No One But You (Silver Springs #2)(81)

He closed his eyes as he listened to Jayden downstairs.

“Want me to carry it, Mommy?”

“No, honey. It’s too heavy for you. Here, let me.”

“I can do it!”

“No, you get the other one. There’s nothing that can get broken in there.”

Planning to go in and lock the door behind him, before Jayden and Sadie could even realize he was in the house, Dawson picked up the cleaning supplies, removed the key from his pocket and, with a sigh, inserted it into the lock. He had to do this, and he had to do it now. He couldn’t let Angela down. He’d already let his parents down by picking up that hitchhiker. If he hadn’t done that, they’d probably still be around and Angela wouldn’t be in an institution—

He froze in the open doorway. There was no blood spatter on the walls or bed, no overturned or broken furniture, no mangled lamp. Even the smell was different—not musty stale but tinged with disinfectant.

His gaze shifted from the bed frame, which no longer had its mattress (the police had taken that when the crime occurred and never brought it back), to the drapes flapping near the open window, to the dresser where what hadn’t been broken and removed had been carefully arranged.

“Sadie?” he called.

He heard her tell Jayden he could have only one of something before footfalls indicated she was climbing the stairs.

He turned as she stepped into the room behind him.

“I didn’t realize you’d come in from the fields.” Her eyes dropped to the cleaning supplies before returning to his face.

He gestured around him. “Did you do this?” It had to be her, didn’t it? Unless, while the three of them were in LA, she’d let the Turner boys come in, there was no one else.

She seemed a little nervous when she nodded, as if she feared she might’ve overstepped.

“When?”

She cleared her throat. “After you were asleep last night I got the key off your dresser, where you put...well, where you put all the stuff from your pockets when you undress.”

He couldn’t believe she’d found a time when he was unconscious enough not to hear her. He felt as if he’d spent most of the past two nights hoping she’d visit his room, but for very different reasons than to pick up a key. “Why?”

She averted her gaze. “Because I knew it had to be done, and I couldn’t bear the thought of you having to do it. I hope... I hope it doesn’t upset you that I was so...presumptuous. I was afraid if I offered, you’d only turn me down—like you did Eli and Gavin.”

“I would’ve turned you down. It couldn’t have been easy to...to do what you did.”

“It wasn’t.” She wiped her palms on her jeans as if she was still trying to get the blood off. “It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.”

“I didn’t mean for you to get stuck with the job. I told you in the beginning that I didn’t expect you to take on something like...like this. That it wasn’t part of your duties.” He shook his head in disbelief. “I was planning to do it myself.”

“I’m just glad you don’t have to.” She touched his arm. “Thanks for everything you’ve done for me,” she said softly, and taking the bucket away from him, she carried it back downstairs.

Dawson closed the door before walking over to the window. He hadn’t cried since the murders occurred. He’d been too damn angry. He didn’t want to break down now; he just couldn’t help it. A tear rolled down each cheek as he stared at the box spring that no longer had a mattress. His parents were really gone, completely out of the house. He’d known that acknowledgment would be hard. But it was Sadie’s kindness that had been his undoing.

*

While Jayden watched cartoons, Sadie put away the cleaning supplies and unpacked the items she’d purchased—the hamper she’d been meaning to get for Dawson, a few groceries for the meals she had planned in the next few days and some more underwear and clothes for Jayden. She hadn’t heard Dawson come out of his parents’ bedroom even though there wasn’t anything left to be done in there. As difficult as it had been to see the blood, the missing mattress, the broken lamp and the hatchet marks on the headboard and wall, all of which had made the details of the killing so much more vivid, she’d ignored the reality of what she was doing and scoured that place from top to bottom.

So what was he doing now? Was it just that she couldn’t hear his footsteps above the TV?

After she put the butter, cream and chicken breasts in the fridge, she walked to the base of the stairs and gazed up. The door was closed, but she was pretty sure he hadn’t come out. Was he okay? She didn’t want to intrude, but she was beginning to wonder if she should check on him, see if he needed a little consolation.

Her phone went off before she could decide whether to go up. She thought it might be Lolita from the restaurant. She’d been waiting to hear all about her boss’s meeting with Chief Thomas, but it was her landlady, Maude.

“Maude, how are you?” she said.

“Fine. More important, how are you and Jayden?”

Because she and Maude had checked on each other before, Sadie knew this was merely an intro to something more important than the usual small talk. She figured Maude had some information from the insurance company or an estimate from the police on how much longer it would be before they could start the cleanup and reconstruction phase. “We’re okay, thanks to Dawson.”