Chapter 14

14

T ension filled the truck on the short drive to the property Calvin had found. Elsie struggled not to fidget in the uncomfortable silence. Witnessing Dean kissing his ex-wife was like a knife in the heart, but she had to put that behind her. If he wanted to give his marriage another chance, that was his choice. One she would respect.

Besides, all of her energy needed to be aimed in one place. Figuring out what the hell had happened to Mila.

The truck bounced along a gravel lane, partially overgrown with weeds. Elsie gripped the handle above her head to steady herself. “So Malcom actually lives here and not the apartment above the bar?”

“Calvin thinks so,” Dean said through gritted teeth. “If the house is anything like this damn driveway, I’m afraid of what we’re walking into.”

Dean maneuvered the truck along a narrow strip of gravel between two trees and parked beside Calvin’s SUV. A ranch-style house with dark brown siding and cracked windows sat in a sea of weeds. A rusted white sedan was parked on the other side of Calvin—who leaned against the hood of his vehicle with his phone in his hand.

“Is anyone here?” she asked.

“Not sure. I didn’t get a chance to talk to Calvin much before we left. Hell, to be honest, my mind was more preoccupied with trying to talk with you.” He parked then shot her a timid smile.

Her resolve to not make an issue of hurt feelings weakened. “There’s no need for a conversation. We’re friends who might have been more but something else popped up. I don’t fault you for wanting to give your marriage a second chance. You didn’t plan on any of this to happen. No harm, no foul.”

Before he could say another word, she hopped out of the car and marched toward Calvin with her head held high. She might be willing to step aside for the sake of not making things any more awkward, but she didn’t need to sit there and listen to his “I’m sorry” speech. She had more dignity than that.

Calvin straightened and slipped his phone back in his pocket. “Morning.”

“Morning,” she echoed. “How’d you find this place?”

“Property is owned by Celia Miller, Malcom’s sister. I ran a background check on her, and she has another residence, as well as a business, in Alabama.” He paused, lifting his chin to acknowledge Dean before continuing. “Looks like that’s where she lives, along with her husband, two kids, and three dogs. I’d be surprised if she spends any time in this shithole.”

Dean shoved his hands in the front pocket of his jeans. “Nice work. Is anyone home?”

“Rang the bell a few times and no one answered. I peeked through the windows as best as possible and didn’t see anyone.”

“So what now?” Elsie asked. “Can’t we just go inside and look around?”

Calvin grinned. “Ask former Officer Kingston. He’s a little more rigid about the rules than I am. Technically, going inside without a reason or invitation is breaking and entering. But my thoughts are geared more around no harm, no foul.”

She turned pleading eyes on Dean. “Well? Willing to bend the rules a little?”

Lifting his eyes to the sky, Dean sighed. “You told me last night you make your own rules. Might as well make a few more. But stay close. Even if things seem quiet, this could be the residence of a criminal. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

A shudder ran down her spine that had nothing to do with the wind whipping through the trees. Staying close to Dean wouldn’t have been a hardship yesterday, but now she wanted space. She’d stay as close as she could if it meant getting into a house that could have the answers they were looking for.

Calvin dipped his chin. “Let’s do this.”

Calvin took the lead on the uneven pathway to the front of the house. She stayed half a step behind him.

“I’ll try knocking again before we let ourselves in,” Calvin said.

She nodded, although no one waited for her response before Calvin fisted his hand and pounded on the front door.

Seconds ticked by. Nothing happened. No sound. No shifting of the house. No answer to the persistent knocking.

Calvin glanced over his shoulder. “Here we go.”

He tried the knob, which turned without issue, and pushed open the door.

“Hello?” Calvin yelled into the house. “Anyone home?”

Darkness and a wave of stale air greeted them. An unknown odor assaulted her. She covered her mouth and nose with her hand as she stepped inside. “Doesn’t look like anyone’s been here in a while by that smell. Either that, or whoever lives here doesn’t care about how much it stinks.”

Both men armed themselves, Calvin training his gun in front of him while Dean kept his pointed toward the floor.

Bile sloshed in her stomach. “What is it?” Alarm tightened her muscles. A sense of dread loomed over her. A million questions danced in her head, but she didn’t dare speak. Didn’t dare move.

“Try not to touch anything,” Dean said. “We’ll clear the house, okay? Just like last night at your place.”

An image of the knife plunged in her pillow flashed in her brain. Something told her what they’d find in this house would be much worse.

“I looked at the layout before we got here. It’s pretty basic,” Calvin said. “We’re in the only living area. A small kitchen is on the other side, and this hall leads to one bedroom and a single bath.”

“I’ll head down the hall,” Dean said. “Be alert.”

Calvin peeled off to the left, she and Dean walked straight ahead. Her body jumped at every sound, her mind envisioning what they’d find behind each closed door.

Please don’t be Mila.

Pushing open the first door revealed a small bathroom. Dean flipped on the light. A rusted tub was visible, the moldy curtain shoved to the side. A pedestal sink stood beside the toilet. Dean tensed and took another step inside.

She glanced around the space until her gaze landed on the sink. “Oh my God. Is that blood?” Red streaks stained the white porcelain, splattering the floor.

“Looks like it.” Dean searched inside the slim linen closet then ushered her back to the hall. “Found blood in the bathroom,” he yelled to Calvin then faced her. “You okay?”

Her mouth went dry, but she nodded. “Keep going.”

He studied her for a beat, as if wanting to make sure she was telling the truth. Without another word, he turned to the last door and shoved it open.

The offensive smell of blood and death slid against her. Dread curdled in her belly. She held her breath and fought not to squeeze her eyes shut. An unmade bed was shoved to the corner and clothing spilled from an open dresser drawer.

A crumpled body with a pool of blood beneath lay in the middle of the room.

Instinct shifted Dean to block Elsie’s view of the body. Adrenaline shot through his veins. He didn’t know what he expected to find, but it definitely wasn’t a homicide.

“Oh my God, is it Mila?” Elsie shrieked. She pushed against his chest, trying to shove past him. “I have to see. I have to make sure it’s not her.”

Dean grabbed her arms and rooted her in place. He dipped his chin to stare her in the eyes. “Hey. Look at me.”

She stilled, her breath heaving from her body in ragged spurts.

“That’s not Mila, but I need to figure out who it is and make sure whoever killed him isn’t still here.”

Her head bobbed up and down, but her eyes remained wide and filled with fear.

“I want you to turn around and face the hallway while I double check the rest of the room. You don’t need to see this, okay?” He kept his voice low and calm as if speaking to a frightened animal.

“Okay.” Slowly, she spun around. Tremors ran through her body and the sound of her teeth chattering cut through the silence of the room.

He struggled not to wrap his arms around her, but after the morning they’d had, he doubted she wanted his comfort. Not to mention there were more important things to see to at the moment. Tiptoeing around the body, he noted thick, dark blood dried around a gaping wound at the side of the man’s head—a headful of ginger-colored hair. He was careful not to disturb the scene as he made sure no other surprises waited in the room.

“Holy shit,” Calvin said. “What happened here?”

Dean crossed back to Elsie’s side. He tentatively pressed his fingers to her back, urging her into the narrow hall. “Looks like Malcom Miller’s dead. Let’s go outside and call it in.”

Calvin worked his jaw back and forth then led the way to the front yard.

Elsie hurried to the weed-covered sidewalk and bent over at the waist. She drew in large gulps of air.

“I’ll call the sheriff’s department,” Calvin said. “You take care of Elsie.”

Dean hovered a palm above Elsie’s shoulder blades, torn between touching her and wanting to respect her boundaries. “Keep taking deep breaths,” he said. “Give yourself a few minutes.”

“Will I ever forget that smell?” Her voice shook, each word louder than the last. She gulped in one more big breath and straightened, facing him with questioning eyes and ashen skin.

“I wish I could lie and tell you that everything you witnessed in that house will fade from your memory until it’s all gone, but that’s not the truth. Just like those wounds we talked about, this is something that gets easier to deal with as time passes but will probably never completely go away.”

“What about the guilt?”

He frowned. “Guilt? What do you mean?”

“Guilt for the relief I felt when I realized it wasn’t Mila laying on that dirty floor.” She rubbed a palm over the base of her throat. “I don’t know who’s inside, but he was a person. I shouldn’t have felt an ounce of joy at his death. I’m horrible.”

“No, you’re human, and your reaction was completely natural. You’re not happy someone is dead, you’re happy Mila is alive. Those are two very different things.”

“Okay,” Calvin said, striding toward them. “I talked to Owen. He’s on his way out here with the coroner. He wasn’t exactly pleased that we went inside the house but can’t be to upset since we found who we believe is Malcom Miller.”

Dean scrubbed his hand over his jaw. Elsie wasn’t the only one who’d have a hard time getting the grisly scene they’d uncovered out of her head, but if discovering what happened inside Malcom’s house led to finding Mila, he’d gladly be haunted by a hundred dead bodies. “They’ll open an official investigation into his death. Hopefully that will give us more answers regarding him and Justin Pauly. And if the sheriff’s department can somehow tie Justin or Malcom to Mila, that could be the break we need.”

Calvin grimaced. “They won’t have a problem tying Mila to this house.”

Unease danced down Dean’s back.

Elsie stiffened. “Why not?”

“I found some dirty material in the trash can. Looked like someone had ripped it off a pant leg.”

Elsie’s jaw tightened. Her arms wrapped around her waist, but she lifted her chin as if bracing for impact. “Was it blue with yellow smiley faces?”

Calvin nodded.

“She was here.” Elsie’s voice was strong and crisp as the autumn air. “Now we need know what they did with her.”