Chapter 14

Gillian’s flat looks like a famous artist’s abode. She’s not an artist, though. She doesn’t know the difference between an easel and a paintbrush. Poor thing. Bronze and human-shaped figurines by Daniel Lucy, a local sculptor, decorate the steel-colored walls and cement floor. Jason counts more than fifteen, haunted by the creatures because they resemble ghouls from hell opposed to angels in heaven. Pops of lime green offer a secondary color in the flat. Lime green furniture, a matching shag rug, and two plastic chairs that look too uncomfortable to sit in and enjoy a good Mary Higgins Clark mystery or horror novel by Peter Straub.

Two cement hallways steer off this main room of living, dining, and kitchen areas. Jason knows that one hallway leads to the bathroom: sunken tub, sauna, and two showers. The other hallway leads to Gillian’s bedroom, which probably looks as if a cyclone has spun through it, creating a disaster area because she likes to be sloppy sometimes.