Page 70 of Phobia

“Thank you,” I murmured. I didn’t know what she did tohim, or how, but I had a feeling her arrival was the reason the two of us were still breathing. I’d never met Larkin’s mom when she was alive, but I would make certain to pay my respects at her grave.

“For what?” Larkin asked, blinking at me.

I cleared my throat, pretending I didn’t hear him.

“Can you tell Larkin something for me?” Larkin’s grandma paused, waiting for another nod. “Tell him his mother and I love him, that he’snothinglike his father. And I’m sorry I tried to keep you two apart. I see how much you love each other. I’ve always seen it. It was wrong of me to force him to be something he’s not. Will you tell him?”

Swallowing thickly, I gave her another nod. “I will.”

“Will what?” Larkin asked, his eyes widening. “Is she still here? Talking to you?”

In answer to his question, his grandma knelt beside him and reached out, brushing his cheek with her transparent fingertips.

Larkin exhaled sharply, clutching my knee. “Grandma? Is that you? Jame, was that her?”

“Te amo, mijo,” she whispered with a sad smile, fading from sight.

“She’s gone now,” I said softly, “but she wanted me to give you a message, if you want to hear it.”

“Of course I want to hear it.”

Somehow I managed to relay what she said with minimal tears and only one sniffle. While I wished Larkin could have heard her himself, or that she’d told him all of that when she was still alive, I guess it was better late than never.

Larkin looped one arm around my neck and pulled me against him, hugging me tightly. “Thank you for telling me.”

After a moment of holding each other, the weight of the real world settled on my shoulders like a giant boulder. I sighed, turning my attention to Tim’s lifeless body. “What are we going to do about him?”

“I suppose we should call the cops,” Larkin said glumly.

“I’m surprised they’re not here already, with the gunshots. You know Mrs. Koch was always bitching about how loud we were as kids.”

He made a face and waved me off. “Do you know how many noise complaints cops get on Halloween? It’s like New Year’s or the Fourth of July. They probably assume it’s fireworks. Even if they drove down the street, they wouldn’t see us out here.”

“I mean… if you think they’re busy, then we shouldn’t add to their workload,” I said slyly.

He gave me a curious look before picking up what I was putting down. “It’s so much paperwork. Detectives need to be called. Along with the coroner. Not to mention the poor paramedics we’d end up waking up.”

“So, really, we’d be doing everyone a favor bynotcalling it in.”

He nodded solemnly. “I think so.”

I nodded as well. “On one condition, though.”

Larkin raised both brows, waiting.

“You go see Dr. Corbin for your shoulder as soon as we get back to Winslow.”

“Considering he told us to dig up a corpse and set it on fire, I’m guessing he won’t be too concerned with reporting a bullet hole to Treadwell.”

“Yeah, probably not.”

“Ok. First, we get rid of Tim’s body and the truck, then we go see Corbin. Deal?”

“Deal. Does your grandma have salt in the house?”

He chuckled. “Oh yeah. Table. Pickling. Kosher. Take your pick.”

“Ok. I’m going to go get the stuff we need to do the cleansing thing, just to be on the safe side, and I’ll be right back. Donotmove. Do you hear me?”