5
Lauren woke up feeling slightly disorientated before remembering where she was. The veils fell all about her bed, bright from the morning sunlight and the effect soothed her. Laying back against the pillows, she thought about the previous night.
About how she’d slipped out of Marcus’s arms and into her room without even answering any of his questions. No doubt he’d found that suspicious, but she hoped he’d put it down to her being overwhelmed by his...well, his manly charms, or whatever.
She sighed.
She can’t stay in this house forever. She came to Woodfair for a reason and she had to get things done so she could leave the place. Again.
But what exactly was she going to do?
She couldn’t exactly keep the house, could she? It must be worn through from decades of neglect. It was most probably used in ghost stories to scare naughty children in the town these days. A house she once lived in long ago.
Lauren sat up in bed, trying and failing to recall anything about the house. She didn’t even know what it looked like, really.
That wasn't good. It was the house her mother grew up in, the house her grandfather had built with his hard savings. She owed it to him to at least visit their home, didn’t she? Surely, she could do that little after everything her family had been through. She was, after all, the only surviving Burns.
And the house was hers. Lauren tilted her head, never having really thought of it that way before. There had always been her aunt to make the decisions about everything, but now her aunt was gone and Lauren had to suddenly take the helm. The fate of the house lied in her hands.
The realization gave her purpose and Lauren got off the bed and out from under the veils, heading straight into the bathroom. Suddenly, she paused, remembering her Aunt's chiding words about prayer.
Lauren backtracked to her bedside and got on her knees. With her grandfather having been a priest, her mom and aunt were raised under strict rules and prayer was a way of life. Lauren found that stifling and oppressing, but she'd never mentioned that to her aunt.
Sometimes because she was ashamed. She was the granddaughter of the Rev. Jonathan Burns, for heaven's sake. You'd think she'd take a little more interest in praying.
A few minutes later she got up and on with her day.
A hot shower got her thoughts straight and she began to plan her day. She needed to sit with the mayor and discuss the house. He probably knew that she came back because of it since he and the town council had been debating over it as Mr. Hutson had earlier said.
She must let Mayor Stanford know that the house was not to be demolished at all. She wanted to go through it first, without really being sure why.
She just wanted to...see.
Then when she’d gathered enough of the old place’s dust into her lungs, she’d see to it that the house was cleaned up and fixed up, spic and span.
Hopefully, the cost of that wouldn’t be too high, since the house was over twenty years old. Hell, it was over forty years old. But, she would try her best and when it was all fixed, she’d sell it off at a reasonable price and go on her way back to Chesterville where life was boring and predictable. She could hardly stay here in Woodfair after all these years, it was not home anymore.
She hardly remembers it ever being home.
With a sigh, Lauren stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel to quickly dry her hair.
If she hurried, she could get the papers and documents signed today then she could begin work on the house. God, she never planned for all this. She was going to have to hire people and spend more time in Woodfair than she’d planned.
Lauren groaned in annoyance.
“Gotta make it work, girl,” she mumbled to herself as she pulled the towel off and covered her skin in moisturizer before pulling on a pair of black jeans and a pink hoodie. She put her feet in comfortable Nikes, tied her hair up on the top of her head and left the room.
Slowly descending the stairs, she listened for any sounds downstairs. The sound of a television showing the morning news reached her ears. She could hear the Mayor mumbling something in response to what the news anchor was saying.
When Lauren got downstairs, she'd taken only a step when Martha came out of nowhere, looking as regal as a queen.
"Lauren, dear, there you are," she stated, with a wave of the hand.
Lauren nodded. She didn't know why, but she suddenly didn't feel so at ease any longer. Maybe it was because her nosy ass overheard their strange conversation last night. Or she was probably worked up again about being back in this town.
"Morning, Martha," she said politely and Martha nodded, a graceful smile on her face.
"Come on and have breakfast now. You've got meat on your bones, I can tell you never miss a meal," she said.
Lauren blinked, not sure how to take that.
"Ehh...thanks a lot, Martha, but I think I should speak with Mayor Stanford first... about my reason for returning."
Martha shook her head. "Well, not on an empty stomach, dear.
"Now, Martha, dear, let the young lady have her way," Mayor Stanford intervened.
Lauren turned around to watch him approach, dropping the morning paper on the dining room table as he did so.
"Morning, Mayor," Lauren greeted and he smiled warmly, showing her to the table.
She quickly sat. The sooner they got this out of the way, the sooner she could get other things done and out of this town before she accidentally came face to freaking face with Aaron Spencer.
"Mr. Mayor," she began, but Martin held up a hand, stopping her.
"Now, Lauren, I know what you're going to say and I want to give you my full assurance that no such thing will happen. The people of this town treasured your grandfather and were sore about losin' him. Even today, we treasure his memory. Nobody and I mean nobody ...will stand in your way of living in this great town again."
Lauren stared at him, with a puzzled frown…
"I'm not moving back here, Mr. Mayor. Not at all," she quickly said, refusing for there to be any misunderstanding over the fact.
Martin blinked. "You aren't?"
"No," Lauren shook her head. "I came back for the house, sir."
Martin blinked. "The house? What house?" he asked with a tilt of his head. Martha appeared and stood beside him, her hand on his shoulder.
"Well...the house. Our house. I came to claim it so the town council wouldn't demolish it," Lauren explained.
She looked as Martin and Martha exchanged confused expressions.
"My dear..." Martin began. "Would you care to explain?"
Lauren didn't understand. Why was he asking her to explain? Wasn't he and his council the ones who wanted to run down her family home? What was there to explain?
Lauren drew in a breath.
"I was informed of the indecisiveness you and the town council were having about our house. How you didn't know whether to run it down or come and find me, so I made things easier and came back to claim the house. This way, you don't have to worry about the place any longer."
Martin and Martha exchanged glances again. Lauren shrugged at them. "What's the matter?" she questioned.
"Lauren, there hasn't been a town council in Woodfair for over fifteen years," Martha stated quietly. "All decisions are made by Martin and his Deputy, Vincent Krowski, according to the townsfolk's voting."
Lauren frowned at her. "But... didn't he say..."
It didn't make sense. Didn't old Hutson say the town council wanted to demolish the house? Okay, maybe he was a little out of it. He was old after all.
She waved it away. "Okay, let's forget about the council. I'm still here to help you make that decision, Mr. Mayor. If you could draw up whatever papers that need to be signed, I'd be happy to sign," she said with a nod.
The mayor still gave her a questioning look.
"Lauren, I've never wanted to demolish your family home. It's stood there, on Walker's Lane, for twenty years. Strong and undisturbed, I've made sure of that," Martin explained slowly, as though he feared she wouldn't understand.
Lauren didn't understand at all. Why on earth had Montgomery Hutson come to her house then??
She stared at the Mayor and his wife's concerned faces with an expression of pure confusion.
"I think somebody's been givin' you the wrong information, sweetheart," Martha said gently.
Lauren looked at her and nodded slowly as she got up. Were they serious right now?
Actually was Montgomery bloody Hutson serious? Because between him and the Mayor, one had to be lying.
But why would a strange old man come wobbling into her home just to make her drive miles to the last place she'd ever want to see for absolutely nothing?
Lauren's jaw clenched. It wasn't funny, whatever they thought they were doing.
With an annoyed sigh, she got up from the table.
"So nobody owns the house actually, right?" she grumbled, feeling like an idiot for bringing up something that never even existed.
"It’s yours, Lauren, you are the rightful owner as Rev. Jonathan Burns' granddaughter. It would have...” The Mayor trailed off and Lauren raised a brow, shoving her hands into her hoodie pockets.
The Mayor looked regretful of the words he was yet to speak. "It would have been your mother’s, had she not been... uh, murdered by...”
Lauren stared at him then let her eyes drift to the floor. Was he afraid to say the name? It was Aaron Spencer!! It always had been.
He'd murdered her grandfather and then her mother when she'd caught him. The bastard deserved to die.
A crooked smile tilted Lauren's pink mouth and she felt her eyes burn with tears as she looked at the Mayor.
Before either one of them could stop her, she turned and headed for the door.
"I need some air, excuse me."
"Uh... b-breakfast, dear?" Martha called.
"I'll get something out, thank you," Lauren called back as she pulled the door closed.
Chase jumped up and down around her, looking for attention, but Lauren didn't even feel like petting the big furry dog.
She walked out of the yard and sighed.
What the hell had she come back for then? Just to waddle around in this town, recalling all the injustice that was done to her family? Rage bit away at Lauren and she resisted the urge to kick the wheel of her car, parked a few inches to her left.
Taking a deep breath, she tossed the large pink hood over her head, shoved her earphones in and started walking. Music had been something else forbidden by her aunt, but Lauren didn't care. She was twenty-five years old, not five. She played all her favorite Eminem, Rihanna and Sia songs as she walked.
The music that usually made her happy and calm did nothing today. She only got angrier. She had been walking for twenty minutes, not really seeing anything she went past. Everything blended into a blur of green parks and white fences on the edges of the red she was seeing.
Here she was. Alone. Not a single person she could call family, not even friends, really, because her aunt would chase them away.
Her aunt.
Abigail Burns had done a lot of things with her strict rules that Lauren hadn't liked, but she'd never complained. Lauren had always walked on eggshells, never wanting to hurt or upset her aunt at all. She'd been through enough pain.
Pain she'd experienced at the hand of that Aaron fucking Spencer. Lauren clenched her jaw so tightly, she felt like her teeth would shatter. Her heart sped as her anger soared. She's never really understood it.
How?? How the fuck do you manage to murder two people... two ... and still go scot-free? And how do you commit two murders at sixteen anyway? What kind of possessed being does that?
Lauren stopped walking and squinted at the sky furiously as though waiting for answers to her questions. When none came, she lowered her head and continued walking.
A minute later, she came to another green park. Headlights by Eminem, one of her all-time favorites, came on, but she pulled the earphones out. With the mood she was in, that song was bound to draw some tears out and the last thing she wanted to do was cry. Even if it was prompted by Nate Ruess's beautiful voice or Slim's heart-piercing lyrics.
With a sigh, she looked around and noticed a diner-like place across the park. Her stomach rumbled and Lauren decided to get food.
She walked into the little diner, the bell chiming over her head. The place was filled with delicious breakfast aromas. She walked up to the counter and a chubby-faced little old lady came to serve her, beaming warmly at Lauren.
"Why, hello, darlin’," she cooed. "Welcome back to Woodfair, dear."
Lauren stiffened. Was she that recognizable? For Christ's sake, it had been twenty years. Or maybe it was just that news traveled at the speed of light in this town.
"T-thank you," she muttered.
The woman smiled warmly at her, wiping a tear off her own cheek. "A splittin' image of our dear Catherine, you are."
Lauren's heart nearly stopped and her eyes filled. She blinked to clear them and the lady handed her a tissue.
"Oh, I'm sorry, darlin'. Me and my big mouth, you go on and order anythin’ you like, it's on the house."
Lauren nodded. "Thanks," she said with a small smile.
"Hey, Lauren!" Lauren heard suddenly and turned around.
In a booth behind her were seated the two from the other day. What were their names again?
Sam and James. Oh, yeah. They were smiling and waving her over.
Lauren hesitated. There were three others there, two guys and a girl. They were gazing at her like she was some creature from Atlantis.
Slowly, Lauren walked over to them.
"Hey, Samantha. Hi, James," she said with a crooked smile. Although they were strangers, they seemed pretty nice.
"Hello again, you!" Samantha greeted cheerfully, making Lauren chuckle. God, she was like an energizer bunny.
"Why don't you join us, Lauren?" James offered. Samantha scooted and made room for her. She sat and regarded the other three.
"These," James said, "...are our friends: Parker, Natalie, and Grayson."
Lauren smiled and gave a little wave. "Hey."
Natalie extended her hand and Lauren offered hers in return. "Nice to meet you, Lauren," the attractive brunette twanged. Her eyes sparkled with unhidden curiosity.
The men shook her hand as well and soon enough, conversation flowed.
Lauren couldn't believe it. Just about half an hour ago, she had been feeling as awkward as a newborn colt and now she was easily laughing at Natalie's jokes and un-awkwardly answering their questions about where she'd lived when they'd left Woodfair.
Nobody mentioned anything about the murders or Aaron Spencer. She felt much better than that morning.
Until the door opened.
Lauren hadn't seen, her back was to the door.
She heard the bell chime...and suddenly the table went dead silent.
She looked up from her pancakes. Everyone was staring behind her at the door. Parker looked ready to kill. Natalie raised a brow in that way that let Lauren know that she was looking at a sexy male specimen
Only Grayson didn't stare so harshly. She saw him move his head. Like he was shaking it and Lauren immediately heard the bell again.
Who was it?
She immediately turned around.
Something told her she didn’t want to miss this.