Rain pattered against the roof of the car, streaming down the windshield and casting the world in a blurry haze. The leather seat was stiff and chilly beneath Elena’s thin jeans. She clenched the passenger side door handle. The sharp plastic edges dug into her skin.
“Are you sure this car has enough clearance?” she surveyed the flooded road before them. She was about to suggest turning around when a beige minivan sped past them, throwing up a tidal wave of water that crashed over the car. Sebastian muttered obscenities, and Elena flashed the driver an obscene gesture.
A light turned red ahead of them. Sebastian hit the brake too hard, and the car skidded sideways. Elena whipped her head around. The car behind them swerved into the other lane and sped through the intersection, missing an oncoming truck by inches.
From the back seat, Sandra clapped her hands and laughed. “This is the most fun I’ve had in ages!”
“Don’t encourage him,” Elena said. At the same time, she wondered about the change in Sebastian’s behavior. As kids, he’d been the voice of reason, talking them down from whatever scheme Chloe cooked up.
What changed?
They continued driving at a more sedate pace until they spotted the turnoff. Elena closed her eyes in silent relief. Her stress levels were high enough without having to worry about rolling into the ditch.
The rain worsened, a deafening chorus of water hitting the roof of the car. Elena leaned closer to the windshield. There was a brick building across the road. The white front door was protected from the deluge by a small awning.
Sebastian parked across the street, unbuckled his seat belt, removed the keys from the ignition, and then stared at them in his hand.
The clouds parted and allowed a thin stream of sunlight. Sandra’s head popped up between the seats. “Well? Are we going in or what? I’ve got other things to do today, you know.”
Elena leaned over the seat and raised her eyebrows.
“Oh,” Sandra said. “I’ll go get started without you.” Then she hurried out of the car and raced across the road.
Elena turned to Sebastian, and his expression made her heart cry out in sympathy.
“It’s my fault she’s dead,” he said, staring at the keys in his hand. “If I’d showed up a few minutes earlier—” He clenched his fingers around the keys. “I don’t know if I can go in there.”
“This is not your fault,” Elena said, willing him to believe it. “There is nothing you could have done. Chloe loved you. She was lucky to have you as a brother.”
For a moment, his eyes glossed over. But the next second, his expression shuttered, and he turned away, pulling his hand from her grasp.
“You’re wrong,” he said. He closed his eyes, and his throat worked. “She loved Edward, not me.”
The pattering slowed and stopped, and Elena spied a dark shape hurrying toward the car. She grasped for the door handle before recognizing Sandra.
The back door opened, and Sandra leapt inside. She slicked back her hair and pulled her phone out of her pocket. “There we go. Commercial locks are a piece of cake.”
Elena rooted around the car for a towel or napkin, but when she saw the ride share app open on Sandra’s phone, she stopped. “Wait, you’re not coming?”
Sandra shook her head, tapping on her phone. “Nah. I’ve got to work on Chloe’s laptop. Plus,” she clicked the power button and slid her phone back into her pocket. “I’m dying for a hot shower. My ride will be here in fifteen.”
****
Elena shimmied through the door of the house, pushing away the cats twining around her legs, crying for attention. She made it inside and hooked the cats under each arm so Sebastian could enter.
The house was open concept in design. The kitchen separated from the living room by a tall island surrounded by metal stools. Three cream leather couches surrounded a varnished oak coffee table on top of a finely woven Arabic rug. Jutting off to the side was a hallway that presumably led to the bedrooms and bathrooms.
“It’s… nice,” Elena said, dropping the cats to the ground. The home didn’t feel like a space Chloe would have decorated. It was too cold. Sterile.
“I know. It doesn’t feel like her,” Sebastian said. His pocket vibrated, and he pulled out his phone, then grimaced. “Sorry, I have to take this.” He clicked the accept button and held the phone to his head. “Hello?” He opened a door that led down into the basement and descended. “Slow down. I can’t understand you.” He closed the door behind him, and his voice faded.
When he didn’t return after a few minutes, Elena explored the house. The kitchen was modern with white cabinets, white appliances, and white tile. The abundance of white reminded her of a hospital.
The larger of the cats, an orange and white striped tom, thumped to his side and stared at her over the mound of his stomach. The other, a gray domestic medium hair, stepped onto a discarded paper bag and watched her with piercing green eyes.
A photo on the fridge supplied a clue to their names. In the picture, Chloe held a gray cat against a starry background. It looked like something a student would get for a graduation photo. She stifled a snicker. The cat looked less than pleased. She flipped the picture over. The words Chloe and Silky, 2013 were printed on the back in red ink. She glanced at the orange ball of fluff on the kitchen floor. “Who are you then?”
The cat’s gaze provided no answers. She ruffled his head. “I’ll call you Tiger.”
Then she turned to the gray cat and touched the paper bag with her toe. “That would make you Silky.”
Silky swatted at her toe.
Food before cuddles. Got it.
She opened the cabinets until she found a section devoted to the cats. A pricking on her thigh had her looking down to see Silky reaching up her leg, claws extended.
“Play nice. I’m a visitor.” She shook the cat loose. Silky settled onto her paws, watching her through lidded eyes.
She took a can of cat food at random from the cabinet and pulled the tab. A pungent smell filled the room. She retched, but the cats perked up, meowing at her. She fetched a bowl and tapped the can until it expelled the mass with a wet, slapping sound. Then she emptied a second can into another bowl. Silky jumped onto the counter and pawed at the food. Tiger meowed from the floor, and she petted his head. When the second bowl hit the floor, he turned up his nose and strutted away.
Typical.
With the cats sorted, she walked out of the kitchen and scanned the photos on the wall.
Chloe and Elena standing side by side, grinning with mouths full of metal on the day they’d both gotten braces. Chloe showing off the red dress she’d worn to their first middle school dance, the hem uneven from where she’d tried to raise it herself. Years flew by as Chloe grew from awkward teen to elegant young woman. In the later pictures, she looked like a model with her vibrant green eyes, light brown skin, and long, wavy hair.
Thump.
The door at the end of the hall was closed, but light flickered beneath. A shadow passed. She slapped a hand over her mouth and considered retreating, calling Sebastian or the police.
But what if it’s the killer here to remove evidence?
If so, she owed it to Chloe to stop him. She padded closer, then touched her fingertips against the door and pushed until the gap was large enough to see through. Inside, a tall figure dressed in black yanked clothes from a dresser onto the floor. He muttered to himself, although she couldn’t catch the words.
Looking for Chloe’s hard drive?
Then the man turned and walked toward the door. A ski mask obscured most of his features, but he wore a short-sleeved shirt, and there was a shade on his arm. It was a gigantic wolf spider. She shuddered.
Why must it always be spiders?
The man hurried toward her. She cursed and stepped through the nearest doorway, then closed the door as softly as she could.
The walls of the closet loomed around her.
“No, no, no,” she whispered, a band tightening around her chest. Fifteen years of therapy hadn’t cured the claustrophobia she’d struggled with since that night.
With shaking hands, she retrieved her phone from her pocket, then remembered she’d turned it off to save power. If she turned it on again, the man outside would hear the noise. She’d left it on full volume.
She closed her eyes and ignored the pounding in her ears. The walls pulsed, threatening to squeeze her into submission. Her arm hit a pile of boxes, and they tumbled over.
More shuffling, drawers opening and closing. She forced herself to remain still. Then prickling started in her fingers and rushed up her arms.
Please, not now!
She fought back, holding her breath against the pressure in her mind. But her fear was a chink in her armor, and she was unceremoniously tossed from her body. She reached toward the consciousness sharing her body, but it shied away from her. A second later, cold tendrils drew her into one of her own memories.
She kicked off her sneakers and tossed her school backpack to the floor.
“I’m home!” she called, reaching back with a foot to catch the closing door.
She missed. It slammed shut behind her, and she cringed. “Sorry,” she yelled. “I tried to catch it!”
Silence filled the house once again, making her nervous. Why was her mother not yelling at her for letting the door slam?
She shoved a handful of nuts from the bowl on the front landing into her mouth. The house was quiet, unusual for a weekday.
There was a murmuring from somewhere in the house, the words indecipherable.
“Mom?” she whispered. Fear was a live thing inside her, wrapping around her insides and squeezing.
Her mouth dried, and the nuts solidified to a bitter mass. She swallowed, bitterness filling her mouth. Her ears strained to decipher words from the murmuring noise.
She tiptoed up the stairs and peeked around the corner into the hallway. Her mother stood in her bedroom, talking to someone she couldn’t see.
“Mom?”
Her mother raised her arm. Clasped in her hand was a knife.
Elena staggered closer. Edward kneeled on the floor, holding up his arms, tears running down his face.
“Mom, what’re you doing?” she asked before she could stop herself.
Her mother’s head jerked around like a clockwork toy. Her face was twisted, her lips curled in a snarl, and her eyes were completely black.
“Filthy child,” she rasped, her voice low and distorted. “Get out of here, or I’ll take care of you next!”
Elena slipped into the hall closet, pressed her hands over her ears, and screamed until her throat was raw.
The memory faded away, leaving Elena to watch the shade operating her body. It pawed her pockets, found her phone, and then held the power button.
Shit, not that! He’ll hear!
As if understanding the danger, the shade balled up the phone in her shirt, rolling the fabric until it was cocooned, then crouched over to muffle the sound. The vibration tickled her stomach, then the shade unrolled the phone, unlocked it—why hadn’t she turned off that security setting?—and opened a note-taking app. With rapid strokes, using the slide-to-type feature that Elena had never mastered, the shade wrote four words in all capital letters.
FIND RESEARCH STOP HIM
Then the pressure the shade exerted on Elena’s mind dissipated, and the resulting vacuum sucked her back into her body. This time, she was prepared for the disorientation. She waited until the house was quiet, then turned the door handle.
In the next instant, three things happened at once.
First, a strong arm wrapped around her neck. Second, her phone dropped from her numb fingers. Third, she opened her mouth to scream.
A damp rag pressed over her mouth. She struggled, kicking and trying to bite the hand behind the rag. Cold liquid stung her nostrils, and she fought a sudden dizziness.
The rag moved away, and she took a breath to scream again, when the man shoved a handful of small, chalky items into her mouth. A hand clamped over her lips to keep her from spitting them out.
Fear heightened her strength, and she stamped her feet, trying to break his toes. The pills crushed against her teeth. The man wrenched her neck upward. She twisted her tongue away from the pills.
She gagged. Caught between two unpleasant choices, swallow or choke, her body made the choice for her, and she swallowed. She forced her limbs to relax, hoping he would think she had fainted. If he left, she could force herself to vomit.
Let go, damn it!
The man shifted his grip but did not move. Her mind swirled with fear until the world faded into shades of gray. She clung to consciousness, but it was a losing battle. With a final jerk of her limbs, she surrendered to darkness and slumped to the floor.