The Dark Place (#FrightFest2016 Gold Winner)

The Dark Place - Chapter Thirty

"Hey sarge, what's going on?"

Galvin lowered the passenger window slightly and smiled. "I think a walk back to the station should wake you up a bit, don't you?"

"But it's bloody raining out here."

"My point exactly," said Galvin as he turned the key in the ignition and fired up the engine.

Morton looked sorry for himself as he hugged himself against the growing downpour. Half of Galvin wanted to leave him right there where he stood; the other half knew that if Cass Blakely really had seen a girl in trouble the search of the area around the lake would take half the time with Morton's help.

"Get in you idiot, we've got work to do."

3

"A penny for them?" said Mrs. Hughes.

"Sorry?" replied Penny absently.

"Your thoughts dear, a penny for your thoughts."

Penny blinked and the face of her watch came back into focus.

2:25 pm.

She had been staring at it for the past ten minutes without even realizing; her mind locked onto wondering what they going to do once her mother's business with Tamicka's dad was settled and they had no further excuse to stay. She really didn't want to spend another cold, uncomfortable night sleeping in the car. On the other hand, neither did she relish the thought of spending the night up at the big house.

"These thoughts are not worth as much as that," said Penny as she raised the teacup to her lips. She couldn't help pulling a face as the cold liquid touched her lips.

"Don't worry dear; I'll pour you another one." Mrs Hughes got up to take Penny's cup.

"Do you mind if I just go down and see how mum is?" Penny was already getting up from her chair as she spoke.

"Of course not dear." The old woman walked over to one of the wall cupboards and took out another cup and saucer. "I'll bring the tea along when it's ready, all right?"

"Thanks Mrs. Hughes, you're the best." Penny watched the housekeeper grin and blush deep red as she turned towards the kettle.

"Ow... stop being so silly, go and see to your mum, there's a good girl."

Penny turned and ran out of the kitchen, through the dining room and into the main hall. She had no idea what made her stop outside the first door to her right and take hold of the brass knob. She had not meant to; she had just planned on going straight along to the living room. The doorknob felt like ice in her hand. She wanted to let go but her right hand turned it and slowly pushed the door open. Even though the huge, sash windows had been left half open smell of turpentine and oil paint hung heavy in the room. Penny had the feeling that the art studio had not been used in quite some time even though Mrs. Hughes had done her best to keep it as clean as the rest of the house.

The one common factor about the many canvases, which hung and leaned against the studio's walls, was that none of them appeared to be finished; none that was, until she turned to her left and saw a portrait of a little girl whom she recognized straight away as Mrs. Hughes' granddaughter, Jane. The little, copper haired girl sat on an old tree stump outside the old house by the far end of the lake dressed in a short sleeved, pink gown that made her look like a fairytale princess. Jane's eyes squinted against the bright sunshine as her pretty face smiled out at Penny.

The painting was amazingly lifelike. The paint had been applied in thin glazes with ultra-fine brushstrokes which, combined with the expression on Jane's face made the picture look almost like a photograph.