Don't Say A Word by Sabre Rose

Author:Sabre Rose [Rose, Sabre]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-11-14T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

RYKER

I pull up outside Mia’s house and stare at the curtains covering the windows even though it’s two o’clock in the afternoon. I had to escape. I couldn’t watch her on the monitor, trying to wash my touch from her body. I couldn’t stand Marcel’s incessant chatter.

Senior had told me to keep an eye on how her family reacted to her disappearance so he won’t be surprised when he checks the GSP on the car. Already the local newspaper had leaped on the story, relishing the mystery of her disappearance. Senior knew the disappearance of a local girl from a small town would create far more attention than he wanted, but Junior always got want he wanted, and in this case, he wanted Mia. Besides, they had people they could influence. The police aren’t beyond their control.

I sit for an hour, maybe two, waiting for the curtains to be drawn, for someone to arrive or to leave, but the house is dead. There is only one room with the curtains open. It must be Mia’s. I try to think of her sitting on the other side of the glass, staring out at the quiet street. But the vision of her huddled in the corner keeps interrupting my thoughts.

After coming to the conclusion that no one is home, I get out of the car and make my way over to the house, constantly checking to make sure no one is looking. I try the door but it is locked, so I walk around to that one window that isn’t covered. Her room is warm and colored with innocence, belying her age. Her bed is messy and clothing is scattered across the floor. Posters cover the walls, but I can’t read what they say due to the dirtiness of the windows.

“What are you doing?

I don’t move when I hear the voice. I force a relaxed smile and turn to look at her. It’s Mia’s friend. The one with the pixie-style haircut. She’s dressed in green.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude. Is this your house?”

She doesn’t return my smile. “No. But I know it’s not yours.”

I take a step closer, squinting from the brightness of the sun behind her. “Do you know if Mia Cooper lived here?”

Her eyes narrow. “Who are you?”

I run my hands down my jeans as though I’m nervous and then hold one out to her. She doesn’t take it. “I’m a reporter with—”

“You can stop right there.” She starts to walk toward the front door. “Fuck off. This is private property.”

I need to keep up the façade, so I follow. “Did you know her? Was she—”

“What part of ‘fuck off’ did you not understand? Was it the ‘fuck’ or the ‘off’?”

I hold up my hands. “Whoa there, young lady, I’m just trying to do my job.”

“Fuck. Off.” She steps toward me, repeating the words like a broken record. “Fuck. Off. Fuck. Off.”

Clearly she does not share Mia’s innocence. Her eyes are daggers. Her hands are clenched fists at her sides.

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