Emotions chased each other across her mother’s face. Surprise, expectation, hope, sadness, and finally fear. “How dare you,” she breathed.
“She’s scared,” Kylee whispered. “She knows I’ve been haunting them.”
“You know she’s here,” Price said, stealing Kylee’s words. “You know I’m not making this up.”
“Get out of my house!” Theresa screamed. She threw the door open wide and pointed down the hall, her hand shaking. “Get out now!”
“I never met your daughter,” Price said, getting to his feet. Kylee stood with him. “She came to me after we moved in. She needs help. I’m trying to help her.”
From some deep pocket of her sweatpants, her mother pulled out the cordless phone. Of course, Kylee thought. Who checks out a strange noise in their dead daughter’s room without the phone?
“I’m calling the police,” Theresa said.
“Better listen, Price,” Kylee said. “We have the cops on speed dial. I’ll get the phone from her, and you run home as fast as you can. Meet me out back in about ten minutes.”
“You got it,” Price said. He turned around and tossed himself out the window. Kylee knocked the phone from her mother’s hand and sent it across the room.
Theresa uttered a choked cry. Her eyes darted around, and Kylee knew she was looking for her.
“Mom,” Kylee whispered.
Theresa ran past her, pressing her hands on the windowsill. “Wait!”
Kylee stood beside her mother and looked out at Price’s retreating figure. He opened the front door and hurried inside.
Theresa crumpled to the floor and began to sob. Kylee crouched next to her, wishing she could talk with her.
“What part do you play in this, Mom?” she said. “Are you covering for Bill? So afraid of being alone you’ll help him get away with murder?” She hated the thought that her mother was in on it. “Or do you not know? Do you really think I’m missing?”
She doubted her mother believed that. She might choose to let herself believe it rather than accept that the man she’d married, the man she’d brought into her daughter’s life, had murdered her. Kylee sighed and got to her feet.
There were no answers here. Clues that led to more questions. But no answers.
Kylee didn’t bother closing the doors behind her as she fled the house. The overgrown pathway beneath her feet added more to the mounting pile of evidence of her death. No one came this way anymore. The forest and yard were rapidly reclaiming her secluded spot.
She pulled up short as she thought of something. Why had she never realized it before? The trail to her tree was so bare she could walk it in the dark, never worrying about stumbling over rocks or losing her way. Which meant anyone looking would’ve seen an obvious path leading into the trees. She pressed a hand to the hollow of her throat and swallowed several times to ease the ache there. No wonder Bill had known where to go. He’d probably known about her hideout for months. Maybe years.
She closed her eyes and the tears seeped out. Too late now. So many things she wished she could undo, and she couldn’t.
Her nerves got stronger the closer she got. It no longer meant the place of peace and security it always had. An aura of fear and suspense shrouded the hushed wildlife.
“Get this over with,” she whispered. She pushed into the forest.
The overhanging trees blocked the sunlight from reaching the decaying trunk. Kylee sat next to it and ran her hand over the rough bark. Anger and hurt prickled her skin, as if the tree itself had betrayed her by letting her die here. She lay down in the dirt and stared into the hollowed-out log.
Where was the bloody square of carpet? Bill would’ve hidden it. They had no fireplace to burn it, but he could burn it outside. The summer burn ban never stopped anyone. If that was the case, it was long gone.
An image flashed through her mind, a memory of Bill crouching over her, knife glinting as he held it high above his head. Light reflected off the metal tip, though the handle was a stiff, black plastic.
Kylee knew the knife well. It had been under her pillow, after all, and she had used it several times on herself. So where was it now? If she found the knife and the carpet, she could prove he’d killed her. They would have his prints on them.
She reached into the dirt under the trunk and felt around for the paring knife. Missing. Who had it? Perhaps Bill had grabbed it after he left her body there. Or maybe the police had it, thinking it was the murder weapon.
A branch snapped, and Kylee straightened up. “Price,” she said, exhaling in relief when she saw him.
“Oh, hey,” he said, back stepping over to her. “I didn’t see you there. Are you okay?”
She knelt beside the tree again. “This is where he put me.”
“Who?”
Hadn’t he listened to anything she said? “Bill. After he killed me.”
“So why weren’t you here when the police came?”
Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.
“I have no idea.” She let out a slow exhale. “He must’ve moved my body. Do we know the time-frame of events?”
Price shook his head. “I know it took a couple of days before they reported you missing. They said they were waiting for you to come home or something. Not sure.” He poked a finger at the tree. “Did you find anything? Remember anything?”
“No.” Frustration seeped into her veins, and she grunted. “It would be helpful if something would come to me.”
“Maybe you can make it happen.”
She rolled her eyes. “If I could, don’t you think I would have already?”
He hesitated, still pulling dead bark from the underside of the log. “What if we repeated the events that led to you remembering last time?”
She cocked her head, squinting. “What events were those? Oh.” She laughed as she remembered their physical activity that brought on the previous vision. “Is this a ploy to get me to make out with you again?”
He touched her waist. “Is it working?”
She gave in. “It couldn’t hurt to try.”
“Exactly.” He pulled her closer, his mouth hovering over hers. He kissed her, very slowly, demanding nothing. She felt the life he gave her, the strength as it seeped into her.
She reached a hand behind his neck, ushering him down to the forest floor. All of nature breathed with her when she exhaled, gasped when she did. The trees brightened to almost a florescent green, the chirping crickets loud enough to deafen her.
She closed her eyes, and everything darkened. She still saw the swaying trees above her, but now they were silhouetted by a quarter moon.
She cast her gaze downward and saw herself. Her body floated face-down in the shallow reeds of the neighbor’s pond, trapped by the plants surrounding it. Her shirt was ripped, and little fishes darted in and out of her blond hair. But it was her.
She opened her eyes and found herself staring into Price’s face. “Price,” she whispered. She threw her arms around his neck and began to cry.
“What is it? Did you remember?”
“I saw my body,” she choked out between sobs. “I know where it is.”
His arms tightened around her. “That’s good,” he whispered in her ear. “That’s what we wanted to happen.”
So why did she feel so broken? Kylee sobbed into his shirt, feeling as though her entire soul had split in two.
YYY
“I want to go find your body.”
Kylee shook her head. They sat cross-legged on the floor in Price’s room, knees almost touching. She shivered, unable to get warm despite the blanket around her shoulders and legs. “No way.”
“You don’t have to come,” he said. “I know that must have been awful for you. But I need to be able to tell the police where it is. I have to see it.”
“No.” She kept shaking her head. “I don’t want you to see it, Price.”
“I have to be convincing,” he pressed. “They’re going to ask me questions. What was I doing there? What did I see? If I don’t get it right, Kylee, they’ll know.”
“I’ll tell you everything you need to know. I’ll be right there with you when you report the body.”
“Listen—”
“No, you listen,” she interrupted. Her finger flashed hot under the blanket, and she knew it was her mental energy igniting the ring. She pulled her hands out and cupped his face. “Remember me this way,” she whispered. “Please.”
His gaze softened. “Okay,” he answered.
On impulse, she leaned forward and kissed him. “Thank you.”
He pressed his forehead against hers and let out a ragged breath. “Anything for you.”
The puckering, grunting sound of a muffler broke the silence.
“Bill’s home,” she said, leaning back.
“Do you think your mom will say anything?”
She didn’t think so. But just in case . . . “Better lock your door.”
“Be right back.”
Kylee moved to the window, watching her house. No one came exploding out of it. She turned around when Price came back in.
“We should be safe,” he said. He sat down at his desk. “What happens after we tell the police?”
She shrugged. “Maybe they’ll be able to prove my murder.”
“And then?”
“He goes to jail.”
Price didn't reply. She waited. She wouldn’t push him on this. She needed him, but she didn’t want him to feel forced.
He pushed back on his knees and lifted his head. “Okay. I’m ready.” Turning around, he toggled his computer mouse, then pressed a number into his cell phone.
“Are you calling them?”
Price lifted a finger to silence her. “Hi, yeah, I need to talk to someone on the Kylee Mansfield case. I have—a tip.”
Kylee moved closer, but she only heard silence. And then a male voice said, “This is Sergeant Holmes. How can I help you?”
“I-I found a body. I think it’s Kylee’s.”
“What’s your name, son?”
“Lie,” Kylee mouthed.
He shook his head. “Price Hudson. I live next to her house.”
“Tell me what you found and where.”
“In the reeds,” Kylee said. “In the pond behind the Littles’ house.”
Price echoed her words.
“And what were you doing back there?”
“Just exploring. I wanted to see what was there.”
“Do the Littles know you were on their land?”
“Um, no, we don’t know each other. I just know of them.”
“Where are you now?”
Price glanced at Kylee. “At home. I stayed home from church today.”
“Don’t go anywhere. The police will be there in a moment.”
image [https://cdn-gcs.inkitt.com/story_images/big_71d3cd822add88aac361187cfa23b5c1.jpeg]