Ashes of Guilt by Isabella Steele

Author:Isabella Steele [Steele, Isabella]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Cosmic Phoenix Publishing
Published: 2023-10-03T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

T he house seemed smaller than I last remembered. Dimmer.

Rebecca had moved after I left, and the new family had done quite a lot of renovations. You could see the slight changes that took place over the years: a few new trees, new houses sprung up, there were different street lamps and even the sidewalk was repainted and maybe even rebuilt. A lot could happen in two decades.

It left my old house in a different time period.

When I entered, it was slightly cold, and the hair on the back of my neck stood. I didn’t want to be here, but I had a feeling the receptionist woman at the Clover Inn, who also owned the place, went through my room every time I left it. I couldn’t say for sure, of course, but there was always some little thing out of place. The problem was I couldn’t mentally remember where each and everything was before leaving. So, just to be safe, I brought the case files and everything else I needed here to this house.

Everything was covered in dust. All of the kitchen cabinets were half open, and I was sure a few animals had made their home here somewhere. There wasn’t a single cup or plate anywhere, and only one chair at the kitchen table was on its side on the floor. The rest were neatly tucked in.

Once I stepped into the living room, my shoes kicked up even more dust. The room smelt stale and moldy. I felt a surge of emotion as I recognized some of the cushions that lay on the old sofa. They were Vanessa’s. We would stay up late watching movies and almost always slept on that couch afterward. It then became a habit for her to bring her pillows down because she knew we would fall asleep anyway.

It took me a moment to set up a clean space in the living room, and after laying everything out, I got to work.

The sun was setting by the time I left. Making sure to lock the windows and doors, I didn’t go straight back to the hotel. I stopped at the Golden Eagle before that.

Finding the way was tricky at first because I didn’t stop to ask anyone for directions. I kept a low profile and hoped I wouldn’t run into anyone who knew me. I strolled about until I found the street it was on.

It was nightfall by then, and the place was bustling with people. Luckily for me, that meant I could blend in.

I walked into the bar, scanning the crowd for the owner and—for a few moments—whether anyone here might possibly know me. But this pub was almost on the other side of town, so the crowd was one I thankfully wasn’t familiar with. As for the owner, all I had to go on was a picture on file, but soon enough, I spotted him behind the counter, pouring drinks and chatting with the customers. He was a middle-aged man with a friendly face and a bald head who had moved to Wakefield about eight years ago.

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