The Darkness Knows by Cheryl Honigford Read Free Book Online Page A

story for another time,” he said as the car slowed to a stop. “This is your…house?”
    Vivian heard the strange lilt in his voice and glanced out the window, realizing she’d forgotten to warn him. Her circumstances, such as they were, usually surprised people.
    They’d arrived in front of a large, elaborately carved stone house at one of the toniest addresses on the Near North Side. The house, though much larger than her family had ever needed, was actually one of the smallest in the neighborhood. It was dwarfed on either side by much larger expressions of wealth in brick and stone, and the famed castle of Chicago scion Potter Palmer was only a few blocks away. The porch light burned brightly, but all of the interior windows were dark, the lace curtains still. It was well past eleven o’clock now, and Mrs. Graves, the elderly housekeeper, would have long since been in bed. Vivian’s mother was likely out at some society soiree.
    It was still difficult for Vivian to think of this monstrosity as her home. They’d moved here from an only slightly less stylish neighborhood in Lincoln Park not long before her father’s death seven years ago. He’d purchased the house from a former client who had hit hard times. A lot of people had hit hard times during the Depression, but her father, a prominent attorney, had flourished. Now that Vivian’s younger brother, Everett, was at Northwestern, just she and her mother were rattling around this ridiculous old place.
    â€œPretty grand,” Mr. Haverman said simply.
    â€œYes, well, it’s my mother’s house,” she answered. “I’m only staying here until…until I can get a place of my own.” The stone lions stared reproachfully at her from their perches on both sides of the massive stone staircase leading to the double-hung front door.
    â€œI see.”
    â€œWell, thank you for the ride, Mr. Haverman.” She extended her hand, and he shook it. “I very much appreciate it.”
    â€œI’ll walk you to the door.”
    â€œNo need—” she began, but he’d sprung out of the car before she could finish.
    They walked in silence, dry leaves crunching under their feet. The thunder seemed to be moving off into the distance, the promised rain skirting the city. The night had grown frosty, and Vivian pulled her flimsy jacket tighter around her shoulders, wishing she’d opted for something a little more substantial when she’d dressed that morning.
    Mr. Haverman unhooked the wrought iron gate and swung it open. He paused briefly in front of one of the stone lions, hands in his pockets, raising an eyebrow but saying nothing as Vivian hurried up the stairs. She pulled the key from her handbag as she went to unlock the thick mahogany door with a quick flick of her wrist. She turned on the threshold, already fantasizing about soaking in a nice, hot bath. Mr. Haverman took the wide limestone steps two at a time.
    â€œAgain, thank you for the lift home. Maybe I’ll see you around the station sometime?” Vivian tried to smile, but it was all she could do to keep her eyes from closing as she said her good-byes.
    â€œActually, I’d like to come in,” he said.
    Vivian’s mouth opened in reply, but words momentarily failed her. She searched her memory for anything she’d said during the drive that might have led Mr. Haverman to believe that she was anything but the most respectable of ladies.
    â€œPerhaps we can have a nightcap some other night, Detective.” Her voice was tipped with ice. He was charming, but this was a bit too forward. She held his gaze for a long second and then began to close the door, but the detective stopped it with his hand.
    â€œNo, Miss Witchell,” he said. “I don’t think you understand. You’re in danger.”

CHAPTER FIVE
    â€œMr. Hart wanted to keep this under wraps for as long as possible.” Mr. Haverman