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“They’re not fooling anyone.”
“That’s unfortunate. I bet that Sheriff Smith is bitter toward him because he inherited nothing.” I frown. “But then again, he seemed to care more about finding his brother than what his brother had owned.”
He nods a little. “Like I said, they were close.”
My lips tilt down in a sympathetic smile. “So sad. I’ve dealt a lot with death, and unfortunately, until there’s a body, some people don’t accept it.”
“He’ll move on.”
I nibble my bottom lip. “Yeah, maybe,” I whisper.
After a moment of silence, he nods to the sprayer and pushes off the couch.
“Right,” I say, shaking myself and dispelling the thoughts swirling in my head. “Back to work.”
Chapter 11
Tegan Adams
I wanderthrough the house with quick and hurried steps. For the life of me, I can’t figure out what I’m searching for. Deep down, I just know I need to find something. The anxiety of it all is so crippling that I’m breathing hard and shaking uncontrollably.
Things are getting knocked over as I search under beds and through drawers and closets. When I pass through the living room, pictures fall off the wall and shatter on the floor. I pass it all by as if it were normal. As if I expected it.
“Where is it?” I scream as I head into the kitchen.
“Where’s what?” a familiar deep voice rumbles.
I whirl and find Cole standing by the kitchen entrance, his arms crossed over his chest. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of jeans.
“I don’t know!” I shout at him. “But I have to find it.”
He comes to me, arms outstretched to embrace me. “Let me help you.”
“No!” I say, pushing him away. “It has to be me. I’m the one meant to find it. No onecan help me.”
I open the fridge and am slammed with a wretched stench. It smells like a dead deer on the side of the road on a scorching summer day. Inside, I find fruit so rotted that it’s shriveled. The steak on the second shelf has gray and deep green mold across the entire surface. And a bloated jug of milk is curdled.
Gagging, I cover my nose and shut the fridge. “Where the hell is it?” I growl.
“You need me, Tegan,” Cole says. “You want me. I know you do.”
I head to the kitchen drawers. “Of course I do, but that’s not what’s important right now.”
“So then tell me you want me. Say the words.”
“Cole!” I snap with my hand on a drawer handle. “I can’t right now! Can’t you see I’m finding something?”
He shakes his head, and then his whole body quivers. It trembles so much that he starts to become invisible, and when the shaking subsides, standing in Cole’s place is Dr. Lynn. “You’ll never find what you’re looking for, Tegan. You should have never left.”
“I don’t need you,” I hiss. I yank open the drawer, and as I do, dozens of knives fly out. A sharp sensation pierces my chest, and I gasp as the pain blossoms into my arms.
My breathing is labored as I look down and find the hilt of a knife sticking out where my heart is.
“You should have never left,” Dr. Lynn whispers. I barely hear him above the blood rushing through my ears, but I turn to look at him anyway. His hand is by his chin, his fingers curled as he clutches something within them. “Safe is what you need.”
“No,” I say with difficulty as my knees grow weak. I can feel the blood spreading down my stomach. “I’ll never go back. This is - this - is my life now.”
Somewhere in the house, music begins to play, a sweet, sad melody from a piano. Where is that music coming from?
