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“She dropped me off here.”
“For what?”
“Sleep.”
“You’re sleeping here? At the construction site?”
“That’s why I’m house hunting.”
He rolls his eyes. “And after that?”
I gesture to the ditch. “This. Work and sleep. I haven’t seen her since that night.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Shocker. What about her phone, purse, personal things?” I ask, trying to remember what she had with her that night. “Did you see those things in her house?”
“Yep—all sitting on the coffee table. A frozen dinner had gone cold in the microwave, a half drunk glass of wine sat on the counter. The television was on, the heater on blast.”
“So she went home after she dropped me off. Is her Jeep there?”
“Yep.”
“Is there any sign of forced entry?”
“Nope.”
The implication hits me like a wrecking ball. If Sylvia was taken from her house, with no signs of struggle or forced entry, then whoever took her was likely someone she knew.
Me.
Me, me, me.Iam the only person Sylvia Stone has been seen with lately. The only person she would trust.
My stomach roils. Flashbacks race behind my eyes. This is eerily similar to how it started all those years ago, right before my life was taken from me.
My heart roars in my chest. I grip onto the end of the shovel to steady myself.
“Listen.” I force eye contact. “I don’t know where she is, Detective.”
“Well how about you come to the station to answer a few more questions, you know, considering you were the last person seen with her.”
“I’m not going to the station you son of a bitch. You have no reason to arrest me.”
“Where did you get those scratches on your face, Cohen? Really, the truth.”
“None of your business.”
“They look like a woman’s fingernails…exactlylike that.”
I feel my body begin to tremble.
He steps closer, so close I can smell his rancid coffee breath. “I won’t tell… Being in prison changes a man, I get it. You need a devil-worshipping sex club to get your rocks off now, I get it.”
I grit my teeth so hard that my jaw throbs in pain.
He laughs, takes a step back. “So. What were you guys doing out at that house? The truth.” He glances at his watch. “I’ve got an appointment to get to.”
“None of your damn business.”
