He hadn’t meant to scare the child, but it wasn’t his fault that she was eavesdropping. He watched her run off, twin pigtails bouncing. He could already hear her, in his mind’s ear, telling her mommy about the mean man that was telling scary stories at the football game.
“I don’t care about any of that.” Mrs. Heath’s shrill voice turned him back to her, “It will be quite incredible once we gut it. Frankly, I’m surprised you’re not doing it yourself.”
Newen sighed, “That’s not my specialty Mrs. Heath.”
Mrs. Heath dabbed the sweat from her forehead, “Please, call me Larissa.”
Newen wiped sweat from his own forehead. It was hot and muggy. But that wasn’t why he was sweating.
“As I said, Mrs. Heath, the house has been host to a myriad of terrible events, of which the story that terrified the little girl…”
Mrs. Heath interrupted, “You mean Page?”
Newen nodded.
“Don’t mind her.” Mrs. Heath continued, “She’s always eavesdropping.”
Newen cleared his throat, “Be that as it may, the story she overheard is only the tip of the iceberg. I could spend the entire day recounting the terrible events that have happened there.”
“Yes, yes. I understand.”
Her tone said that she didn’t. It was the same voice Newen’s mother had taken on when he was a child and told her some imaginary thing. It was, in fact, the same tone Page’s mom’s voice had taken on when she consoled Page about the scary man and his scary story.
“But I don’t care. My husband,” Her face puckered like she had eaten a sour pickle when she mentioned him, “and I stand to make a lot of money. And, I believe that haunted houses are quite en vogue right now. In fact, we could turn it into an Air BnB and make a killing.” She cackled, “No pun intended.”
Newen shook his head in disbelief at her avarice. But he had tried to warn her. He put on his best smile and moved in for the kill. No pun intended.
“Then it’s settled. I’ll send over the contract in the morning.”
She smiled, “I’ll wire over the money in the afternoon.”
“Mrs. Heath, it’s been a pleasure.” Newen smiled.
She frowned at his use of her last name. “Yes, it has. Now I must get out of this dreadful heat. If you’ll excuse me.”
Newen inclined his head as he watched her sway off. A moment later he got up himself and strolled to his car as he pictured what would happen tomorrow. Mrs. Heath would sign the paperwork and then wire over the money. Then, as if they were drawn there, Mrs. Heath and her husband would go to visit the house. And then they would disappear. And there would be no record of the sale, or of the money, or of anything really. Except that Newen would have their money. And they would be gone.