Grim Shadows (Roaring Twenties) by Jenn Bennett Read Free Book Online

greeting when she dropped her handbag on the nightstand.
    “Hello, Number Four,” she said, running a hand along his soft belly. He answered with an enthusiastic purr.
    Because of her unusual curse, she’d never been allowed to have pets as a child. A necessary precaution, even now. God knew she wouldn’t normally even consider subjecting an innocent life to her murderous moods. But she didn’t seek out Number Four—she’d found him hiding in the pantry after she moved in. And though she’d tried to shoo him away, he just kept coming back, again and again, so she finally allowed the stubborn creature to stay.
    A few months ago, he was Number Three, until he was caught in the cross fire of a fight between her and her father: the cat had hidden under a chair the specters reduced to matchsticks. But just as he’d done the first two times he’d gotten on the wrong side of the specters, the cat managed to pick himself back up and simply kept on ticking.
    Nine lives, as the superstition goes. Seeing how he was on this fourth already, by her count, Hadley figured he had five more left. He was an odd sort of miracle, that cat of hers.
    A lot like her, really.
    She tried not to think about Lowe when she stripped off her clothes and tossed the ripped dress in a wastebasket. Unbelievable that she’d spent last night and most of today with him. The whole thing felt surreal to her now, like a dream. Or a gaudy nightmare.
    Stretching out on the bed with Number Four, she held up the found envelope to her reading lamp above the headboard. The silhouette of a key and a letter appeared against the golden light. She ripped off the side of the envelope and tipped it into her open palm. Her apartment key fell out. The metal was cold against her fist as she skimmed the handwritten letter from her latest maid:
Miss Bacall . . . Grateful for my time in your service . . . however, I must take my leave . . . My nerves are frayed . . . Feel as if the devil dwells inside you . . . bad luck . . . Will pray for you and that demonic cat.
    “Another servant bites the dust,” she said to Number Four. “Good riddance, you say? Why, Number Four, that’s not very nice. Then again, neither was Mrs. Durer, and she did call you demonic. We’ll contact the agency tomorrow and find someone less evangelical.”
    He purred in agreement.
    She wasn’t sad to see the woman go, exactly. But as she stared out the window past the city lights, she couldn’t help but think of Lowe and his boisterous family. From the train’s window, she’d watched the warm greeting they gave him, all hugs and smiles and laughter.
    No one had bothered to welcome her home. Her father probably hadn’t even remembered she’d left town. A shame that the only person who knew her comings and goings was the elevator operator.
    No, she wasn’t sad that another maid had quit. But she
was
sad that the old woman’s quick departure left Hadley alone in the middle of a busy city. And she was sad that it made her feel so needy. Not for the first time, she wished that she could come home and count on someone being there. A warm body. Another voice.
    Another soul.
    She thought of last night, and how she’d spent much of it listening to the even rhythm of Lowe’s breath as he slept peacefully on the berth across from her. How comforting it was to fall asleep to that sound.
    She clung to the memory of that feeling while she curled up in an empty room, in an empty apartment, with nothing but herself and a cat for company.

FOUR

    AFTER SLEEPING IN TENTS and dirty hotels for the better part of the year, Lowe found his beloved feather bed on the second floor of the Magnussons’ sprawling Queen Anne to be everything he’d remembered: luxurious, comforting, and safe. Moreover, his en suite bathroom was blessedly clean, the polished floors of his room smelled like orange oil, and all of his things were just as he’d left them. But after catching up with his family and