Page 74 of Nowhere Good

It’d been enough to ground her back into reality.

But not enough to save her from the dread that had seeped into her pores and soaked her to the bone.

Then he’d grabbed her wrist, gentle yet assertive. Stared at her like he really gave a damn, and it did conflicting things to her heart. She felt so selfish for not opening up to him more. All she’d done was push him away, and she’d spent the rest of the night under a blanket of shame.

People are dying, you idiot.

A rattling at the front door caused her to seize. Keys jangled, and the door pushed open, followed by heavy footsteps.

Her dad appeared in the doorway to the living room, so tall he practically hit the ceiling.

“Claire Bear,” he said.

“Daddy…” She turned off the TV. “What’re you doing here?”

His gaze skated across the room as he tucked his hands into the pockets of his denim overalls. “Dill’s with me today. Business matters. Don’t worry about it.” He pointed at her, suddenly rigid. “Listen, we’re keepin’ the bar closed today, so you stay here, you got that? No grocery store visits or little strolls to smell the flowers. You don’t leave this house. You understand?”

Claire nodded. Maybe he truly did just not want her to get killed, but as always, it felt like a ploy for control.

He leaned against the doorway. “What’d our detective friend tell you last night?”

Claire tensed. “What do you mean? Nothing…”

“He didn’t ask you nothing? Didn’t give you any idea who they think their suspect might be?”

“No. I mean, why would he tell me important stuff like that? He just felt responsible to get me home safe. When girls die, he gets blamed.”

“Huh.” His eyes bounced around the room again. “Y’know, I’ve been thinkin’, you and Dill have played house here long enough. Let’s get rid of this hunk of junk trailer an’ get you two back at the farm.”

Her stomach fell into a pit. “What, why? We’re doing fine here, Daddy.”

“No you ain’t. You belong at the farm. You begged me to let you two move out and I obliged, ’cause it’s good for a woman to know how to take care of her own house, but all this shit that’s been goin’ on made me realize that was never the right call. It’s time to get back to your roots.”

She didn’t know what to say. Every memory she’d had of the cage yesterday terrified her, reminded her, and in the end, they even stopped her from telling Seth the truth. Proof of her dad’s success in training her like a damn animal.

She dug her nails into her palms.

Tell him you hate him.

Tell him you’d rather die than step foot in that house again.

Tell him he’ll have to kill you first—like he killed your mother.

Dillon’s shower turned off, coating the trailer in silence, and brought her back to the present. She uncurled her hands. Thank God she’d said none of that.

Because if her dad did kill her mom, then she needed to prove it, not tip her dad off that she was onto him.

“Yes, Daddy,” she said, like the obedient girl he wanted her to be.

Fairview had managed to survive the night without another murder, but that was hardly a comfort. If last night had been hell, this morning had been even worse.

A trip to the morgue, a meeting with a grieving pair of parents who ID’d the body. Even hours later, Seth couldn’t forget their horrified, sobbing faces and the way they’d looked at him as he explained the situation, like why didn’t you stop this?

He wished he had. There was nothing he could do or say to make this better.

He just needed to finish this.

Finally back at the station, he’d spent the last several minutes in the conference room with Chief Wells, the blinds closed tight. He didn’t want anyone outside of this room to know his theory yet. Chief Wells shared Seth’s exhaustion, seated on the other side of the table across from him. She’d been the one mostly dealing with the press today.