Dead Silence A Body Finder Novel

Chapter 20


THE SMELL OF STALE URINE HIT VIOLET FIRST—human or animal, she had no way of knowing, but it was strong—and it burned a path all the way to her sinuses. Instinctively her hand shot up and she covered her nose and her mouth, trying not to gag as the urine scent melded with the smells of mildew and old garbage and something else that festered just beneath it all.

Feces, Violet thought. It was probably feces.

“Chels,” she said timidly, hating that she was virtually blind now. For all she knew, the killer was standing directly in front of her.

Ahead of her, she heard voices, low and unintelligible voices. He was talking, but who was talking back? Was it Chelsea?

She took another step and noticed something else, a strange sound, like the trickling of water. But not a faucet, not steady and driven by man-made devices.

No, this sounded more like a stream. Like the soft cascading waters of a mountain stream.

Right here, in this crumbling old house.

Violet knew what it was. It was another imprint, of course.

He was a violent killer, and it made sense that he carried more than one.

She tried to find the other, the one she knew from the lake house—the old coffee grounds—but she couldn’t amid all the tangible smells that competed for her senses.

She heard more noises. Banging and thumping. They were moving away from her, making her feel braver so she stepped again, her hands out in front of her to keep from walking into walls. “Chelsea!” she called again, this time louder, bolder.

As the sounds moved farther, so did Violet. She knew they were upstairs now, she could hear them above her, but she had no idea where the stairs were. She fumbled around, feeling her way along walls, and straining to see through the narrow openings created between the imprints. But those glimpses were too brief, not giving her eyes enough time to adjust to the blackness.

Her fingers brushed over something sharp, a spike that seemed to be sticking up from the floor itself. Beside it, there was another one, equally jagged. She struggled to make sense of them in her mind as she took another step.

But her foot caught on something and she careened forward, barely having enough time to process the fact that she was falling right toward one of those stakes.

“Jesus, Vi,” Jay cursed as he caught her from behind. “What the hell are you doing? That thing almost impaled you.”

“They’re upstairs,” she answered, ignoring his lecture.

His voice dropped. “And you just thought you’d sneak up there while I wasn’t looking? Can you even see, Violet?” She felt a whoosh of air under her nose and she knew he was waving his hand in front of her face.

“Stop that!” she insisted, brushing his hand away, but as her hand passed through the air, she knew she’d missed, that her timing had been off.

His words were challenging now. “Violet, this is a bad idea. We can’t just storm this guy. What if he’s armed? We already know he’s dangerous.”

She reached for his hands, and finding them, implored him. “That’s right, Jay,” she whispered. “He’s dangerous. And he’s up there with Chelsea. We can’t just leave her there, can we? Who knows what he’s doing to her. What if he is armed? Maybe we can stop him before he . . .” She didn’t finish, she couldn’t. Jay hadn’t seen what she had.

The pause was short, much shorter than she’d expected. “You’re right. We can’t just leave her. You wait here, I’m doing this alone.”

It didn’t matter what he said, though. Because what she was really listening to was where his feet hit the stairs.

She followed almost immediately, never really intending to stay behind. He could be pissed at her later. For now, she had a friend to save.

“You never listen,” Jay grumbled quietly, but he didn’t stop, and she could sense the determination coming off him in every step he took. He was less cautious now, less worried about each creak beneath their feet.

Suddenly it seemed he wanted to find Chelsea as badly as she did.

He kept Violet behind him, which was good, because she needed to use him as her guide. Him and the imprints only she could sense.

The water sound grew clearer, stronger. It drew her as surely as the flashing kaleidoscope that blocked her view.

But as they reached the top of the stairs, Violet knew something was wrong.

Terribly, terribly wrong.

The imprints split there. Right there at the landing.

One imprint—the colors—pulling her one way. The rushing water pulling her the other.

She heard Jay then, above the babbling sound of water. “Which way?”

Vacillating, she turned her head in each direction, trying to make sense of it all.

How could there be two imprints, leading her in two different directions?

“I—I don’t know.” Her words hit the air at the same time they both heard it. The moan. Low and muffled and almost imperceptible, but there all the same.

“This way,” Jay said, dragging Violet along. Dragging her toward the sound of the stream.





SILENCE IS GOLDEN


THEY WERE PRACTICALLY RIGHT OUTSIDE THE door now. Right on top of him.

He glanced around, trying to figure a way out, but he was trapped. If only she’d be quiet. If only she’d lie there and be still.

He thought about dosing her again, but there was no time. Besides, he’d given the rest of his stash to Kisha right before hiding her in the attic.

Better, he’d told her, if they split up. Abercrombie and the girl were looking for him and Colton’s girl, not for her. He’d told her to stay there, no matter what happened, no matter what she heard, until she was sure it was safe to come out again. She could stay quiet as long as she wasn’t dope sick.

Colton’s girl whipped her head to the side, but was still unaware of anything around her. She’d passed out halfway up the stairs.

He heard their voices. And even farther away, much farther, he heard sirens.

And then she moaned.

Damn! Damn, damn, damn! He dropped to his knees and covered her mouth with his hand but it was already too late. He could hear their footsteps now too, and it was only a matter of seconds before they busted down the door. Before they found their way inside.

Before they caught him.

He bent forward, pressing a gentle kiss on the girl’s cheek. “I’m sorry,” he said almost sadly as he released the blade on the knife in his hand.

And then plunged it into her gut.