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Escaping the craziness of the graves and the slashed tires and murdered women might be the best thing she could do. But running away from her problems wouldn’t solve them, and no amount of miles would erase Chet’s sad eyes from her memory.
“I can’t do that, Mama. I have a new job. Responsibilities. I can’t just take off on a vacation now.” Keeping details of her life from her mom made her cringe. Growing up with a single mom had made the two of them more like friends than mother and daughter. Secrets were never an issue with them, but Tracey would flip her lid if she found out what Mia had been through the last couple days. Which would result with her mom flying up to Tennessee, something Mia couldn’t handle right now.
Tracey let out a long sigh. “Have you talked to Aaron at all?”
Her spine stiffened. “No. Nor do I plan to.”
“What about your money? Your dreams? Everything you two built together? I’m sure what happened was a big misunderstanding.”
“We’ve talked this to death, Mama. Aaron is gone. Left without a trace. I couldn’t talk to him if I wanted to. He wiped out our account, ran off with another woman, and left me to pick up the pieces.”
A familiar bite of resentment pushed against her chest. “Why would you want me to be with someone like that? Why don’t you understand that he almost destroyed me?” She hated the hitch of emotion in her voice, but she was tired of being the only one to stand up for herself—hated needing to convince her own mother that she was worth more than what a man like Aaron could give her.
“No man can destroy you, my strong girl. I’m so sorry if you feel like I’m pushing you to go back to something—someone—who isn’t good for you. Sometimes it’s hard not to project my past onto you.”
Although Mia appreciated the words, she couldn’t quite believe them. This same circle of conversation had spun between them more times than she could count. If her mom really meant what she said, she’d stop bringing up Aaron and just support Mia’s new life.
“It’s fine, Mama.” A yawn ripped through her. She plucked the fleece throw blanket from the back of the sofa and pooled it over her lap, causing Otto to grumble and move his head to her side. “Can I call you later? I didn’t sleep well last night and want to close my eyes for a bit.”
“Are you feeling all right?” Tracey asked, concern clear in her voice.
Mia fought a humorless laugh. A lot of feelings whirled around her, and none of them made her feel all right. “I’m fine. Just need a little nap. We’ll talk later. Love you.”
She disconnected the call then slid down on the couch, resting her head on the fuzzy throw pillow. The rumbles of conversation from next door continued, and she concentrated on Chet’s deep baritone until her eyelids fell and she drifted into a deep sleep.
Grrrr!Ruff! Grrrr!
Otto’s deep rumbles vibrated from his throat, yanking her from a dreamless sleep. He stood beside her, teeth bared and the hairs on the back of his neck standing straight up.
A charged energy sizzled in the air, and Mia straightened, adrenaline forcing away all traces of fatigue. Shadows fell across the floor. No light filtered through the windows, and she hadn’t turned on any lamps before she’d fallen asleep. The sound of heavy raindrops pounded against the roof.
A quick glance at the glowing clock on her stove told she’d slept the afternoon away. Evening was here, and the sun must have just set. Otto kept guard beside her, his growls increasing her anxiety. She swiped her phone from the coffee table and stood.
She twisted the knob on the lamp beside her, the immediate glow chasing away the shadows. She glanced around the room. Nothing was out of place. No strangers lurked in the corners. Crossing the room, she checked the front door and released a breath of relief to find it still locked. She flipped on the kitchen light. Something outside the window caught her attention.
Illuminating the porch, she squinted and stared out the rectangular glass that flanked the door. Long strands of fabric or string dangled from a tree in the front yard. The wind blew, causing the strands to dance around. The strands were almost like unlit Christmas lights that had gotten loose and wiggled around on the branches. But Christmas lights hadn’t lingered in the trees when she’d moved in January, so why would they be put up in April? And who would put them there in the middle of a rainstorm?
She squinted through the darkening sky. The strands were thicker than they first appeared, and nothing adorned the thick cords. The shapes took form, and her brain caught up to what her eyes saw. Someone didn’t put strands of lights in the tree. Someone had tied ropes to the branches, letting them hang down like long snakes.
* * *
The bright lightglowing from Chet’s computer strained his eyes. He’d stared at the screen far too long. His head ached and the muscles in his neck screamed at him to take a break. But his obsessive need to find out everything he could about Janie Simpson compelled him to keep reading. Keep digging.
The information he uncovered was mostly mundane, and probably already found by the police, but he couldn’t just sit here and do nothing. So he sat and searched and prayed to find anything that would prove useful.
His phone rang, and Mia’s name popped up. He answered the call and lifted the device to his ear. “Hello?”
“Chet! Come here! Now!”
Mia’s frantic cries pitched his heart to his throat and had him running toward the door. “I’m coming.” He threw open the door just as Mia flew out of her apartment. Her wide, worried eyes displayed her panic. Otto stood beside her, his body clenched and coiled as if ready to strike some unseen attacker any second.
“What’s going on? Are you all right?”
She pointed behind her. “Someone tied ropes in the tree.”
Her words made no sense, and he peered past her to the clutter of trees in the front yard. When Bobby had built this cabin years before, he’d wanted a simple hide away in the woods for hunting and fishing—two activities his wife wasn’t a fan of. He’d cleared enough space to build the square home, make a narrow path for a driveway, and pour a small fishing pond in the backyard. He left the land as unspoiled as possible, and the wind from the ongoing storm made a handful of maple trees sway.
Through the haze of rain, he could make out what looked like thick snakes whipping from wayward branches in a tree that stood directly in front of the house, a smattering of pine trees around it. The wind howled, giving the illusion that the strands screamed as they danced around. Dark clouds moved across the moonless sky. “What the hell?”
