First Degree Murder by Christy Barritt

Author:Christy Barritt [Barritt, Christy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: River Heights
Published: 2019-03-27T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

The next morning, Cassidy jerked up in bed. Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, pulling her from an engulfing, all-too-realistic dream where she’d been running from a faceless shadow. Her heart raced as the vivid images pummeled her mind.

It had felt so real.

She’d felt so threatened.

So in danger.

“Cassidy, do you need to get that?” Ty turned over in bed and stuffed his pillow beneath his head as his sleepy gaze fell on her.

Her phone, she remembered.

Her personal phone had been buzzing.

She raked a hand through her mane of hair and grabbed her cell. But it was too late.

She’d missed the call. She glanced at the number and saw it said private. She sighed, putting the phone back down.

“Who was it?” Ty asked, draping his arm across her.

“I don’t know. They’ll leave a message if it’s important.”

He pulled her closer to his warm body, and she melted there. During the in-between seasons, it always felt cold in the cottage. Too warm for the heat to come on. Too cool for the AC.

If only she and Ty could stay here all day, just relaxing and enjoying each other’s company.

But all her pressing concerns flooded back to her.

She forced her eyes open again and saw that it was almost eight o’clock.

A groan escaped from her, and she pulled the soft blanket up tighter around her neck. Sunlight streamed in through the blinds, and Kujo lay at her feet.

“What?” Ty murmured into her hair.

“I have to get to work.”

“Call in sick?” He didn’t release his hold on her.

“I wish I could.”

“Why is your heart racing so fast? I can feel it thumping against my chest.”

“Bad dream.”

“Want to tell me about it?”

Cassidy turned over and ran her hand along his face, soaking in his features—his handsome features that she’d be quite content to stare at all day. His scruffy beard, intelligent and sometimes mischievous eyes, his messy brown hair. She still marveled sometimes that she’d found someone like him.

She remembered his question. “There’s nothing to tell. In my dream, a shadow was chasing me, and I . . . I was certain I was going to die.”

Her attempt at a lighthearted tone fell flat.

“That doesn’t sound like nothing.”

Cassidy shrugged. “It seemed real and got my adrenaline going, I suppose.”

Ty kissed her forehead. “Those are the worst. What do you think it means?”

She didn’t have to think about it long.

“What if I can’t figure everything out, Ty?” she whispered. “What if I can’t make things right? What if Gilead is elected and Serena is really converted and . . . I could go on.”

“You’ll figure things out, Cassidy. You always do.”

She wished she was as convinced. “This case has my stomach all twisted in knots.”

“By this case, you mean the dead bodies in the woods?”

“I mean all of it combined and linked. The bodies in the woods, the men who shot at us from the boat . . .”

“Just take a deep breath. It will come together. It always does.”

Cassidy really hoped Ty was right.

Just then, her phone buzzed again.

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