There's a Killer in my House

Wren Castellano bought the Hartwell house for the bones, wide-plank floors, a widow's walk, a kitchen fireplace big enough to stand in. She did not buy it for the sound of footsteps on the stairs at two in the morning, or the notes that appear on her counter in handwriting that isn't hers, or the certainty, growing colder every week, that she is not alone in her own home. Blythe Marsh left the Penhallow Police Department eighteen months ago and hasn't picked up a service weapon since. She runs a one-woman home security business now, mostly cameras and deadbolts, mostly boring, exactly how she likes it. Then a woman with paint under her fingernails and fear she's trying very hard to hide calls about noises in her walls, and Bly's quiet life stops being quiet. As October closes in on the small coastal town of Penhallow, Maine, and the fog comes up off the water earlier every night, two women who have both built careers out of not needing anyone start needing each other. But the thing living in Wren's house has been there longer than she has, and it does not intend to leave without a fight.