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“Alistair. Is she okay?” He sounded genuinely concerned for her. Truthfully, I had no idea he’d inserted himself into Brianna’s life. After everything that had happened with his brother and my sister, the last thing I expected was for him to obsess over the girl I’d brought into my family for Gareth.
Rick had never tried to hide his disdain for Gareth, because of what he did. Now… I couldn’t help but wonder what would happen, now that they both had clear feelings for the same girl. Things were getting pretty damn messy.
“She’s fine,” I said. “I’m taking her. I want you and Gareth to search the property. Don’t leave when you’re done. Just call me.” We couldn’t leave the body alone; one of them would have to stay until I got back—and seeing how I’d left Gareth with no car of his own, he’d have to stay as long as it took.
He didn’t question me. The only thing he said before hanging up was “Alright.” Even though we didn’t have the best history, even though I’d basically orchestrated the last twelve years of his life, he knew he could trust me with Brianna.
I wasn’t sure what that said about him, or about me.
I made it to the road, and after making sure no one was driving by, I backed out onto the road and got us going. It helped this was an older part of Eastcreek, untouched by modernization. I bet the houses scattered among the woods here still had septic tanks and well water.
As I drove, I thought, and the more I thought, the less I wanted to go home. I didn’t know how long Nicole would be gone; I didn’t want her coming home while I was with Brianna. And I sure as hell didn’t want to rush taking care of Brianna. Making sure she got cleaned up and that she was all right was my first priority, the biggest one out of this whole mess. A short second was finding out what happened and then dealing with the body.
Hmm. No, I think going home would be a mistake.
So instead of going to Montgomery Manor, I drove all the way through Eastcreek, heading to the next town over. Slightly bigger, but just as old and old-timey. It had a one-story motel on the outskirts of its borders, with a gravel parking lot and no security cameras whatsoever.
When you did what I did, you had to always be aware of those types of things. Twenty years ago, it wasn’t as much of a problem, but now everybody and their neighbors had cameras either in their lights or their doorbells, and damn near every business establishment had them, too.
I parked in front of the main office and turned around to Brianna. “Wait here,” I told her, and then I got out. I checked to make sure I didn’t have any obvious blood on me—had to wipe the hand I’d used to help Brianna up on the side of my pants. Thank goodness they were dark, so the bloodstains blended in. After throwing a quick glance around, I headed into the office.
A small space, and no one was behind the main desk, so I had to ring the bell a few times. After a minute, someone came out of the back room, an older woman in her seventies, with frizzy gray hair and glasses that looked like they were plucked from the eighties.
“I’d like a room,” I said when all she did was stare at me. Her lips were sunken in, and I wondered if she had dentures and didn’t have them in or something. None of my business, but if you ran a place like this, shouldn’t you be prepared to talk to your customers?
She said nothing, giving me her back, and she walked to the wall behind her and plucked a key off the rack. Yes, an actual key, not a key card or anything like that. The key was numbered with the room number, and she set it down on the counter once she returned to me. Her wrinkled gaze narrowed a bit, and she pointed to a sign on the wall that had her rates plastered in big, bold numbers.
I pulled out my wallet and gave her a crisp hundred-dollar bill. That would cover the night and the next, and then some, though I didn’t know how long we’d need the room. Once Gareth and Rick were finished at the property… well, we’d go from there. We might have to play a game of musical chairs in the form of musical cars until everyone was where they should be, since I didn’t want to leave the body at that house alone.
The woman took the bill and lifted it up to the light fixture above our heads to check if it was real. Hint: it was. I was Alistair Montgomery. I didn’t keep fake bills in my wallet. I’d found, throughout my life, it was smart to always carry a good chunk of cash with you; you never knew when it might come in handy, when you might not want evidence on your bank statement detailing where you’ve been.
“Keep the change,” I told her, grabbing the key off the counter and walking out. I got in my car and parked in front of our room. Luckily it was away from the main office, on the far left side. Not the last room, but the second to it, and based on the fact that there were no other cars parked near us in the lot, I’d say we were fine.
I got out of the car and went for the door, sticking the key in and opening it. The room was just as small and as dingy as I imagined. It had a single double bed, a small dresser with an old TV on top, and the smallest round table I’d ever seen, matched with two chairs. Most of the table was taken up by an old microwave.
Grabbing one of the chairs, I used it to prop open the door so it wouldn’t automatically close. I returned to my car, my hand on the back handle, and after making sure no one was around, that the old woman from the office wasn’t watching out of the window, I pulled open the door and helped Brianna out. She might’ve been wearing clothes right now, but her face and her arms were still quite covered in blood.
Her hair wasn’t so bad, not like that other time, but it wouldn’t surprise me if she needed to freshen it up a bit once she was back in Montgomery Manor.
After Brianna was out, I shut the door and pulled her along, getting her inside the motel room quickly. I let her hand go only so I could move the chair away from the door and let it close, and then I locked it, both the deadbolt and the chain, and I drew the curtains over the window, blocking out all light from outside. I locked my car and took her hand in mine once again, leading her to the bathroom.
I hoped, prayed it was a decent enough bathroom. No rusted fixtures or mold growing in the corners of the shower. I might be a killer, but I had my limits.
Thankfully, the bathroom was fine. Everything in it was old, including the shower curtain that looked like it hadn’t been changed in years, but I couldn’t see any mold. I yanked open the shower curtain, pushing it to the side, all while Brianna watched me with a vacant look on her face. I turned on the faucet in the tub, then the showerhead, and once the temperature of the water had warmed up some, I turned toward her.
She wasn’t here. Well, physically she was, but mentally, I’d put her back in that house, with the corpse and the knife. Her eyes weren’t focused on me, so I knew she wasn’t with me in the present.
What would she be like once she came back to herself? Would she be horrified at what she’d done, embarrassed like she’d been at first when I’d mentioned that I had seen her touch herself while locked in that room with Gareth’s latest kill? I didn’t know. We’d find out soon enough.
“Come on,” I told her, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the tub. “You need to get in, Brianna. You need to wash off. You can’t stay covered in blood.”
She let me guide her, let me help her into the tub, and the moment the water hit her, she shivered. Not because it was cold, but because the warm water must’ve felt good. Her eyes closed, and she tilted her head back, letting out a small, breathy moan I couldn’t even hear over the sound of the water.
I rolled up my sleeves, fold after fold of the fabric on my arms until the fold was just past my elbows. Brianna obviously wasn’t going to make this easy. I had to do everything—and that was fine. I didn’t mind taking care of her.
She was drenched by now, so her shirt clung to her body tightly, and I tried my best not to let my eyes fall to that chest, to those perky tits, where her nipples sat beneath the shirt, as pebbled as ever. I wrestled with myself as I fingered the bottom hem of the shirt and helped her out of it. Once the shirt was off, I tossed it down into the tub. The clothes had gotten bloodied; I’d have to bring her new ones from the house before she came home.
These ones would have to be disposed of differently.
