Throughout her hesitant confession, Clay’s expression never once changed. “I hear you. Just know that no matter what happens in there, I’ll be right here with you.”
His unwavering support humbled Ellie, cutting through the last of the indecision trapping her in limbo. Clay was good for his word. He’d stand by her side however this played out.
The burden was now on Ellie to prove herself worthy of such unreserved confidence. “Thank you.” Her voice trembled with emotion, but her hands were steady as she pulled out her phone to dial Chief Browning.
Before she could, it started ringing. Speak of the devil. “Chief?”
“Detective Kline. Carl alerted me to the situation. What’s your current location?”
“We followed Kingsley’s phone to a house on Oak Drive.” She rattled off the street number.
“Is he inside?”
“No confirmation one way or another, but I suspect so, yes. Want us to do recon?”
“No, sit tight. We’re only twenty minutes out.”
Relief warred with impatience. Ellie was tempted to protest, but caution won. The chief was right. Waiting for backup was the smart play. “All right, I’ll—”
A gunshot boomed, piercing the quiet neighborhood. Ellie froze as her imagination conjured a new vision of her mom…falling, arms outstretched with a perfect round hole in the middle of her forehead. Gasping for breath and bleeding out while Kingsley threw back his head and laughed.
No.
The thought of losing her mother to Kingsley was worse than imagining her own cold death.
Adrenaline surging, Ellie dropped the phone and unholstered her gun, almost tumbling out of the SUV in her frantic state. Clay leapt out from the driver’s side while the chief’s tinny voice yelled from the floorboard.
“Kline, was that gunfire? Kline!”
No one answered. There wasn’t time. Ellie’s shoes hit the pavement, and she was racing toward the house.
34
Creak.
The noise penetrated Bethany’s sleep from a distance, like a scream traveling underwater. Drowsy, she ignored the disturbance and cuddled up to the long, warm shape beside her.
Don’t wanna wake up yet. Go away.
Refusing to be put off, the siren in her head grew more insistent.
Wake up.
Wake! Up!
With a small cry, Bethany’s eyes burst open. What was that noise?
Her heart pounded as she laid there still and quiet, waiting for her eyes to grow accustomed to the dark. With no clock or phone to check the time, she couldn’t be sure of how long she’d been asleep. If she had to guess, she’d say an hour? Maybe two? Not much more than that, based on how her body felt all heavy, like she was stuck in quicksand, and how it hurt to think.
As her vision adjusted, the pitch-black faded to gray, allowing Bethany to scour the contents of the room. No one was creeping across the floor or crouching beneath the window. Once she’d cleared all four corners with no sign of an intruder, Bethany’s fear began to ease.
See? No more creaking. Probably just a bad dream or the poky old mattress, groaning when she’d rolled over.
Soft snores coming from the lump beneath the covers calmed her worries even more. Along with the arm draped across her chest, the little snort-gasps reminded Bethany that she wasn’t alone in the tiny bedroom any longer. The nice lady was here to keep her company.
After yawning so wide that her jaw cracked, Bethany wiggled closer to Helen’s warm body. Time to go back to sleep. With a happy sigh, she allowed her eyelids to drift shut.
Creak.
Her eyes shot open again, heart galloping while the rest of her body was paralyzed by fear. She definitely hadn’t imagined that. Not a dream. Someone really was sneaking down the hallway to their room.
Part of her was too scared to move. Maybe this was one of those times her mama had warned her about, when Bethany should play possum for real. If she stayed very, very still, whatever bad thing was out there might think she was dead and go away.
Except Bethany knew, deep in her bones, that Doctor Rotten was too smart to fall for that trick. Which meant she needed help. Fast.
Bethany shook Helen’s shoulder and pressed her mouth to the woman’s ear. “Wake up.” She kept her other hand close to Helen’s face, ready to cover her new friend’s mouth in case she woke up noisy.
They couldn’t be noisy now.
The woman stirred, and her eyelids fluttered open. “What is it?” The question came in the faintest of whispers, which was a tremendous relief.
“Listen.”
They strained their ears. Nothing. The silence stretched long enough that Bethany started to doubt herself. Maybe it had been a dream, after all. Sometimes that happened when—
Creak!
Helen’s fingers tightened on Bethany’s arm. She’d heard the noise too.
The quiet resumed while Bethany’s heart pounded in her legs, her arms, even her toes. She counted out fifteen beats before the next creak, which sounded closer this time.
Helen shifted their positions so that Bethany was farther from the door, and Helen’s body formed a barrier between the two. The footsteps continued at that same slow pace, like the intruder was either in no hurry or trying extra hard to be sneaky.
Bethany could picture both of those being true of Doctor Rotten.
Every creak of the floorboard sent Bethany’s heart hammering a little faster and made her head go all dizzy and weird. Cold sweat broke out all over her skin. Her brain kept yelling at her to hide, but where? How? The room was too tiny. Besides, Doctor Rotten knew she was here. If she crawled under the covers, he’d just throw them off and drag her out by the hair. Maybe even lock her back up in the refrigerator.
Or worse.
A truly terrible idea occurred to her next. What if Bethany had been so bad at dinner that he’d decided to kill them? Like that blonde woman who’d knocked on the front door? Her teeth started chattering when she remembered the crack of the poor lady’s neck. The thump when she’d dropped to the floor and never moved again.
Bethany never should have looked at the lady
