Cloaked in Malice Read Online Free PDF

scary reading vintage clothes had become to me, like a matter of probable death and destruction, both of which came in the form of an often deadly puzzle, snippet by dizzying, nauseating snippet.

Five

Shoes and clothing damage our ability to survive naked in the wilderness.
—STEVE MANN

    While Paisley spread out the children’s outfits, I sought her nod of approval before I related to Nick the gist of what she’d told me so far about her childhood.
    That done, I walked the length of the fainting couch to check out the vintage goods.
    The little white dress, a confection of silk charmeuse with a plain bodice, had a skirt covered in ruffle upon ruffle, from waist to hem. I’d seen a couple of those ruffles peeking out near the hem of my cloak at the horrific scene of my father’s, or someone’s father’s death/shooting, though with that much blood…I supposed it could have been a knifing. And yeah, probably his death.
    I turned to the mysterious man-magnet who’d scared myghost earlier. “Do you know who originally wore these clothes, Paisley?” Or maybe I should ask who last wore them. I hadn’t quite yet figured out the rules of the universe concerning this psychometric gift of mine.
    “To be truthful, I don’t know,” Paisley said, answering my question, “but the more I look at them, the more I suspect it was me, or someone close to me. Like, maybe, I was there. Maybe. Or they belonged to my mother. Not Mam. I never believed she was my mother. The farm animals had stronger maternal instincts than Mam.”
    “Have you been saving these clothes your whole life?” I asked. “Just to bring them to me now?”
    Paisley straightened, a bit of excitement glinting in her eyes. “That’s another big part of the story. One of the darker memories of my childhood was the way Mam and Pap whispered secrets to each other while they watched me. More specifically, while they watched me pass by this one closet, top of the stairs, almost at the landing, with a padlock on it. I couldn’t go near that door without my constrained parents—if they were my parents—going bonkers. I mean, it makes a girl want to take a look, you know?”
    “Obviously, you looked,” Nick said.
    “Not until they died. I looked, forgive me for the irreverence, about an hour after I buried Mam beside Pap and Spotsylvania. Just to be ornery, I buried the dog between them.”
    Paisley giggled, poor thing. Separating her keepers by their dog had obviously been a rare prank.
    “First,” she said, “I wasted my time looking for a key, then I went down to the cellar and got a giant pair of metal cutters, the ones Pap used on the fence around the property—when the electricity was off, of course.”
    “Wait,” Nick said, “you had an electric fence?”
    Paisley Skye nodded. “It was lethal. Every once in a while we’d find a fried raccoon or squirrel hanging from it. We had that, and an alarm system, that cost a couple hundred grand, which seems a lot to me, considering how frugal we were. I know, because I found the receipt among some papers before I left. Frankly, the farm isn’t worth as much as protecting it cost.”
    “Maybe more than the farm’s original cost,” Nick said. “But if that farm sits on its own island, I’m thinking you’re a rich woman, Paisley.”
    “Oh, I was already rich with money, just not people, though Mam and Pap, they were so tight, Mam made her own bread and butter, and Pap butchered cows for eating.”
    “The closet,” I said, not wanting to get into an animal’s trip to a cleaver.
    Paisley crossed the floor as if she might get caught, and turned to us. “I felt like I was ten and due a strapping when I crept up those stairs—I’m telling you, my whole body shook—but I cut that lock, sure I’d awakened the pair of them from the dead with the sound it madesnapping. Thought I broke my wrist, too, but it was just sore for a few days. Every time I looked at it, I could practically hear Mam