Till Death(30)

I saw what was in my mother’s truck.





Chapter 9




Pressing my hands over my face, I counted until the urge to vomit all over Cole’s hardwood floors passed. No matter what I did or what I tried to focus on, what I saw in that truck appeared in my mind, in all the gory details.

It reminded me of the only time I hadn’t been in the dark while I was . . . with the Groom. It had been during one of his moods, and he had a lot of them, almost as if he were two separate people. One moment he was almost . . . kind and gentle, as revolting as that still was. Other times he was violent and unpredictable, and breathing would set him off. It had been during that time, after being dragged out of that room to use the restroom, after my face and stomach burned from his fists, he’d shoved me into the room, blindfold off. It was then, as my knees had cracked off the floor, that I learned the lights were controlled from the outside.

He’d turned the lights on then, and it had taken several moments for my eyes to adjust to the brightness, and when they had . . . I’d thought I knew fear. I’d believed that I couldn’t have been terrorized any more than I was.

I’d been so wrong.

I saw everything in flashes, one after another, as if my brain was too overwhelmed to process it all at once.

Rusty red blood had dried in splatters all over the hardwood floor, most likely seeping through the subfloors. There were cuts in the floor, nicks I didn’t understand then. Fresher blood—my blood—was on the bed. And the walls—Oh God—I could still see those walls. Dried blood arced across the section above the bed, and I knew someone had lost their life right there, but it was what hung from the walls across from the bed I’d normally been chained to.

Bloody white wedding gowns.

Six of them.

Something hung from them by a thin piece of wire. Something I couldn’t even begin to process. Something that had taken years for me to accept.

A finger had hung from each dress.

And I knew then I was going to die in that room, like so many others. I’d screamed and screamed until my hoarse voice went out, until—

“Drink this.”

Lowering my hands, I looked up in time to see Cole place a cup of fizzing water on the end table beside the couch. He’d disappeared down the hall for a few moments and had returned with the cup. My hand shook as I reached over and picked up the cool glass. “Thank you.”

He stood there a moment. “We got . . . it out of the truck.”

Shuddering, I started to sip the Alka-Seltzer and then chugged it. The front door opened and I looked up. Through the front windows, blue and red lights flashed. Cole had called the police. I wasn’t exactly sure what the police could do in this situation, but state troopers had showed up about twenty minutes ago.

The trooper walked into the living room, his green uniform starched and pressed. He was an older man who looked like he’d seen weirder shit than what was found in my truck.

He looked over at Cole before speaking. “I have a few questions to ask.”

I nodded as I held the empty glass.

“Cole was telling me this truck belongs to your mother—Anne Keeton?” When I nodded once more, he asked, “Who knew you were using your mom’s truck besides her?”

“My friend Miranda knew. So did Angela. She’s a young woman who works as a housekeeper at the inn.” I paused. “And Jason knew. He stopped over at lunch. But none of them would’ve done that.”

“Jason . . . ?” Cole cocked his head to the side.

“Yeah. Remember him? He was in our econ class. He’s an—”

“Insurance agent now,” he finished. When he saw my expression, he said, “He has a billboard over by Route 9. Haven’t seen him in person in years though.”

“I know him,” the trooper said. “Pretty good man. Gets coffee every morning down at the Grind.”

My eyes met Cole’s. “I don’t know who could’ve done that or why.”

“Cole had mentioned your car was vandalized on Friday while it was outside the Scarlet Wench,” the trooper said. “Have you been having any problems with anyone recently?”

Shifting on the couch, unease filled me. “No. I haven’t even been in town long enough to tick someone off. I don’t understand this.”

The trooper didn’t have much to add after that. What law was broken tonight? Without a suspect or any idea of who could’ve done that, I wasn’t sure if this was a case of vandalism or harassment or something more sinister. Another call came in, a vehicle accident on the interstate, and it sounded way more pressing than what was happening here.

“Can I talk with you real quick?” the trooper said to Cole.

He eyed me and then said, “Sure.”

I rose and walked the empty glass over to the sink and washed it out as they went outside. Then I stood there, staring at nothing as I tried to grasp what just happened. I clenched the rim of the sink and took a deep breath, seconds away from freaking out. Like the kind of freak-out that would put the earlier one in the kitchen to shame.

I should’ve been home right now, sitting on my couch, eating a gallon of ice cream while mentally kicking myself. Who would’ve thought I’d prefer that?

I had no idea how long I stood there, but I heard the front door open again. Turning, I saw as Cole walked through the entry that the flashing lights were gone outside.