Don't Make a Sound (Sawyer Brooks #1)(35)

Somewhere along the way, she realized, she’d become a little less angry.

She had her moments. Only hours ago, in fact, she’d felt the fury after she’d stepped inside Brad’s house and he’d pulled her to the ground. The rage was still there, inside her, swirling around like a bubbling witch’s brew, but it felt different. The world had become less dark. The people close to her, the flowers and trees, and the kid with the sticky fingers, were all illuminating and real, giving off light, making it easier to breathe.





CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Sawyer had sat in the car for ten minutes, staring at the dead girl, oblivious to the photographers and forensics team as they worked the scene, before she finally climbed out of the truck. As she approached, she noticed red, swollen bumps on the girl’s skin where mosquitoes had fed on her blood.

She pulled out her cell phone and took two pictures before an officer told her to go back to the truck and stay there until Aspen was finished. Sawyer took a few steps in the other direction, and when the officer got busy with something else, she turned back around. The girl’s face was haunting, her eyes open and overly bright, as if frozen in that horrible moment of terror. The anguish and torment visible even in death.

Sawyer’s stomach cramped. She felt edgy, twitchy, a desire to scream out for Isabella. She wasn’t sure why this crime scene affected her differently than the one she’d seen at Forrest Hill Apartments.

She didn’t know either of the victims.

And then it hit her. The problem was River Rock. She could feel its tentacles crawling up her neck. This town was like a living, breathing entity, pulsing with an immoral darkness all its own. She turned away from the crime scene, but instead of returning to the truck, she walked toward the woods where the dappled shade covered her in semidarkness.

Decaying leaves, branches, and bark crunched beneath her feet. Despite the team of experts close by, it was quiet. The air had an earthy dampness she hadn’t felt when she’d stepped out of the truck. Ferns and brush and purple wildflowers covered much of the land. A spiky branch grabbed hold of her slacks, and she had to bend over to break free. Nearby, a piece of cloth, black and leathery, clung to another branch. She pulled the fabric from the prickly branch and examined it closely—cowhide or goatskin. The edges all around were uneven and torn. She tucked the scrap into her back pocket as she continued on. Up ahead she saw an area of the forest floor that had been flattened, as if a family of wild animals had slept there, huddled together.

“Sawyer! What are you doing?”

She looked up. Aspen was jogging toward her. “Just taking a walk,” she said as he approached. “I’ve been reading and researching crime scenes for years.” She shook her head. “But seeing that girl tied up like that . . . it was too much.”

“It’s a gruesome sight,” he agreed. “I’ve got to head back to the office. Chief Schneider wants me to stay there and man the phones.”

“Oh, okay,” she said. “Do you mind dropping me off on Frontage Road on your way?”

“Isn’t your car at the cemetery?”

“It is, but I didn’t want to take more of your time.”

“I’m good. I’ll take you there.”

“Thank you,” she said as they walked back to his truck. She climbed in and fastened her seat belt.

He revved the engine, then made a three-point turn to get back on the road, heading away from the crime scene. “So when are you leaving?” he asked as the wheels rumbled over uneven ground.

“Wednesday.”

He glanced her way. “You look white as a ghost. You really are shaken up, aren’t you?”

“I didn’t sleep well last night. There was Gramma’s funeral to deal with, and now this.” She scratched the side of her head, pulled a leaf out of her hair. “I don’t know what I was thinking, coming back here at all. I always feel the weight of River Rock on my shoulders when I visit.”

“What about your parents?” he asked. “Don’t you want to spend some time with them while you’re here?”

“Nothing’s changed, Aspen. My parents and I don’t see things the same way.” She blew out a breath. “What about your mom? What’s she up to these days?”

“I thought you knew. She passed away last year.”

“I had no idea. I’m sorry.”

He said nothing.

Sawyer couldn’t stop thinking about Isabella. Would she end up like Peggy and Avery? Forgotten?

The thought made her feel sick to her stomach.

Her cell phone buzzed. It was Sean Palmer. She declined the call. She would call him back after Aspen dropped her off.

“Was that your boyfriend?” Aspen asked.

“My boyfriend?” She snorted. “No. Sean Palmer is my new boss.”

“What happened to the old one?”

“Remember? I was promoted.”

“That’s right. Shouldn’t you take his call?”

“I’ll call him back later.” She turned toward Aspen and said, “I know you said that the people of River Rock want to move on—you know—leave those other murders in the past, but what about you? You’re a deputy. Doesn’t it bother you that two young girls were murdered and yet nobody cares?”