Page 19 of The Quiet Witness

He must be keeping his stash of wild-caught game in there.

Telling herself to stop being a pussy she opened the freezer. Fearing she would see the worst, an arm, a leg, other body parts he’d needed to store for some weird reason her brain was making up.

Nope. Instead, frozen vegetables? There was one red package sticking out with its bold colors, daring her to touch the sticky cold sack to discover… frozen berry mix? She chuckled to herself.

Psychopath indeed.

She turned to Ghost, who sat watching her, tail thumping on the floor. “Where can I find your food?”

The dog ran off with his tail swishing behind him. Only to return with… a piece of paper in his muzzle? She gingerly pried it out between his teeth. Opening the crumpled paper to find it was another note in Lucien’s writing.

Right, forgot to mention. You can find Ghost’s kibble in the plastic tub next to the stove. He loves a good old carrot or vegetable stew though. Feel free to spruce up his food. He won’t mind.

Lucien had even gone as far as to draw a little happy emoji. Honestly, what was wrong with this guy? Bad question, what was right with him? Ghost’s tail slapped the floor, sitting in front of a plastic tub.

Allowing a small smile to form at his enthusiasm, she announced, “ let’s fix you a meal boy.”

***

The heavy hum of a familiar engine brought Kate back to the world of the living. Kicking off the blanket she’d been huddled under, she raced to the tiny window in the front door.

It was him, alright. Two days of silence following their ‘fun’ with the alarm. But her housemate had returned. Hooray.

Lucien reversed the Volvo onto the driveway, stopping in front of the garage door. Closing the door with a thud, he didn’t move to fly up the steps. No… he flung open the garage, rattling the silence. Disappearing inside to reappear with… cleaning supplies.

“At least I see what needs cleaning.”

He popped the trunk and bent down to grab a sponge from the bucket. Her stomach twisted into a tight fist. She knew it. Had seen it firsthand. But to witness it again. The unapologetic darkness swirling around in what seemed like a human being.

Charismatic as he could make himself be, surrounded by women like Clara and Denise, even with her. He took lives.

Pacing in front of the door, she made up her mind.

Chapter 8

Scarlet Truths

Lucien stood next to the trunk of his car, covered head to toe in black sweats and an equally black sweater, looking every bit like a reaper sent to pick up souls. Only the scythe was missing.

Rub, rub, rub. He was meticulously scrubbing away at a dark liquid which clung to the beige fabric. Everything the sponge touched fizzed to life.

“Wa-what are you c-cleaning?”

Head in the trunk, he asked. “In need for confirmation, dear?”

Kate glanced out over her surroundings. Evening was falling and there was only the light of the porch to ward off the darkness. Bile rose up in her throat, ready to spill over the frost-laden floor.

Lucien popped out of the car. His eyes roaming over the slight slump in her shoulders from where she stood, leaning against the porch railing. “Don’t ask if you don’t want to know.” He cast her an amused glance. “You sure had your fun though, huh?”

Tripping the alarm, flipping him the finger. All she could do was stare at the ease with which he cleaned the car. Without the slightest tremble in his hands, only a frown lining his forehead as he scrubbed away at a particularly difficult spot.

“What did they do?”

He looked at her, surprised by the question. “Who did what exactly?”

Kate cleared her throat, trying and failing to swallow the lump forming in her throat. “The person you’ve killed.”

“People.” He crawled out of the car, drying his hands on a rag. “Plural. A couple known for doing particularly… dark things. More so than I do, to be honest.”