Daddy, Why Are You Biting Me?

PART II

"You said Mr. Robichaux, I think that was his name. He was the owner. He came with you to show the house to us," I spoke into the phone with a nervousness. I wasn't sure what to do next. But I was hoping that speaking to the owner may help me understand what's going on.

I wasn't sure how I would explain what was happening in the house to anyone without sounding absolutely crazy. But I had to try something. I had to do something. Max and I can't continue being scared. Going to the police didn't feel like the right thing to do. Explaining to them that a man that looked and dressed like my husband, but I was sure was not my husband, was harassing me at night seemed like such a bad idea. So, I decided to start with the owner. Maybe he had similar experiences in the house, and would know what to do. Maybe he never had anything like that happen to him, and would confirm I was insane. Either way, it was a first step.

Unfortunately, I had no way of contacting Mr. Robichaux directly. I called my real estate agent. Maybe he would know how I could reach him.

"I just wanted to ask him a few questions... about the house," I continued into the phone.

"I'm sorry."

"Please. I know you probably have some sort of confidentiality agreement you need to abide by... But this is very important."

"No. No, it's not that."

"Please," I begged.

"He died. He's dead. Mr. Robichaux died."

"What? When? How?" I was stunned.

"Honestly, I don't know. I was just notified a few days ago. The police think he tried to take his own life, and had a heart attack while doing so."

"Do you know if he had any family? Has anyone else lived in the house that I can talk to?"

"No," the agent said coldly.

"Seriously, anything would help. Any leads. Anything."

"No..." We sat in silence for a beat, and then he continued, "I have to go."

"Wait, please." The phone clicked. The call ended.

My friend Katherine lived right outside the city. She was a high school teacher, so during the summer months she had a lot of free time. When not traveling or visiting family, she often spent time with Max and me. She and Max loved each other. Katherine babysat Max when I needed time to focus on work, and Max was always excited to go with her. She would take him to the park or to the zoo. I didn't explain to Katherine what was really happening. I simply blamed it on an overwhelming amount of work. I asked her if she could watch Max for a few hours, and she agreed.

I drove to Katherine's apartment, and dropped off Max. She said she was going to take him to an arcade and out for pizza. I thanked her, hugged her and kissed Max goodbye.

I jumped back into my car and sped off. I headed for the freeway, towards my real estate agent's office.

"No, I don't have an appointment. But I need to see him," I told the receptionist. I wasn't sure what I was going to say exactly, but I was going to do my best to convince the agent to tell me everything he knew about the house. I knew in person, he couldn't hang up on me.

"I can't let you back to see him if you don't have an appointment," the receptionist said. But, just then the agent walked passed the door behind the receptionist's desk. He looked up and saw me, and muttered, "Shit," under his breath. He turned back around and started to walk off.