DEADWOOD'S HOTEL MYSTERY (DEADWOOD REVIVED (MARCUS LYNETTE MYSTERY EXPLORATION) Book 1) by Peyton Dinwiddie

DEADWOOD'S HOTEL MYSTERY (DEADWOOD REVIVED (MARCUS LYNETTE MYSTERY EXPLORATION) Book 1) by Peyton Dinwiddie

Author:Peyton Dinwiddie [Dinwiddie, Peyton]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-02-14T16:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER FOUR

The drive to Sioux Falls felt longer than usual. It was not because Deadwood and Sioux Falls stood at adjacent ends of South Dakota. It was, however, because of what waited for Marcus at Sioux Falls: his mother. But even that was probably the least of his concerns—it was the memories that haunted him as far as Deadwood, and now he was running toward their embrace. As he drove through the shadows of vegetation growing high on both sides of the road, breezing along that lonely road, a million thoughts raced through his mind, not the least of which was how his mom was hell-bent on staying put.

Marcus finally reached home. “I love the house, Marcus, you know that,” she'd said when he'd suggested relocating.

"I'd think it weird, given how many horrible memories the place holds for the family," Marcus had replied.

“And the good ones? We just throw them out, too?”

There was no winning with her on the subject; he did not know why he even bothered trying.

Marcus pulled over in the driveway and made his way quickly to the porch. The setting was more serene than he had remembered it. It was kempt, and there were wild roses and many other flowers on both sides of the porch.

The door was open, so he simply walked in. He stood at the entrance as if waiting to see a ghost. What he had expected to happen did: the memories darted straight to his fear-addled mind. There was just one thing he had ever found himself to be afraid of, and that was the stare in his father's eyes when he gave up the ghost.

Nothing was different, even after those years—not the ambiance, the sofa, or the furniture. Almost twenty years had passed, and nothing had been tampered with. It was as though he was standing there in that living room in his boy shorts again. There had been a heated argument that Sunday afternoon. His mother had made lunch—chicken soup and mashed potatoes. His father had, however, been very cranky. He could not remember what the argument had been about, but he remembered it as being as trivial as it had always been. That afternoon had been the first time he had heard his mother say, "Oh, dear Lord! Somebody help me because I'm going to kill that man." She said it at least ten times or something close to it that afternoon alone, between the rancor that ensued.

When it was finally time for lunch, his mother had ordered them to remain in their rooms. “Don’t come out till you hear me say so,” she'd said.

“But Mom—”

“No buts, Marcus. You're going to do as Mommy says.”

Marcus practically heard his heart leap and thump in his throat. He'd known something was about to go down that afternoon, but he had no idea how serious it would be, and they did as she had instructed. No one had seen it, but they'd heard loud gagging from the living room about twenty minutes later.



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