson's disease. Her hand quivered when she reached up to take the cigar from her mouth. “Yes, I'm