adalyn rayner (embracethestorm) wrote in shadows_rpg, @ 2020-02-16 15:57:00 |
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Entry tags: | #january 2018, adalyn, adalyn x nick, nick |
Who: Addie and Nick
When: late morning, Tuesday, Jan 16th
Where: Rayner Funeral Home
Status: Complete
Nick had explored a whole lot of Point Pleasant in the couple of months he’d been there, but there were still places he hadn’t been. He felt like he’d hit all the highlights when it came to supernatural weirdness, but he also knew it could lurk in unlikely places. Maybe most people wouldn’t consider a funeral home to be an unlikely place for paranormal activity, but Nick had found that they were generally pretty quiet. You got your occasional restless spirit, of course, but most deaths didn’t happen inside funeral homes -- they were just dealing with the leftovers.
Point Pleasant was a different animal though, and since the snow had stopped for now and the roads were clear, Nick felt like getting out and exploring. He’d been cooped up at Juniper and writing too much, he was getting restless. After he’d gotten himself some late breakfast, he drove over to the Rayner Funeral Home to pop in for a visit. He hadn’t been able to read much about the history of the place or the family that ran it, and he was curious to get a look around and ask some questions if they’d let him.
Nick found a place to park next to the big house, glancing around here and there as he walked up to the front door. Businesses that doubled as residential homes always threw him off a little -- to knock, or not? But it was within the business hours listed on the little plaque by the door, so Nick reached for the handle and let himself in.
Adalyn had spent the better part of the morning in the basement of the funeral home, preparing eighty-six year old Mrs. Livingston for her funeral the next morning. It took her two and a half hours to do most of the work, but Addie worked quickly and efficiently, not really feeling all that bad about her plans to prepare Mrs. Livingston for Elijah after the funeral services were over. Mr. Livingston wanted his wife cremated, which made the whole process so much simpler. No body exhumations to worry about, or any of that nonsense. He would get an urn, even if the ashes didn't belong to his wife. It was the symbolism of the urn that was the important thing, in Addie's mind. Not the contents.
She was showered and dressed by the time the funeral home was officially open, just in case someone wandered in, or a family member of the deceased came by to discuss things. But for the most part, Addie spent her days alone, or with Silas now that he was back. She supposed she ought to count her father, lying comatose above her, and her brother... or whatever that thing was now... existing below. Heaven and hell, and Addie was stuck somewhere in between.
She was setting up the chairs for Mrs. Livington's service, just to have something to do, when she heard the soft ring of the bell in the front parlor, indicating that someone had stepped inside. Leaving the chairs behind, Addie walked out of the showing room, smiling to greet her guest. It took her only a second to recognize the face, even though they had never met before.
"You're Nick Cooke," Adalyn exclaimed, her lips parting in surprise. He was tall. Really tall. At least compared to her. "Oh my god, I have all of your books. I mean all of them. A few I had to buy from a used bookstore because Amazon didn't have them, but those were your really early books, so I get it, but it was also kind of fun, like, tracking them all down. They're on my bookshelf upstairs, in order by publication, you know? It looks weird to me if they're not in order." Addie paused and brought both hands up to her chest quickly. "Oh god, I'm sorry. You lost someone. I'm so sorry, I'm rambling about your books and you're probably grieving. I'm so sorry. Is it Mrs. Livingston? Grandson? Nephew? She never mentioned having a famous author in the family so I didn't..." Jesus Christ. She needed to stop talking. Addie took a deep breath and lowered her arms. "I'm sorry."
Nick hadn’t wandered far, just peered around at the front room a bit, at the plants and the models of available urns on a shelf off to one side. All of it was very neat and somber and quiet, and Nick was pretty sure his feet sank into the plush rug about a half inch. He caught motion out of the corner of his eye and turned to greet the woman approaching him with a smile of his own. It only broadened when she instantly recognized him and started rambling, and Nick chuckled at a few spots as he let her finish. It wasn’t the first time he’d been recognized in this town, and it always surprised him a bit even if it probably shouldn’t. It never failed to be flattering, especially when someone was obviously a fan and not just a casual reader.
“Oh no, no,” he said quickly at the end, holding up his hands a bit as if to physically stop her thoughts. “I’m not a mourner, don’t know Mrs. Livingston or anybody else who might be here, I promise.” Nick gave her a smile. “This is more of a research-slash-curiosity visit. I am indeed Nick Cooke ... and you are?” He took a half-step forward toward the blonde lady and offered his hand to shake in greeting.
"Research," Addie repeated dumbly even as she moved toward him to take his hand. Oh, he had a nice grip. Big hands too. That was nice. But... research? Oh. "Oh! Research. You're writing." She studied his face, still incredibly ecstatic to be meeting him, but also curious now, and it didn't occur to Addie to let go of his hand. "I'm Adalyn Rayner. I mean, you can call me Adalyn. Or Addie. I mean, either one is okay, I answer to both. How long have you been in Point Pleasant? What kind of research are you doing?" She supposed she could understand the curiosity of a funeral home in a town like this. If Nick Cooke was here, writing, she figured he had heard all of the rumors. But the fan in her wanted her own answers now, and she was trying to comprehend that he was in her home, holding her hand - his grip was amazing - and she was just trying to focus on one thing in her head despite it being crowded with questions now.
Nick let her hold onto his hand for a moment, not minding that too much. She had nice hands that felt small in his. She was beautiful, and looked to be in her mid-twenties to him -- which was probably a little too young for him to be thinking she was beautiful, but whatever. “Nice to meet you, Adalyn,” Nick told her, giving her hand a little squeeze before he let go. He was already predicting he would be signing books before he left, another thing he definitely didn’t mind. “I’ve been here for a couple of months now, doing the legwork for a new book or two. This town is fascinating, there’s so much to look into. I feel remiss that I haven’t stopped by here before, but I figured today was the day. Am I taking you away from anything? I can always come back ...” He tossed a glance around. The place seemed to be deserted except for them, but a grieving family could be due any minute.
Nick Cooke had been in Point Pleasant for a couple of months and she hadn't known it. He had been just walking around this tiny, boring town, looking like that and writing things. How had she not known? If Silas had been here, he would have known, and then she would have known. But work and family had taken up so much of her time, and the occasional bad date. Well, it didn't matter. Addie was meeting him now. The town was fascinating, she supposed, at least to outsiders. When he let go of her hand, Addie had to resist touching his chest because... well. Her fingers itched to do it, so she clutched her hands together and shook her head quickly. "No, I was just setting up some chairs for a service we have tomorrow. I'm completely yours." Addie felt her face burn and she laughed awkwardly and shook her head. "I mean, not like that, obviously. Just, if you want to have a tour? Or... ask questions. Or both? Both is fine. Though we're a pretty standard funeral home. It's not terribly exciting here." Unless he wanted to go downstairs, but Addie couldn't do that, and even if she did, Silas would probably lecture her about it.
Nick had to smile again at her little faux pas, charmed by the way she drew attention to it all on her own. He wasn’t sure if it was his presence making her nervous or if that was just how she was. Either way, it was kind of cute. There didn’t seem to be anything standard about Point Pleasant, as far as Nick’s experience had gone so far, and he wouldn’t have been surprised to find the same was true about its funeral home. “I would love a tour, if you have the time and inclination,” he told her, his tone warm and interested. “Your family founded this place, didn’t they? The Rayners? I would love to hear some about the history of it all.” It wasn’t the first funeral home that Nick had been in for work purposes instead of grieving ones, and he always found them interesting, no matter how supernaturally quiet they were. How people handled death in any sense always fascinated him. And now he was interested in this petite woman who lived in and ran one.
Adalyn took a breath as he spoke, willing herself to calm down. She just didn't get a lot of surprises in Point Pleasant. Not good surprises, anyway. And meeting someone who wrote some of her favorite books was definitely a good surprise. She just needed to remember he was a person, and she was a person and she needed to stop acting like a total spaz. "I have both," Addie replied with a smile. "The time, and the inclination. There's not much to see, but I'll try to make it as interesting as I can." She motioned for him to follow, thankful that the cleaning team had been there over the weekend.
"My great-grandfather founded the place, and it just naturally got passed down to my father over time. He's fallen ill, so now it's mine. Well, mine and my brother, Silas. I've been running this place for a few years now." She led him into the gathering area. It was a great room with a divider, and was currently in the process of being set up for the funeral the next day. Addie felt more comfortable now that she was talking about work and her family's history. Her nervous energy had dulled considerably. "There had been another funeral home in Point Pleasant before us. It was located right on the edge of town, but the owner... well, there was a murder-suicide that took place there, and the owner's children had the place knocked down before they left town. My great-grandfather saw an opportunity, though he called it a calling, and he converted the house into what it is now. Obviously we've had renovations and a couple additions, but the house has been in our family for generations."
Nick walked along with Adalyn, looking around curiously as they passed through a room or two in the large house. It was obviously a place that was well kept-up and cared for, and Nick idly wondered what kind of money they pulled in from a place like Point Pleasant. Not that he would fault them for it -- it was a needed business in any area, this one just happened to have more need than most, statistically speaking. He knew it would be completely gauche to ask though, so he wasn’t going to. “Ah yes, I remember reading that about the former mortician’s family,” he said, his hands slipping into the pockets of his jacket. “That sounded like quite a tragedy.” Nick’s gaze swept over all the chairs and the flower arrangements that were waiting at the front of the room, and briefly pondered just how many people had passed through there. His gaze came back to Adalyn as another tidbit sank in. “I’m sorry to hear about your father,” he added. “I hope he recovers. Does your brother have a hand in running the business as well?”
Nick wouldn't have been the first person to ask about their profits, and Addie had never been offended by the question. She never answered it either, but she understood the curiosity. Point Pleasant was a small town but it kept the Rayner Funeral Home quite busy. They were comfortable financially, and that was all anyone needed to know. She led him down the hall towards the stairs that descended into the basement. The floor had long since been renovated into the mortuary and a few supply rooms. And of course... the room where the thing that had once been her brother lived, but that was tucked away in a corner on the other side of the house and she had no intention of taking Nick that far back. "Thank you. He's doing well physically, he's just... reluctant to wake up, I guess." She gave Nick a small smile and tugged her sleeves down her hands a bit as she motioned for him to follow her down the wide stairs. "Silas has been living in Bangor for a while, but after our father had his stroke, he moved back home to help out, so yeah, he's doing a lot around here now too. If we catch him before you leave, I'll introduce you. So, the morgue is down here. My brother told me that showing off the mortuary to people was morbid and strange so I guess I should have asked you if you even wanted to see that part of the house."
It was only reasonable to conclude that the morgue was in the basement, and Nick felt no hesitation as he walked down the steps with Adalyn, his gaze still roaming around curiously. He wouldn’t have gotten very far in his investigative career if dead bodies freaked him out, and he felt no fear when the air got a tiny bit colder as they descended into the lower level. He wondered idly if this brother Silas was as oddly adorable as his sister was, or if he fit in with this environment more. That was probably stereotyping, but whatever. Nick laughed softly at the last part of what she said and gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m definitely interested to see it, so no worries there,” he told her. “I’m not squeamish. I wouldn’t have my career otherwise, morbid and strange is my jam. ... not that I’m asking to see one of your guests or anything ghoulish like that, just don’t worry about me freaking out about being down here. How was it growing up here? Assuming you did, of course.”
Addie felt a subtle sort of thrill when Nick said he wanted to see the morgue. She had always thought that particular room would be her in with people back in high school, like it was something everyone would be clamoring to see. She would let them come inside, freak themselves out and then that would trigger the beginning of some kind of friendship. Unfortunately, it seemed to be more that her classmates thought Addie was inviting them over so she could lock them all in the freezers or something. Living in a funeral home and having a mortician as a father had doomed Addie socially from the beginning. Eventually, she learned to lean into it and embrace it. Like Nick, she wasn't squeamish at all. To her, death was just a part of being human.
"If morbid and strange is your jam, then you've come to the right town," Addie said, leading him toward the wide steel doors ahead. "Growing up in a funeral home was normal to me. I saw my first dead body when I was six. People were always coming and going, so I saw things. Heard things. But, it taught me that death didn't have to be scary. It could be beautiful. That's what I try to do here." Addie paused outside the doors, her palms pressed against the steel. "Or did you mean how was it growing up in this town?"
She looked so petite to him against those big industrial-looking doors, and what she said was oddly endearing. Or maybe not so oddly. Back in high school, before he’d experienced what he’d experienced, Nick would’ve been one of those people who wrote Adalyn Rayner off as the weirdo morbid girl. He knew so much more now than he had at that age, and the idea of treating death with respect and honor was really lovely to him. “I meant here in the funeral home,” he answered, giving her another smile. “I’ve heard plenty about growing up in this town, believe me. Feels like I’ve struck gold here, writing wise. But it sounds like you’re fighting the good fight in your own way, I greatly respect that. People don’t like to think that they’ll ever end up in a place like this, but all of us eventually pass through doors like this. If we’re lucky, at least.”
He seemed to get it, and Addie appreciated that. This wasn't just some hunt for the macabre. And hell, even if it was, at least Nick Cooke seemed to respect the dead. So many people didn't. The annoying, naggy voice in the back of her head seemed to remind her what she did with the dead sometimes, but Addie ignored it as best she could. That was about survival, more than anything else. And she hadn't chosen that path, her father had. Addie was just the one dealing with the consequences of it. "Oh, you'll probably get enough stories to write an entire series if you stay long enough," Adalyn said, and she hoped he took that to heart because it would be amazing if Nick Cooke stayed in Point Pleasant indefinitely. She was already having fantasies about reading his unpublished manuscripts and giving him advice and all of those ridiculous things. Clearly she needed to get out more.
Addie pushed gently at the doors and they began to swing open automatically. Mrs. Livingston was still on the table, so Addie walked over to pull the sheet up over her head. "This is where, well, everything gets done. The preservation and embalming. I have weeks where I'm practically living down here. It can get to you mentally if you let it. You're probably hoping for some eerie stories of this place, right?"
“That’s the hope,” Nick murmured as Adalyn pushed the doors open. He wasn’t sure how long he wanted to stay in Point Pleasant, but considering everything he’d seen of the town so far, it was difficult to think about leaving with so much work unfinished. Even if the Organization didn’t need him to do much else there, now that they’d deployed real agents, there truly was a metric ton of book fodder seemingly just lying around. It made Nick wonder a bit if other writers had just missed this place or what. He walked into the cool room behind the blonde and his eyes were instantly drawn to the body on the table. Nick averted his gaze just as quickly, more out of respect than anything else, and he was a bit relieved when Adalyn covered up the dead woman’s face. He ambled a few steps toward the cold storage lockers built into the wall. “I didn’t quite presume to hope for anything in particular, but if you’ve got any stories to share ...?” he said, looking back at Adalyn with a little grin. “Though given the logic of this place, I wouldn’t be surprised if this is the quietest spot in town.”
Addie's smile was quick and genuine and she nodded as she stepped away from the body, bringing her arms up to cross against her chest. It was cold down there. "You nailed it. This is definitely a quiet space. I think the scariest thing to happen in this room was when I was thirteen and hid in one of the fridges to scare my brother, but I accidentally got locked in. Thankfully my dad wasn't far behind with a new arrival and he got me out. But... the lengths a sister will go to scare the shit out of her brother... I learned my lesson on that real fast." She chewed her lip for a moment before nodding to the doors leading back into the hall. "Out there though, there have been some oddities. Simple things mostly. Lights flickering on and off. Cold spots. Colder than this. I've seen my breath a few times walking down the halls. I've heard footsteps. Seen shadows. I guess all of that could be in my head, considering my line of work, but it seems silly to be around the dead all day and not understand that they sometimes linger. Do you want to see the rest of the house?"
He chuckled over her story of trying to scare her brother, thinking that it sounded like something he would’ve done himself at that age. It was a little satisfying to hear that there was some activity in the house, but Nick wasn’t terribly surprised to hear that the actual morgue was peaceful. The rest of what Adalyn described sounded pretty benign, compared to a lot of stories he’d heard. If the Rayner family hadn’t been such good caretakers of the dead, that might not be the case. Or there was some sort of protection set up on this house, which also wouldn’t have surprised him in a town this full of anomalies. “Denial is a powerful thing, it’s good to see that you’re not trapped in it,” Nick said, giving Adalyn another dimpled smile. “And that you haven’t had to deal with anything too bad. Yeah, I would love to see more if you’re sure I’m not intruding ...”
Writing the kind of books he wrote, Addie sort of wished she had more terrifying stories to tell him. What if he got bored and never came back? That would suck. But the only truly scary story she could possibly tell him about lived down the hall and Addie could only imagine how that would go over. She had to be careful not to get too caught up in those dimples because ugh, it would be so easy to spill everything when he smiled at her like that. "Denial is the only way some people maintain their sanity here," Addie said with a small shrug. Then she returned his smile, her face warming a bit. "And you're so not intruding, are you kidding? This is like, the most exciting thing that's happened to me in a long time. Come on." She motioned for him to follow, pressing the square button beside the doors to open them. "This was all added after it became a mortuary," she explained, gesturing down the hall that held several closed doors. "We're underground you know, but the back doors lead out into the side of the parking lot. That's where the bodies are delivered. Oh!" Addie bounced lightly on her heels and looked at Nick expectantly, her eyes shimmering with something akin to excitement. "Do you want to see the cremator? We also have a pressure vessel for alkaline hydrolysis, which is a pretty new way of breaking down remains. I mean, new in that it wasn't legal in Maine until... oh, about ten years ago? Do you want to see?"
Nick laughed a bit at the first part, because if he was the most exciting thing to happen to her in a long time, she truly needed to get out more. Or be taken out more. She was pretty cute, and obviously adult enough to run a funeral home by herself. And hey, he was totally single again, so maybe he would end up collecting more than just stories before he left this place. Not his intention going in, but life had funny surprises sometimes. Nick followed Adalyn again, then raised his brows when she looked at him, his expression keen and interested. “I’d love to,” he told her, sincere in that. He’d been in several morgues before, but never a crematorium. “And how’s that work? The alka-hydro-whatever? I’ve never heard of it before.” Not that he would have much reason to, but now he was curious.
Addie had never shown anyone the crematorium before so she led Nick down the hallway, trying to contain her excitement. It wasn't morbid, not to her. But it was such a fascinating process to her that she could never understand why some people were so averse to hearing about it. "Alkaline hydrolysis," she said again, smiling at him as they came to another wide door. This particular door had a keypad and she punched in her number, causing the door to open automatically like the last room. The light came on automatically and Addie led him inside. To the left were two larger cremation chambers. To the right was the pressure vessel that Addie had mentioned. It was the largest room in the house, beyond the showing room upstairs.
"Basically instead of burning the body in the cremation chambers, we use the pressure vessel, which is basically water pressure, heat and lye, which breaks down the body and dissolves it. The bones get crushed into powder after the fact and we return those to the families, like cremation remains. It's not really cremation, but we use the term because it's just easier for people to grasp that concept than saying we're going to dissolve your loved one's remains, you know? It takes less time, and it's actually better for the environment. A green option, so to speak. Something to keep in mind for the future," she said jokingly before grimacing and shaking her head. "Sorry. I sometimes forget joking about death isn't funny. It's not. I just... do it a lot. Sort of a coping thing, I guess? Anyway, usually when we explain the process to people, a lot of them seem on board with it, but we have traditionalists too. Apparently it's easier to think of your loved one burning in fire than dissolving in water. Everything has their thing, I guess."
Nick listened to her describe the process, intrigued. He noted the keypad entry and wondered if that was some kind of state regulation or something the Rayner family had installed on their own. Given the number of people who were murdered and went missing in this town, Nick wouldn’t have been surprised if it was the latter. Not that he thought the family was getting rid of bodies, but if people with ill intent knew there was a place to break into to destroy evidence ... all of that was just conjecture, of course, it could’ve been totally normal. Nick looked around the big room with plenty of ‘morbid’ interest, slowly walking the length of it beside Adalyn. “That’s fascinating,” he told her genuinely. “I mean, I can see how some people wouldn’t be comfortable with it, humans have been using fire for millenia to deal with our dead. Something new-fangled is harder for folks to accept. How long does it usually take? With the hydrolysis? ... and seriously, I am not easily offended, especially not by gallows humor, so don’t worry about it.” Nick dimpled at her again. Maybe it was all just whistling in the dark, but he enjoyed people who could joke about dark things.
Addie had been the one to convince her dad to put in the keypad as added security measures in town. She was afraid that someone in Point Pleasant would try to use the furnaces for malicious reasons, but... this was also a room where she had to break down the bodies for Elijah, and it was much better to have that extra security to ensure no one walked in on her who shouldn't. It was convenience, because once she had what she needed from the bodies, they could go into the furnace or pressure vessel and it was done. Addie brushed her hair back behind her ears, nodding along to Nick's observations. "Cremation is a cultural thing for a lot of people, so we respect that. We just like to make sure they know there are other options. The hydrolysis takes about two to three hours from start to finish. Cremation can take up to six hours, depending on the body, and then you have to process the remains after."
She relaxed, knowing he wasn't offended by her humor. Sometimes she didn't think before something came out of her mouth and Addie had suffered the consequences of it in the past. But he was smiling and she could see the dimples under the facial hair and it made her feel like she could talk about body decomposition for hours. Which she wouldn't, but she could. "It's interesting, because bodies usually take up to twelve years to decompose in the ground if they're buried intact, right? And hydrolysis basically does the exact same thing mother nature does, but in a few hours. It's crazy. But it's only legal in a handful of states so far. I don't know. I think this will be the norm in about twenty years. I think people just need to move beyond the past and understand there are more efficient ways to do things. So hey, if you ever want to write a story about a serial killer, just make them a mortician with a pressure vessel. No one would ever find the bodies."
Nick was picking up all sorts of interesting facts from this girl. Woman, he internally corrected himself. She was a grown woman who obviously knew her business, even if she looked about five feet tall to him. It was probably comforting to the grieving families who came through this place, to have such a sweet-looking unimposing woman working with them to handle affairs. That was his guess, anyway. He let out a low whistle at how fast the other process worked, then nodded along with the rest of what Adalyn said. The last bit made him laugh again and he shot her a little wink. “I prefer to write nonfiction, but I wouldn’t be surprised if that had been done somewhere out in the real world ... not here of course,” he hurried to say. He’d heard some horror stories about what cheap funeral homes did with the bodies they were entrusted with, but he got a good feeling that Adalyn actually cared, and he was sure her family did too. “Are you a writer yourself?” he asked her. “Write what you want to read, they say. You definitely have the technical expertise.”
Honestly, Addie couldn't remember the last person who actually listened to her talk about her job. Silas, obviously, but he already knew all of this stuff. Nick seemed genuinely interested, and even if it was just for book material, it was still such a nice change of pace having someone down here that wasn't mourning a lost loved one. "Oh, there are a lot of horror stories out there about some mortuaries." And Addie was positive that this funeral home could quite easily be a part of those stories, but she did her best not to think about any of that. Nothing she had to do was because she was cheap, or sinister. It was... survival, she supposed. At least for her father and the thing that was once her brother. That was a story Nick would probably be horrified by, and then write it in his books. "But I've never heard of any belonging to a serial killer. I'm definitely not a writer. I know a lot of technical stuff, but the creative gene seemed to have skipped me entirely. I love to read though. Obviously." She tried not to beam at him, or fawn. That would be so off-putting, she was sure. "You should see my bedroom. It's just wall to wall bookshelves. It's a nice escape from my line of work, which I need sometimes. Is that what you do, though? Write what you'd want to read?"
Nick thought she might be selling herself short -- there were all kinds of ways to be creative, and most people were good at something, or at least found it enjoyable, which was a big part of the point. But he wasn’t going to grill her about her hobbies. “Maybe you’ve never heard of one because they haven’t gotten caught yet,” Nick suggested with a little grin. Yes, he had a morbid sense of humor too, when he knew he was in good company. Like Adalyn had said, sometimes that was the only way to survive in this world. He saw the opportunity to flirt and ask to see her bedroom, but Nick didn’t want to make her uncomfortable while they were in an isolated area, so he let it pass by. “I would say I do that somewhat, yeah,” he answered her question. “I mean, I eat up books that are well-researched and interesting and about the paranormal, and that’s what I aim to write, so ...” He shrugged one shoulder. “What else do you like to read? What fills those bookshelves?”
Addie's brows lifted and she laughed. "That's true. And of course they wouldn't be caught yet. Or maybe someone out there is suspicious, but without a body, I mean... how can they prove anything? That's a story waiting to happen, if you ever decide you want to write some fiction." Maybe there was already a book out there like it and Addie just hadn't discovered it yet. It really did feel like there were no original ideas anymore. Anything she could come up with had no doubt already been done. She desperately wanted to ask him more questions about his writing, but it suddenly felt weird to do in the middle of a room with two cremation chambers and a vessel where she dissolved bodies. And he had sort of opened the door for her to show him all of her books, which was something else she got kind of geeky about. But since Nick hadn't made her feel like she was annoying him to death, Addie decided to jump on it. "Oh! I like to read... well, come on, I'll show you," she said, gesturing for him to follow as she headed for the door. "And you can see the rest of the house on the way. I've never really focused on just one genre. Fiction, non-fiction, whatever strikes me as interesting. You like to read well-researched books about the paranormal, but do you have any guilty pleasures?" Addie stepped out into the hall, waiting for Nick to join her so she could make sure the door shut all the way behind them. "Poetry? Historical romance? Thrillers?"
While Nick enjoyed reading fiction, he wasn’t sure he wanted to write it, at least not under his current pseudonym. If people knew he made shit up for extra paychecks on the side, they might not trust his nonfiction work as much. That was just how people’s minds worked. He didn’t belabor the point though, falling into step as Adalyn escorted him out of the room. Nick got a silly little thrill when she volunteered to show him her bedroom shelves, and while he could pass it off as just book-nerd excitement -- he did love to peruse the libraries of others -- he was honest enough with himself to admit part of the fun was the location. He hadn’t been in a lovely woman’s bedroom since he and Mads had broken things off. Nick certainly didn’t expect anything, but why not enjoy the little peek he was going to get into her life. He walked out of the crematorium, paused while the door closed, then headed with Adalyn down the hall. “Oh man, I wish my guilty pleasure was that cool,” he said with an easy laugh. “I do like some thillers, yeah. Tom Clancy type stuff bores the shit out of me, but I’ll devour a Gillian Flynn. My true guilty pleasure is fantasy novels. Like sword and sorcery stuff. It’s so cheesy but so fun.”
Addie knew there was a possibility that Silas would be home now, but she kind of hoped that he wasn't. Not because she planned on trying her hand at seducing Nick or anything, but she didn't want to share him either and she could just imagine Silas tagging along on the rest of the tour, or being curious himself. And who wouldn't be curious about Nick Cooke? Even if Silas didn't know who he was, the man was gorgeous and built and Silas might want to enjoy that himself for a bit too. "Oh I love Gillian Flynn. Damaged women with dark pasts are my favorite," Addie admitted. "Throw in a dysfunctional family and I'm hooked. I'm not big on political thrillers, although I do love a good murder mystery. Fictional ones, anyway. I've only read a little bit of fantasy over the years. The Lord of the Rings? Although I feel like everyone has read that. I like Neil Gaiman a lot. I've read some Philip Pullman and Terry Pratchett. But I've never done a deep dive into fantasy that wasn't something I had to hide under my mattress." Walking up the stairs, Addie noted that the rest of the house sounded quiet, and she hadn't heard the bell ring while they had been downstairs. So it was pretty safe to say they were still alone. "Do you want anything to drink?" she asked suddenly, aghast at herself for failing to offer earlier. "Oh god, I'm a terrible hostess. I'm sorry. That's usually the first thing I do when people come in, but then it was you and I got kind of stupid."
She was definitely a talker, which was kind of fun for Nick. His work had him spending a good deal of time listening to people, but he was also expected to talk a lot, and he honestly preferred to listen. Which he was having ample opportunity to do now, talking to Adalyn. It was actually pretty adorable. “Pullman and Gaiman and Pratchett are good, for sure,” he said as they walked up the steps. “If you haven’t read any Ursula K. Le Guin, you really should, she’s amazing. I grew up reading a lot of Eddings, but they’re really dated now.” He had to laugh a bit at her catching her own faux pas, she just looked so horrified. “No, see, you’re the perfect hostess, because if you’d asked me when I first got here I would’ve said no. But now I am kinda thirsty, yeah. Anything that’s not too much trouble.” Considering the time, Nick was assuming she meant water or tea or something, but he wouldn’t turn down a drink-drink either if she offered him one. Since he was apparently staying for something to sip on, Nick finally shrugged out of his leather coat, shifting his shoulders a bit to re-settle the long-sleeved dark blue shirt underneath.
Addie filed away the name Le Guin, thinking maybe she would make a trip to the library later in the week. At least then she would have a reason to track him down again, with a new book in her hand, which they could then chat about. Over coffee, or dinner. Or a drink. Addie tried not to look him over when he took off his coat, but he looked even better without it. Her face felt hot all of the sudden and she smiled, trying to ignore it. "It's definitely not too much trouble. The kitchen is this way," she said once they reached the first floor landing. "I have so many dated books upstairs, but I grew up reading so many of them that they still mean a lot to me, you know? So we have water, tea, soda and some juice. We have alcohol too, if... I don't know what time it is," she admitted. "It might still be too early for that, I guess? I think there's an acceptable time of the day to start drinking drinking. Noon, maybe? Four something, four twenty?... although I think that's pot." She wrinkled her nose thoughtfully before walking into the kitchen. "So yeah, whatever you want?"
Nick still liked to wear a watch even if he didn’t strictly need it in the modern age, and he checked the time when Adalyn asked, amused that she’d had the same thought he did. “It’s around 11:45, so ... probably a little early for it,” he said with a sheepish sort of grin. He had to drive anyway, and once he started on mimosas he tended to have a few. “So just tea would be great.” He looked around the kitchen as they entered, appreciating that it was big but looked fairly normal. The blend of residence and business was rather interesting. “And four twenty is definitely a weed thing. I try to stay respectable and not drink or smoke until noon at least. Unless, it’s a day at the lake,” he added, wagging a finger a bit. “If you’re on a boat in the sun you have to have a beer, I don’t make the rules.”
"Well, you know, noon is in like, fifteen minutes if you hold out long enough." Addie teased. "But I'll remember that about the boat. I haven't been on a boat in years, which is kind of ridiculous, considering I live so close to a marina. I wonder how many people go out on their boats in the morning just so they can justify having a beer. Although most of the boats in the marina are owned by people with plenty of money, so they probably just drink whenever they want, because, well, they have money so they can do whatever they want." She grabbed the tea kettle from the stove to fill with hot water before turning back to Nick. "Did you want hot tea, or iced tea, because I have both. If you want hot tea, I have all kinds of flavors. Iced tea is... one flavor." Addie shook her head to try to get the idiot part of her brain to shut up. "Unfortunately I don't have any weed to offer, but if that's your thing, I'll be sure to have some the next time you come around, just in case."
“Damn, that’s just the height of hospitality,” Nick said with a laugh. It was nice to be in a state where it was legal, even though that was a relatively new thing in Maine. He found a chair to hang his coat over so he didn’t have to carry it around everywhere, but didn’t sit down since they were presumably still going exploring throughout the house. “Hot tea would be perfect, if you don’t mind.” Adalyn had already gotten the kettle filled, so he thought maybe she didn’t. Nick would’ve drank iced tea if that was what she handed him, but on a day like this, hot tea sounded better. “Green, if you’ve got it. You haven’t been on a boat in years though? That’s a shame. I haven’t been over there to look into it since it’s winter and all, but once the weather turns if I’m still here I’d love to charter one to play around with. I grew up near a lake, so I was always out on the water in some way, loved it since I was a kid.”
"Hospitality is definitely one of my strengths," Addie said, laughing as she placed the kettle on the stove and got the burner lit. There was a slim wooden box on the counter that she pulled towards her to open and find the green tea bags. They always tried to have an abundance of them available for guests. She kept busy, taking down two mugs from the cabinet, along with honey, if he liked to sweeten his tea. "I've always loved going to the marina, but it's just one of those things. I haven't really had a reason to rent a boat, and I don't know the people who own them well enough to be invited out on one. I loved walking the marina during the holiday though, seeing all of the Christmas lights on the boats. It was so pretty." She tore open the chamomile vanilla tea for herself. "The water here is usually too cold to really swim in, even in the summer, but I've always thought it would be fun to take a boat out and just, dive off, you know? Somewhere secluded where you didn't have to share the water with anyone else. I have all these things in my head that I would like to do but then you know, people die all the time here, so I'm just always working." She set the tea bags in the mugs and then turned to look at Nick. "Do you want honey? Sugar? I have some sweeteners too, if you like that stuff. Where did you grow up? I mean, if you don’t me asking you personal questions."
The bit about the water temperature was a little disappointing to hear, even though it didn’t surprise him. He’d never tried to swim in the ocean this far north. Nick wondered if it was really that bad, or if one could get used to it. Maybe he would find out. “Just honey is fine,” he told her. “And I don’t mind at all -- I’m in your house asking you personal questions, so fair’s fair. I grew up in Georgia, around Decatur. ... which is right next to Atlanta.” Nick chuckled a bit. A lot of people didn’t know the geography of states they didn’t live in. “I spent a lotta summers in Stone Mountain Lake, it was east of us and gorgeous. Maybe I can take you out on the water sometime, we can drink beer and read books in the sun.” Nick offered her a grin. It was presumptive, of course, and could be taken just as light conversation, but the picture in his head was nice. “Sounds like you could use a break. Before summer, of course, just sayin’.”
Addie remembered she had read he was from Georgia in his author blurb in the back of his books, but it was nice to know exactly where. She had never been outside of Maine, except for a few family vacations they took when she was very young. Addie barely remembered them, so she didn't think that counted. Of course it was hard to really think about any of that when Nick Cooke was offering to take her out on the water. On a boat. With him. Her stomach felt all fluttery, and her pulse was quick and jumpy, but Addie forced herself not to immediately jump on the offer, because he might not actually mean it. She knew some people said things like that just to be nice. Instead, she tried to play it cool by glancing at him with a smile as she opened the pantry to pull out the honey container. "Anytime you want company out on the water, feel free to give me a call. There's nothing like reading outside on a sunny day. And if Point Pleasant waters disappoint you, there's a lake about an hour from here. Branch Lake? They have camping and hiking... all of that outdoors stuff. You look like you like the outdoors. Sometimes it's nice to just step outside the town for a bit, you know?"
“I do enjoy all of those,” Nick admitted with a little laugh. He reached up to rub at the beard on his jaw. “But the lumberjack look probably has something to do with it.” He knew he looked like he belonged in a Brawny commercial or something, especially when he wore flannel. Nick didn’t mind giving off a burly, manly vibe, especially considering that he didn’t actually do any physical labor for a living. He had to have something going for his masculinity, right? Even if it was just lazy facial hair, good genes, and a good workout routine. “Branch Lake, huh? I’ll have to check it out sometime. I know it’s January in Maine but I’m starting to get cabin fever with all this snow. And the town can be ... oppressive. So yeah I get that. I’m sure it’s even more stressful for you, having to ... clean up the messes, so to speak.” Nick gave a sympathetic little wince, unsure if those were good words, but they were out there now.
Addie set the honey down beside the mugs and hoped she hadn't somehow pegged him as something he wasn't just based on his looks. Yes, she was imagining him in the woods wearing nothing but really worn jeans and chopping up wood with an ax. He could probably do that without a problem, but he might not like doing things like that. Nick didn't seem offended or anything though, and he did say he enjoyed outdoorsy stuff so maybe she was close enough. "Oppressive is definitely the right word for this place. And the weather. I grew up here, so maybe I've just acclimated myself to it all. It definitely seems harder for some people. During the winter we seem pretty much cut off from the rest of civilization and if you don't get out a lot, or have a lot of people to spend time with, it gets pretty isolating." The kettle was starting to steam. "Honestly, it's not as stressful for me as you might think. It had been for the past few weeks after my dad had his stroke, because that left only me to take care of everything, including him. But Silas is back now, so... I have some breathing room." Addie smiled a little and turned to pull the kettle off the burner so she could pour the hot water into their mugs. "Although, I am more than willing to give you a sad story about being the town's cleaning lady if that encourages you to take me out on a boat. Or to dinner. Or whatever. Do you like a lot of honey or just a spoonful? I usually just squeeze the bottle until it feels right."
Nick thought he could make it through one Point Pleasant winter, but he wasn’t sure about staying long-term with this kind of weather. Who really knew, though. He was a rolling stone and all that. He was just thinking that it was good Adalyn was getting more free time now when she brought up the boat or dinner. Nick grinned and wondered if the immediate pivot into asking about honey was on purpose or just the way her brain seemed to feed directly to her mouth with no filter in between. Talking to stream-of-consciousness people could be either really annoying or really entertaining, and so far Adalyn was the latter. Nick ambled over closer to her before he answered, reaching out to pick up the honey bottle. “That’s usually what I do too,” he said, half-smiling at her. “So don’t worry about it, you don’t have to squeeze for me.” His smile broadened. This was not at all how he’d expected this little field trip to go, but for all its flaws this town had some lovely surprises, didn’t it? “I’m glad you can breathe,” Nick went on. “So that means I can take you out sometime, way before boating weather. If you’d like, of course.”
Addie had always had an issue with the lack of filter in her brain. She hadn't really cared much about it until the last few years, when she started working more closely with her father and the grief-stricken people who walked through their doors. Addie really had to focus during those meetings, and it took a lot of energy and thought. Oddly enough she felt like she could just be herself in front of Nick Cooke. Probably because she had read his books so many times and was such a big fan, that it felt like she knew him, even though she didn't, and he certainly didn't know her. He hadn't made a hasty exit or anything, so maybe she wasn't completely blowing it. Addie set the kettle down, acutely aware now of his presence now that he was standing beside her. He was so tall. And built. She was betting he had absolutely no problem in picking up women like they weighed nothing. His comment about squeezing prompted Addie to grin, a giggle sort of catching in her throat as her face grew hot again. Having a pale complexion generally sucked, because it was always obvious when she was blushing. "I'd like to do that, yes. Go out, I mean. Not the squeezing part... of the bottle. The honey bottle. You can take me out anytime you want. I mean, assuming no one's died. Crossing my fingers." Which she did, with both hands, and then she found a spoon quickly in the drawer to stir in the honey. "Have you explored the rest of the town then? You said you've been here a couple of months... or have you mostly been writing?"
Nick watched the tea start to steep, pretty brown tendrils curling off of the bag into the hot water. He flicked the honey bottle open with this thumb and squeezed a good amount of it into his mug, then set it down again in Adalyn’s reach. He plucked the spoon from her hand to start stirring, not minding when his fingers brushed hers just a bit. “I’ve explored a lot, written a lot, done a lot of interviews and spent an inordinate amount of time at the library,” he said, giving her a glance. “It’s a fascinating place. I think I’ve hit all the highlights that get talked about the most, but I’m always open to suggestions if you know any more out of the way spots that might be interesting.” Nick finished with the spoon, popping it into his mouth to give it a quick suck to clean it off, then offered it back to Adalyn with a smirk that wasn’t at all innocent. “As a native and a believer, I’d love to pick your brain,” he murmured.
Addie was not terribly well versed in the art of flirtation, but she recognized it when she saw it. And he was definitely flirting. God, she hoped no one else showed up for a while. Could someone not die for maybe the next hour or so? That would be nice. She picked up the honey to squeeze a generous amount into her own mug, amazing at how much he had gotten done in Point Pleasant since arriving. But if his entire job was writing without any other obligations, it made sense. He was working. As soon as she set the plastic bear down on the counter, she watched him suck the spoon and offer it back to her. Anyone else might be grossed out, but all Addie could think about was how he might be good at licking other things. How was she supposed to focus when her entire body was practically throbbing? Addie took the spoon and used it to stir her tea, watching as the water turned a pretty golden color. She could just hear Silas saying ew in her head. "My brain loves to be picked," she told him, popping the spoon into her mouth to suck off the flavor herself before she reached past him to drop it into the sink. "And by the highlights I'm sure you mean the tunnel, the bridge and the old Zinneman house on Ludlow, right? Oh, and the cemetery, duh. But I mean... obviously the cemetery." She picked up her mug and then touched his arm as she walked past him. "Come on, I'll show you my book collection. And there are definitely other places in town that had had some horrible things happen in and around them. Supposedly. I'm a believer, but I know that not every story is a true one. Have you been to the Fallows yet?"
Pulling that sort of stunt with a spoon was always risky, considering how many germaphobes were out there. Nick wouldn’t have blamed her if she’d gotten a fresh one, but Adalyn played right along. She had to be in her mid-twenties at least, right? Maybe he ought to show more caution, but hell, you only lived once. Might as well enjoy the things that made you feel good, especially in a place like this. Nick watched her clean off the spoon with his own warm little throb and picked up his hot mug for a first cautious sip. It burned a little, but in a pleasant way. “I’ve been to the cemetery and the lighthouse, bridge, tunnel, yeah ... not the house on Ludlow though, what did you call it?” Nick walked along with Adalyn, looking over at her with interest. “I heard of the Fallows, but I haven’t been there in person yet. Is there anything to see there, or does its reputation just come from the things that have happened there?” He lifted his mug for another sip.
Addie had been throwing caution to the wind for a very long time. She liked things that made her feel good, especially when she was so often surrounded by sadness. Sometimes people embraced it, and sometimes it weirded them out, but Addie tended to think people would be so much happier if they started seeking out things that made them happy instead of being overly cautious. Life was too short to hesitate. That's what she believed anyway. "The Zinneman house," Addie said again, holding her with her sleeves pulled down over her palms as not to burn them as they headed for the staircase. "It's this old decrepit place over there. I mean, a lot of the houses on Ludlow are run down, but you'd know the Zinneman house as soon as you saw it. Although someone told me it had been bought and was being renovated now. But..." She sipped her tea before continuing. "Mr. Zinneman murdered his entire family one night in the house. People say his daughter Pearl still haunts the place. I went there once in high school on a dare. I didn't see anything, but sometimes you feel it, you know? Just... evil." She shuddered and stuck out her tongue briefly. "I never went back. It's not a good place. The Fallows is just this huge farmland overrun with weeds. I wouldn't bother heading over there until the snow melts and the weather improves. Your car, or truck, or whatever, would probably get stuck in a bunch of mud. People, and by people I mean mostly horny teenagers, go there to get high and party, or have sex in cars. But there are rumors of something with red eyes living in the weeds. That could be rumor, obviously, but it's a rumor that's been around longer than I have, so I tend to think there might be some truth to it."
As soon as Addie said ‘Mr. Zinneman,’ the case came back to Nick. He remembered reading about that tragedy, but there had been so many murders in this town, quite a few of them of the ‘entire family’ variety, it was difficult to keep all of them in the forefront of his mind. He made a soft ‘ahh’ sound as they walked and nodded through the rest of what Adalyn said. Nick liked hearing the hard evidence that was usually collected by his colleagues, but he never got access to that sort of equipment, so the majority of his research was filled in by personal anecdotes. He’d been in places like Adalyn described, spots in the world that were just wrong somehow, so he knew that feeling. Places that weren’t good. Nick chuckled over horny teenagers -- also often a part of the stories he heard -- then nodded again. “That’s what I’d heard about the place -- the red eyes,” he said. “I’ve probably had all of those local legends thrown at me in the time I’ve been here ... maybe I’ll go over and have a peek once everything thaws in the spring. Until then, I wonder if anyone knows who bought the Zinneman place, and if they’d be willing to have a chat.” He sounded musing, kind of like he was looking forward to interviewing mysterious people who’d bought a murder house. Because he was.
It was interesting to talk to someone about Point Pleasant who hadn't grown up there. For the natives, it felt like all of this was so ho hum. Mysterious disappearances, murder, unexplainable incidents... all of that was so often brushed under the rug. But newbies, and people like Nick, they always seemed fascinated by the town's history. And appalled, sometimes. Addie couldn't really blame them for that. Bad things happened everywhere... they just happened more often than usual in Point Pleasant. "You could probably ask someone living on Ludlow. They may know." Addie figured Nick could probably walk into Brianna McCarthy's office and charm the information out of her but she didn't want to suggest that. Brianna McCarthy was a bazillion times more attractive than Addie was and Addie had heard plenty of gossip about Brianna's extramarital affairs. "Then again, it could be a complete mystery," Addie continued, once they were on the second floor landing. Her room was at the end of the hall, so she began to lead Nick down the room. "Like the Rogan home. You probably heard about that one?"
Nick had gotten passingly familiar with all of the streets in Point Pleasant -- the layout of the town really hadn’t taken too long to learn -- but Ludlow had definitely stood out to him because of everything he’d read and heard. He knew at least one of the long-standing families in town had members living there, which made it doubly interesting. Not many people seemed to go from Overlook to Ludlow, at least not by choice. He thought they might be the most interesting people on that block to talk to, so maybe that was the door he would go knocking on when the time came. Nick glanced around and took a sip from his mug when they reached the hallway, feeling like now they were really in the residential part of the house. He got the fun sense that he was getting a privileged peek into Adalyn’s life, and that was always a thrill. He’d wondered before if part of his attraction to investigative reporting came from voyeuristic tendencies. “I think ... Mr. Rogan killed his wife?” Nick offered, sounding unsure. It definitely rang some bells, but he didn’t know if he knew the story for sure.
Addie sipped her tea and shook her head. "No. He tried to kill her. She ended up in the hospital, but they saved her life. The weird thing is, the state police showed up and took Mr. Rogan. And Mrs. Rogan was transferred to another hospital. Supposedly, anyway. Because I heard Sheriff Barrett had no idea what happened to either of him and it's like they never existed. Their house went up for sale, supposedly by their daughter, and it sold, but no one knows to who. Neighbors get no answer when they knock, but lights appear on and off, and there's a station wagon... I think it's a station wagon?... outside of the house, and it parks in different places but no one has seen anyone drive it." Addie paused outside the door to her bedroom and looked up at Nick. "Of course, this is hearsay on my part, because these are just things I've been told or heard, mostly at Moxie's when I go there to get a bear claw in the morning. Marjorie Betts lives next door to the Rogan house, and she's the one who said no one ever answers the door. You could probably talk to Sheriff Barrett if you wanted to. He might talk, but I don't know. Anyway, the Rogan house definitely has an air of mystery to it now." Addie pushed open the door to her bedroom, thankful that it was actually clean for once. It was a simple room, but it was her sanctuary from the rest of the house. "My bedroom, on the other hand, has zero mystery to it. But it does have a lot of books."
Nick wasn’t sure if any of the cops were the talking type. He hadn’t met Sheriff Barrett, but he’d heard quite a bit about him from Madison. He seemed to be a skeptic too, but Nick hadn’t actually talked to the man, so he couldn’t say. He decided not to mention to Adalyn that his tenuous connection to the PPPD was gone now. “Interesting,” he murmured to her explanation of the Rogan situation. It was another spot on the list to visit, even if it didn’t lead to anything. What else was he going to do in this place? “I have been turned onto Moxie’s bear claws, that’s for sure. I love that place.” Nick stepped into Adalyn’s room with her, looking around with interest. He almost made a joke about how he didn’t think he’d made it into a woman’s bedroom so quickly before, but he realized that was probably in poor taste so he didn’t. Her bedroom was lovely, tastefully decorated and neat, done in soothing muted blues. And of course the bookshelves. “Every bedroom has mystery,” Nick told her with a grin. He moved toward one of her shelves like he was drawn by gravity, his eyes starting to scan the book titles.
She was sure there were so many other stories like the Rogan story, but she didn't really want to bombard him with every murder or mysterious death she had ever heard of. Addie figured she ought to keep some things for the next time they saw each other. Which would hopefully be sooner than later. "They have the best breakfast," Addie said. "I've tried to emulate their pancakes, but they never turn out as fluffy as Moxie's. I've actually thought about getting hired there for a few days just to find out what it is they do differently, and then quitting once I've snagged all the secret recipes. One of my favorite things to do in the spring is to get up early and jog to Moxie's for breakfast. And then I enjoy a leisurely walk home, mostly because I'm too full of pancakes and bacon to run." Addie took another quick sip of tea and then set the mug down on the dresser as Nick pursued her bookshelves. She had no real preferred genre, so there were all kinds of books sorted by author. Knowing he was a writer made Addie feel more self-conscious about her choices, like he might judge her based on what she read. At least she had all of his books, so that had to count for something, right? "So what about your bedroom then?" she asked while slipping her fingertips into the back pockets of her jeans. "What's the mystery there?"
“You like to run, too?” Nick asked, glancing around at her with an approving smile. “I do a lot of that. When the weather’s tolerable, anyway. It helps me think. I usually go in the mornings and come home and write for several hours after -- wherever ‘home’ happens to be at the time. Which is Juniper for right now.” He paused, then laughed a bit. “I guess the mystery is why the hell am I paying so much for a room when I could just rent a place here for a while, you know? ... besides the ghosts, of course.” He ambled along the length of the bookshelf, reaching out with his free hand to trail fingertips along the spines. He was seeing a lot of names he knew, plenty he didn’t. Nick wasn’t judging anything on her shelves and wouldn’t, unless he ran across some crazy right-wing talking head books or something. Most people thought his work was trash, he wasn’t going to look down on somebody for what they read, especially since he was seeing so much variety. Nick tilted a Phillip Pullman out by the top to get a peek at the cover, then slid it back. “So I’m guessing ... you’re a read in bed kinda woman,” he said, turning to smile at Adalyn again, then glanced toward her bed and the nightstands flanking it. “What are you reading now?”
A soft laugh formed in her throat. She was guessing that Nick ran for exercise whereas Addie just ran to get pancakes, disguising it as exercise. "Juniper is a nice place, but definitely pricey for a long-term stay," she said, pleased to know where he was staying now. And it definitely sounded like he planned on being in Point Pleasant for a while, which was thrilling. Her gaze scanned over her own books, but glanced at Nick every few seconds. He looked so good in her bedroom. Large and intimidating in a sexy kind of way. When was the last time she had a man in her room? It had been a couple of months, at least. Her smile widened at his observation and Addie turned to walk over to the nightstand by her bed to pick up the book she had been reading. "I am. I read in bed, and the bath. I've tried reading downstairs when things are quiet, but I find myself distracted easily by things that need done. When I'm in bed or the bath, it's just me, you know? Right now I'm reading Little Heaven by Nick Cutter. Not my favorite Nick, obviously, but it's a horror novel about a New Mexico settlement called Little Heaven. You know how Point Pleasant sounds really lovely and pleasant, but in reality it's pretty creepy and dark? Little Heaven is the same way. Are you reading anything, or are you more focused on your writing?"