Never Never: Part Two (Never Never #2) (11 page)

I’m writing everything down, but I’m also nodding my head. I had a feeling she wasn’t really into the guy. It seems like my relationship with Charlie was stretched as thin as air, and she was just doing what she could to test our strength.

“What are Charlie’s religious beliefs? Was she known to be into voodoo or spells or anything like that?”

“Not that I know of,” he says. “We were all raised Catholic. We don’t really practice unless it’s a significant holiday.”

I make note of that and try to think of another question. I still have so many, and I don’t know what to go with next. “Is there anything else? Anything out of the ordinary that happened last week?”

I can immediately tell he’s hiding something by the change in his facial expression and the way he shifts in his seat.

“What is it?”

He pulls his feet off the seat and leans forward, lowering his voice. “The police…they were at the house today. I heard them questioning Ezra about finding anything unusual. At first she denied it, but I think her guilt got the best of her. She mentioned finding sheets in your room. She said there was blood on them.”

I lean back against my booth and stare up at the ceiling. This isn’t good.

“Wait,” I say, leaning forward again. “That was last week. Before Charlie went missing. It can’t be tied to her if that’s what they’re thinking.”

“No, I know that. Ezra told them that too. That it was last week and she saw Charlie that day. But still, Silas. What the hell were you doing? Why was there blood on your sheets? The way police think, they’re probably assuming you beat Charlie or something, and that it finally went too far.”

“I’d never hurt her,” I say defensively. “I love that girl.”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I shake my head, not understanding why I even said them. I’ve never even met her. I’ve never even spoken to her.

But I’ll be damned. I just said I love her, and I meant it straight to my core.

“How can you love her? You claim you can’t remember her.”

“I may not remember her, but I sure as hell still feel her.” I stand up. “And that’s why we need to find her. Starting with her father.”

Landon tries to calm me down, but he has no idea how frustrating it is to lose eight entire hours when you only have forty-eight hours total.

It’s after eight o’clock at night already, and we’ve officially wasted the entire day. As soon as we left the restaurant, we headed toward the prison to pay Brett Wynwood a visit. A prison that’s almost three hours away. Couple that with a two-hour wait, only to be told we aren’t on the visitor list and there’s nothing we can do today to change it…I’m more than pissed.

I can’t afford to make mistakes when I have just hours left to figure out where she is before I lose everything I’ve learned since yesterday.

We pull up next to Landon’s car. I kill my ignition and step out of the car, walking to the gate. There are two padlocks on it, and it looks like they’re never used.

“Who bought this house?” I ask Landon.

I hear him laugh behind me, so I turn around. He sees that I lack humor in this situation, so he rolls his head.

“Come on, Silas. Drop the act, already. You know who bought the house.”

I breathe steadily in through my nose and out my mouth, reminding myself that I can’t blame him for thinking I’m making all of this up. I nod and then turn to face the gate again. “Humor me, Landon.”

I can hear him kick at the gravel and groan. And then he says, “Janice Delacroix.”

The name means nothing to me, but I walk back to my truck and open the door to make a note of the name. “Delacroix. Is that a French name?”

“Yeah,” he says. “She owns one of those tourist shops downtown. Reads tarots or some shit like that. No one knows how she was able to afford the place. Her daughter goes to our school.”

I stop writing.
The tarot reader.
That explains the picture, and also why she wouldn’t give me more information on the house—because it seemed weird to her that I was asking about her home.

“So people actually
live
here?” I say, turning around to face him.

He shrugs. “Yeah. It’s just the two of them though—her and her daughter. They probably use a different entrance. Doesn’t look like this gate gets opened much.”

I stare past the gate…at the house. “What’s her daughter’s name?”

“Cora,” he says. “Cora Delacroix. But everyone calls her The Shrimp.”

No one comes for a long time. I think I’m being punished. I’m thirsty and I need to go to the bathroom. After holding it as long as I can, I finally pee in the plastic cup on my breakfast tray and set the full cup in the corner of the room. I pace back and forth, pulling at my hair until I think I’m going to go crazy.

What if no one comes back? What if they’ve left me here to die?

The door won’t budge; I bruise my fists pounding on it. I scream for someone to help me until my voice grows hoarse.

I’m sitting on the floor with my head in my hands when the door finally opens. I jump up. It’s not the nurse—it’s someone else this time, younger. Her scrubs hang off her small body. She looks like a little kid playing dress-up. I eye her warily as she moves across my small room. She notices the cup in the corner and raises her eyebrows.

“Do you need to use the facilities?” she asks.

“Yes.”

She sets the tray down and my stomach grumbles.

“I asked to see the doctor,” I say.

Her eyes dart left to right.
She’s nervous. Why?

“The doctor is busy today,” she says, not looking at me.

“Where is the other nurse?”

“It’s her day off,” she says. I can smell the food. I am so hungry.

“I need to use the bathroom,” I say. “Can you take me?”

She nods her head, but she looks afraid of me. I follow her out of the little room and into the small hallway. What kind of hospital has the toilets in a separate area from their patients’ rooms? She stands off to the side while I use the restroom, wringing her hands and turning an awful shade of pink.

When I’m finished, she makes the mistake of turning toward the door. When she opens it, I pull the piece of pipe from my hospital gown and hold it toward her neck.

She faces me again and her beady eyes grow wide with fear.

“Drop the keys and back up slowly,” I say. “Or I’ll stick this straight in your throat.”

She nods. The keys clank against the ground, and I advance toward her, my weapon extended toward her neck. I push her backward, into the room, and shove her down on the bed. She falls back and cries out.

Then I’m out the door, taking the keys with me. I pull the door shut as she flies toward it, her mouth open in a scream. We struggle for a moment, her trying to yank it open while I get the key into the lock and hear the metal click.

My hands are shaking as I sort through the keys, trying to find the right one to open the next door. I don’t really know what to expect when I step through. A hospital hallway, nurses and doctors? Will someone be there to drag me back to that tiny room?

No.

There’s no way I’m going back. I’ll hurt anyone who tries to stop me from getting out of here.

I don’t see a hospital or staff or anyone else when I open the door. What I see instead is a very impressive wine cellar. Dusty bottles sit in hundreds of little holes. It smells of ferment and dirt. A staircase runs up one side of the cellar. There is a door at the top.

I run for the stairs, stubbing my toe hard on the concrete and feeling the wet blood run over my foot. I almost slip on it, but I catch onto the railing in time.

The top of the stairs opens to a kitchen, a single light illuminating the counters and floors. I don’t pause to look around. I need to find…a door! I grab the handle, and this time it’s not locked. I cry out in triumph as it flies open. The night air hits me in the face. I breathe it in gratefully.

Then I run.

“You can’t trespass, Silas!” Landon yells.

I’m trying to scale the gate, but my foot keeps slipping. “Help me over,” I yell down to him.

He walks up to me and offers his hands, palms up, despite the fact that he’s still verbally trying to stop me from climbing over. I step into his hands and he hoists me higher, allowing me to grab the bars toward the top of the gate.

“I’ll be back in ten minutes. I just want to check out the property.” I know he doesn’t believe a word I’ve said today, so I leave out the fact that I think this Cora girl knows something. If she’s inside that house, I’m going to force her to talk to me.

I finally make it to the top and down the other side. When my feet hit the dirt, I stand up. “Don’t leave until I get back.”

I turn and take a look at the house. It’s about two hundred yards away, hidden behind rows of Weeping Willow trees. They look like long arms, swaying toward the front door, coercing me to move forward.

I slowly make my way down the path that leads to the porch. It’s a beautiful house. I can see why Charlie missed it so much. I look up at the windows. Two of them are lit up on the top floor, but the bottom floor is completely dark.

I’m almost to the porch that extends across the entire front of the house. My heart is racing in my chest so fast that I can actually hear it. Other than the occasional insect noise and the pounding of my pulse, it’s completely quiet out here.

Until it’s not.

The bark is so loud and so close, it rumbles in my stomach and vibrates through my chest. I can’t see where it’s coming from.

I freeze in my tracks, careful not to make any sudden movements.

A deep growl rolls through the air like thunder. I slowly look over my shoulder without turning my body.

The dog is standing behind me, lips pulled back in a snarl, teeth so white and sharp they look like they’re glowing.

He rears back on his hind legs, and before I can run or look around for something to fight him off, he’s in the air, lunging toward me.

Straight for my throat.

I can feel his teeth pierce the skin on the back of my hand, and I know if I hadn’t covered my throat, those teeth would be in my jugular right now. The massive strength of this animal knocks me to the ground. I can feel the flesh give way on my hand as he thrashes his head from side to side and I try to fight him off.

But then something slams into it or on top of it—a whimper and then a thud.

And then silence.

It’s too dark to see what just happened. I take a deep breath and try to stand.

I look down at the dog, and a sharp piece of metal is protruding from his neck. Blood is pooling around his head, tinting the grass the color of midnight.

And then a strong scent of flowers…
lilies
…surrounds me in a rush of wind.

“It’s you.”

I recognize her voice immediately, even though it comes out in a whisper. She’s standing to the right of me, her face illuminated by the moonlight. Tears are streaking their way down her cheeks, and her hand is cupped over her mouth. She’s wide-eyed, staring at me in shock.

She’s here.

She’s alive.

I want to take her in my arms and hug her and tell her it’s okay, that we’re going to figure this out. But she more than likely has no idea who I am.