Chapter Thirty-Two
Afew daysafter the murder of Mrs. Kilpatrick, Raven sat hunched at her work desk, stringing sea beads for a necklace she’d been commissioned to make. Sooty was curled on an old cushion on the wicker chair, and Teddy was stretched out on his side in the corner where the sunlight didn’t reach. She loved the quiet moments in her studio where she could forget about the horrible things in the world and simply create beautiful pieces of art.
After working for a while, satisfaction at completing her job coursed through her. She picked up a vintage broach and began taking it apart when she heard the floor outside her studio creak.What was that?Her eyes flew to Teddy and then to Sooty, but neither of them stirred. She breathed in and out several times, quelling the panic threatening to explode inside her.
Focusing back on the necklace, she unhinged the clasp, putting it aside for a possible use one day. Glistening faux pearls and shiny crystals easily fell into her hand and she smiled. She loved the vintage jewelry she found in the antique stores, and she tried to imagine what the women may have been like who’d worn the broaches, necklaces, earrings, and rings she’d bought.
Another creak, louder that time but somehow more distant. Sooty raised her head and Teddy’s ears perked up. Raven’s hand flew to her throat, fingers trembling, though her muscles and nerves were coiled tight.What is that? Is someone in the house?A low growl from Teddy made her jump.
As quietly as she could, she pushed her chair back and stood up, her breathing suspended. The noises of the neighborhood that had been comforting not so long ago were distant and muffled. All she could hear was the floor creaking. The sound pounded in her ears, flowed through her veins, and climbed up her spine. Glancing down at her desk, she cursed herself for leaving her cell phone in the kitchen. She stood up and walked over to the window. She quietly turned the lock, but it wouldn’t budge. Frantically, she tried to get the lock to slide but had no luck.Why the hell is this brokennowof all times?She willed herself to stay calm and took several deep breaths.
Her eyes darted around the room, desperately looking for anything she could use to defend herself. Then her gaze landed on her soldering gun. With shaky fingers, she grabbed it.It’s better than nothing.She took the first step, her bare feet soundless on the wooden floor. Then Teddy scrambled to his feet, barking wildly. She put a hand over her mouth, thinking she might scream, but nothing came out. Fear of attracting whoever was outside her studio kept her quiet.
With frantic scratching, Teddy managed to push the door open further. He rushed out, his nails clacking on the floors.
If I can just get to the kitchen, I can call Muerto. Although… maybe I’m being paranoid.
Gulping in air, she moved closer to the door. Her heart slammed against her breastbone as the ringing in her ears intensified. She grasped the door and opened it slightly, expecting to see a man standing in front of her, his face ugly from evilness, but no one was there.
The silence strangled her.Why isn’t Teddy barking? Where the fuck is he?With one hand gripping the soldering gun, the other clenched into a fist, her nails digging into the palm of her hand, she walked out into the hallway.Fuck the phone. I need to get out of here.She walked to the living room, her aim the front door.
Before she entered the living room, she paused. Nothing out of the ordinary. She crept to the front door, stifling a yelp when she felt something brush against her legs. Eyes wide, she looked down, almost breaking out in hysterics when she saw Sooty next to her bare leg. “You scared the shit out of me,” she whispered.
Tiptoeing to the front door, she stopped.What if he’s on the porch?She felt her pulse in her throat, but she forced herself to look through the peephole. Nothing as far as she could see. She pulled the curtain aside ever so slightly and peeked out. No one was on her porch. She saw Mr. Davis mowing his lawn, but nothing else.I have to get out of here.
With trembling fingers, she unlocked the deadbolt and grasped the door handle. From behind her she heard a rush of footsteps, loud, assaulting her ears. And breathing. Short, chattering bursts.
“Shit!” She whirled around and saw a figure in a ski mask inches from her. From behind, she tried to open the door, but the damn knob wouldn’t turn. For a long second, she froze, and that’s when her attacker slammed something hard down on her head. Blood gushed from an open wound, flowing into her eye. The attacker lifted the object again, but that time she saw it—a flashlight. In a burst of energy, she hit the person with the soldering gun, but her vision was clouded in red.
The intruder was able to clip her head again with the flashlight, and Raven stumbled and fell down. Then a rag was shoved over her mouth and nose, and her lungs screamed for air. She thrashed, fingers gripping at the rag to jerk it away. The panic was a deluge of ice water surrounding every limb, creeping higher.Think, Raven. Think!But her head was pounding and she couldn’t think straight.
Her fingers grasped the bottom of the ski mask, and as she struggled for breath, she pulled up on it, exposing the intruder’s face. For a moment, confusion sparked through her as she took it in. The exposure seemed to take her attacker by surprise. And when Raven saw the cold, flat eyes and the darkness distorting the facial features, she screamed. It was a scream of hysteria and disbelief, bordering on terror.
“You!” she choked out, pain ripping through her dry throat.
Another hit on her throbbing head.
Then the rag over her mouth and nose again.
The maniacal laughter.
And the blackness. Creeping blackness.
The room was spinning.
Blackness.
She was gone.
