The Boy in the Window: A Psychological Thriller Read online

  Blowing out a patient breath, Owen took hold of her arm and pulled her against his chest. “I’m sorry, hon. I’m just tired. It could be anyone. In fact, it’s probably the local hangout spot for the neighborhood kids. They’re probably up there right now smoking cigarettes and playing spin the bottle like we did at their age.”

  Jessica relaxed against him. “I didn’t think of that.”

  “Come on, let’s go.” Owen kissed the top of her head and led her back toward the hall.

  Once in the bedroom, he pulled back the covers and climbed into their king-size bed.

  Jess hesitated before joining him.

  She rolled toward him, and to his surprise, placed her head on his chest. “I’m sorry I’ve been so distant. I’m trying, Owen. I really am.”

  Owen’s heart twisted. He understood how difficult it was for Jess to open up to him. She’d remained closed off since Jacob’s passing. “I know you are, babe. I just want you to understand that I’m not going anywhere. I love you more than anything.”

  She lifted her head and met his gaze. “That means a lot. I love you, too. I may not show it very often, but I do.”

  He cupped her head in his palm and tugged her back down to his chest. “Get some sleep. We have a big day tomorrow.”

  Chapter Seven

  Jessica remained on Owen’s chest long after his breathing became even.

  With sleep eluding her, she eased to her side of the bed and tossed back the covers.

  Taking one last look at her now snoring husband, she inched out of bed and crept quietly from the room.

  It didn’t surprise her to find herself back in the living room, staring at the old, abandoned house.

  Nothing moved in that upstairs window, no matter how long she stood there watching it. Of course, it was almost midnight…the boy would have gone home by then.

  Just as she was about to give up her vigil and return to bed, something moved behind the darkened pane.

  Jessica pressed her nose to the glass, stunned to find the boy staring back at her from his previous position.

  The street light reflected off the pale skin of his face, leaving no doubt that he watched her as she watched him.

  What could he be doing up there? And why was no one looking for him? If that were her child, she’d be frantically running up and down the street, calling his name.

  She gave up her post, long enough to grab her robe and slippers, and then hurried outside.

  The same, cold wind she’d experienced earlier that day, blew through the trees, lifting her hair from her neck.

  Jessica paused, her gaze darting around the cul-de-sac before coming to rest on the red brick house. Thankfully, no lights were on inside.

  Instead of going to the front of the abandoned house, she skirted to the back and tried the door to find it locked.

  She stepped over to the side and tried the window to the right of the door. It slid open effortlessly.

  With a rush of adrenaline, Jessica rested her hands on the window sill and heaved herself over. A relieved breath escaped her lungs when her feet touched the floor on the other side.

  “Hello?” She could barely see her way around the darkened room—the streetlight coming through the front windows, her only guide. “Little boy?”

  As her eyes adjusted enough to her surroundings, she could make out the tiled pattern of the floor. She was in the kitchen.

  She carefully moved forward into what appeared to be a den. An old fireplace sat along the west wall, opposite a staircase.

  Jessica inched across the room, gripped the banister, and rested her foot on the bottom step. “Hey, kid?”

  Silence.

  She glanced behind her, noting the closed, front door before stepping fully onto the stairs. The wood creaked beneath her weight, echoing off the walls of the empty house and sending her stomach into a somersault.

  Taking a calming breath, Jess held tightly to the banister and slowly climbed the stairs. “I’m coming up.”

  After reaching the top, she turned left, stopping outside the room where she’d seen the child.

  She gripped the knob and slowly turned it. The door squeaked open with the slightest push. Jessica followed, stepping into the room to find it empty.

  Her gaze swept the area, coming to land on what appeared to be a closet. She trailed over to the closed door and tugged it open. Empty as well.

  Where could he have gone?

  Closing the closet door, Jess turned and bit back a gasp. There, staring out that window, stood the small boy in the striped T-shirt.

  She noticed his jeans were too short, and he wore no shoes. “Hi there.”

  He remained still, as if he hadn’t heard her. She wondered if perhaps he couldn’t hear. “Little boy?”

  Moving closer, she lifted her hand to touch his shoulder, only to jerk it back with the sound of heavy footballs coming up the stairs.

  Jess spun to face the door in time to watch the beefy, balding neighbor storm into the room.

  “You better have a damn good reason for being in here,” he growled, barreling toward her.

  Jessica stumbled back a step, her hands out in front of her. “I was just checking on the boy. It’s after midnight, and—”

  “What boy?”

  She gestured behind her. “I saw him in the window. I—”

  “I don’t know what sort of game you think you’re playing, but I’m calling the police.”

  “Game?” Jess glanced behind her to find the boy not there. Her gaze scanned the room in disbelief, anxiety mingling with panic. “He was just here!”

  The irate man grabbed her by the arm and yanked her forward, his breath reeking of alcohol. “You’re going to jail for breaking and entering.”

  He continued to speak, but Jess was no longer listening. The boy she’d seen standing at the window had disappeared as if he’d never been there.

  Was she losing her mind? Had she finally snapped under the grief of losing Jacob and had now become delusional? She wasn’t sure anymore.

  Jess brought her attention back to the snarling man in front of her. “Please…I’m sorry. I thought I saw a child standing in that window. I would have never come up here, otherwise.”

  “Eustice?” a meek, feminine voice called, coming up the stairs. “Is everything alright?”

  A woman that looked to be in her early fifties stepped into the room, wearing a floral print robe and slippers. Her once brown hair was peppered with gray and stood on end as if she’d just rolled out of bed. “My goodness, what is this?”

  Jessica met the woman’s gaze. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I didn’t mean to cause all this fuss. It was just a misunderstanding is all.”

  The woman’s eyes appeared nervous. “You must be the new neighbor.”

  “I am. My name’s Jessica. I truly didn’t mean for this to happen.”

  “We’re the Martins. I’m Geraldine, and that’s my husband, Eustice. Folks around here call me Gerri.”

  Jessica attempted to pull free of Eustice’s hold. “We only just arrived today. I would never have come up here had it not been for the child I saw.”

  Gerri glanced around the room. “There’s a child up here?”

  “Of course there’s not,” Eustice shot back, tightening his hold on Jessica’s arm. “She was up here nosing around after I told her earlier that she was trespassing.”

  “Jessica?” Owen yelled from downstairs, sending relief pouring through her.

  Eustice held onto her a moment longer, before releasing her now bruised arm.

  Jess rubbed at her tender skin. “I’m up here, Owen!”

  Giving Eustice a wide berth, Jess inched around him, stopping next to Gerri to offer her an apologetic smile. “Again, I’m sorry.”

  Gerri nodded nervously, her gaze flicking to Eustice.

  Owen’s footsteps could be heard jogging up the stairs. He came to a sudden stop at the door to the room. “What’s going on up here?”

  Jess hurried t
o her husband’s side. “Just a misunderstanding. Come on, let’s go.”

  “There was no misunderstanding,” Eustice spat. “Your wife was nosing around on private property. I’ve already warned her about trespassing. She’s lucky I don’t call the police. Next time, I won’t be so nice.”

  Owen took her by the hand and tugged her behind him. “It won’t happen again. You have my word.”

  Jess peered around Owen in time to see Gerri lower her head as Eustice ambled over to her side. It became more than obvious that his wife feared him.

  Eustice spat on the floor before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “See that it don’t.”

  His speech pattern told Jess that he lacked education as much as he lacked people skills.

  Owen turned without another word and guided Jess down the stairs. He waited until they reached the safety of their own bedroom before speaking. “What in God’s name were you thinking?”

  Jess moved to the other side of the bed and removed her robe. “I told you, there was a boy in that house.”

  “And you just took it upon yourself to run over there in the middle of the night without letting me know? What if something had happened to you?”

  “What if something had happened to him?” she shot back. “Does no one care that there was a young child in that abandoned house at this time of night? And how did you know I was over there?”

  Owen sighed and ran a hand down his face. “The front door to that house was standing open. Where was the child? I didn’t see anyone when I got there.”

  Jessica had no answer for him. “I don’t know. He was gone by the time I arrived.”

  “Gone,” Owen repeated in a wooden voice.

  Pulling back the covers, Jess took off her slippers and climbed in bed. “Yes, gone. Can we please talk about this another time? I just want to go to sleep.”

  Owen stared at her for a moment longer, before giving her a curt nod. “Fine. But don’t ever do that to me again. You scared the shit out of me.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Promise me, Jess. My heart can’t take more of what you put me through tonight. When I woke and found you gone…”

  Jessica looked away, unable to take the concern swimming in his eyes. “I promise.”

  Owen removed his own robe and got into bed next to her. His arm came around her, his lips brushing the side of her face. “I love you.”

  “Love you, too,” she whispered, sliding deeper under the covers and rolling to her side away from him.

  Though her eyes slid closed on command, her mind refused to shut down. It became filled with images of a dark-haired boy wearing a striped T-shirt and too small jeans.

  Chapter Eight

  Jessica pushed her cart through the local grocery store, ignoring the curious looks being tossed her way.

  Owen had started his new job earlier that week, leaving Jess alone during the day to finish unpacking and decorate their humble abode.

  The first thing on her agenda had been to put some food in the house. She’d already grown tired of carry out.

  “Jessica!”

  Jess looked up from her perusal of the cold food section to find Mrs. Hawthorn standing next to her. “Hi, Marge.”

  The short, plump blonde studied the items in Jessica’s cart. “That’s a lot of carbs. I’d be careful if I were you. You’ll end up a diabetic like me.”

  Unsure of how to respond, Jess turned and plucked up a very expensive gallon of milk. “Is this the only grocery store in town?”

  Marge nodded. “There’s one in Morhaven, but that’s about twenty miles from here.”

  “That explains why the prices are so high.” Jess placed the milk in her cart. “They have no competition.”

  Marge picked up a pack of cheese. “You got that right.”

  A thought occurred to Jess. She snagged a bag of shredded cheese, pretending to read the label. “What do you know about the people in the red brick house across the street from yours?”

  “The Martins?” Marge’s voice took on a gossiping tone. “I know more than I want to. Of course, the entire neighborhood knows their business. Especially when Eustice is drinking. Which is pretty much every day.”

  “Does he mistreat his wife?”

  Marge’s voice lowered to a whisper as if she feared being overheard. “He beats on her. Why do you ask? Did you see something?”

  Careful not to divulge too much, Jess whispered back, “No, but I could hear him yelling at her.”

  Marge stepped in closer. “Not that I know this for a fact, mind you, but rumor has it that Gerri couldn’t have children due to some female issues, and Eustice blamed her for it. Which, in my opinion, is the reason he puts his hands on her.”

  Now that she had Marge talking, Jess decided to steer the conversation in a different direction. “So, the Martin’s own that old abandoned house next door?”

  “They do. Although, I can’t imagine why. They bought it about thirteen years ago after that little Dayton boy came up missing.”

  A strange sensation poured through Jess. “I hadn’t heard about that.”

  “He lived in that house next door to you.”

  Placing the shredded cheese back onto the shelf, Jess pretended to search for a different kind. “What happened to his parents?”

  “The place ended up in foreclosure with the Dayton’s spending all their time and resources searching for the child. The Martins bought it after the bank forced the Daytons out.”

  Jessica’s heart went out to the Daytons. She knew exactly how hard it must have been for them to leave the home their son had lived in. She met Marge’s gaze. “I wonder why the Martins don’t rent it out or sell it?”

  Marge shrugged. “Eustice claims that it would take too much money to fix it up enough to sell or rent. Says that once he retires, he’ll sink some cash into it and unload it then.”

  Dropping the cheese into her cart, Jessica forced a smile. “Well, I’d better be going. I have a few more errands to run on my way home. It was nice chatting with you, Marge.”

  “You too, my dear.”

  Jess paid for her groceries, loaded them into her small SUV, and drove straight home. She hated lying to Marge about having errands to run, but she’d done what she needed to do to prevent an hour-long gossip-fest from taking place.

  Once the groceries were put away, Jess trailed off into the spare room they’d turned into an office and booted up her laptop. It came alive with a hum, going through the designated prompts until the sign on screen appeared.

  She entered the passcode, tapping her foot beneath the desk while she waited patiently for the search engine to load. She then typed in: Missing Florida boy/Dayton.

  Several results popped up onto the screen. Everything from Missing-Seven-year-old Sparkleberry Hills child, to Suspicion surrounding Terry Dayton’s disappearance.

  His name was Terry, Jess thought, clicking on one of the articles, only to recoil when they boy’s picture came into view. Staring back at her from the screen of her computer was the very boy she’d seen in the window of the house next door. The same house he’d lived in when he’d disappeared.

  She covered her mouth with a trembling hand, unable to look away from the small boy’s face.

  His long dark hair appeared unkept, framing his thin face and resting just above his large, green eyes—eyes that held mischief, and something else she couldn’t name. Sadness?

  Her gaze traveled down to the same striped T-shirt he’d had on the day she and Owen had moved in.

  She forced her attention to the article below Terry’s image. Seven-year-old Terry Dayton went missing from his home on January tenth.

  Jessica noticed the date in the article. Terry had been missing for thirteen years, just as Marge had said.

  She continued to read. Terry’s parents, Jasper and Melanie Dayton have offered a fifty-thousand-dollar reward for any information leading to the whereabouts of their son. Suspicion surrounding his disappearance is being
investigated, though no charges have been filed at this time.

  With her heart pounding out of control, and her pulse thumping in her temples, Jessica finished reading the article before moving on to another. And on it went. She wasn’t sure how long she sat there soaking up everything she could on the missing boy when the sound of a car door came from the drive.

  Jess glanced at the corner of the computer screen in shock. She’d been sitting there reading non-stop for the past three hours.

  “I’m home,” Owen announced as he came through the front door. “Jess?”

  Jessica closed the lid to the laptop, not wanting to reveal what she’d been reading. If Owen had any idea that she thought the boy she’d seen in that upstairs window was the missing child from thirteen years ago, he would think her crazy. Truth be told, she’d wondered the same thing herself.

  Chapter Nine

  Owen pulled on his running shoes, deciding to go for a jog while Jessica made dinner. He’d changed from his suit to a pair of gym shorts and a white tank top. “I’ll be back shortly.”

  Jessica scrambled around the kitchen with more energy than she’d displayed in years. “Burgers okay with you?”

  “That’s fine,” he assured her, getting to his feet. He stood next to the dining room table, watching her buzz about in the kitchen. “How are you feeling?”

  She slowed her steps but didn’t look back at him. “I’m good. Why do you ask?”

  Afraid to jinx her energetic mood, Owen ambled toward the front door and called out, “No reason. See you soon.”

  Once outside, he briskly strode toward the street. Several folks from the neighborhood were bustling about. Some mowing their lawns, while others dragged trashcans to the curbside. Kids rode their bikes, laughing and glancing over their shoulders to taunt the slower ones behind them.

  Owen lifted a hand to return the many waves sent his way and took off in a jog.

  In the brief time that he and Jess had been in Sparkleberry Hills, Owen had found it calming, if not downright soothing. He’d never realized that leaving the madness of the big city would bring him such peace. But that is exactly what had happened. He actually felt…peace.