Secrets Gnaw at the Flesh by C.J. Weiss

Author:C.J. Weiss
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: C.J. Weiss
Published: 2023-10-24T05:00:00+00:00

23. Intermediary

Gar­rett was a use­less spec­ta­tor, rub­ber­neck­ing at the scene of a tragedy. How­ever much he panned his in­ac­tion, he couldn’t will him­self to move. Marie brushed by him, beel­in­ing for her griev­ing cousin.

Der­rick swayed over the life­less body of his wife. Cry­ing in silent com­mu­nion with her, he held her hand be­tween both of his, un­con­cerned and un­aware of his wounds. Blood trick­led down the un­der­sides of his feet, join­ing the pool on the floor.

Marie came to a halt be­hind him. “God, Nia, no!” She re­coiled, rais­ing her arm to block the scene. Slowly, she let her arm fall. Her head jerked away only for her gaze to wan­der back. Tears now fell as freely from her as from her cousin. She locked onto the life­less body and brought a shak­ing hand to her lips. “Derk, I . . .I’m so sorry.”

Mr. Re­nault hus­tled in be­hind his daugh­ter. He ab­sorbed the scene like a de­tec­tive rather than a fam­ily mem­ber.

Be­cause he doesn’t care. This is his be­trayal in the mak­ing. Gar­rett cursed him­self anew once Mr. Re­nault acted. The fam­ily pa­tri­arch coaxed the de­spon­dent boys into tak­ing his hand and fol­low­ing him from the room. If this was be­trayal, what de­scribed Gar­rett’s idle­ness?

Marie hes­i­tantly reached for Der­rick, her hand fall­ing at last on his shoul­der. He ig­nored it, as he did the blood on the floor and his son’s sob­bing.

Un­til with a sud­den twist of his torso, he snapped, “Get away. I can’t have you here.”

She reeled back but stood her ground.

“Get out!” Veins bulged from Der­rick’s fore­head and neck.

Grady’s wails mag­ni­fied from the hall­way.

De­fen­sive hands raised, Marie backpedaled. “I’m sorry.” She turned away, her eyes meet­ing Gar­rett’s. She stag­gered out of the room and mouthed, Watch him, be­fore join­ing her fa­ther and the boys.

Der­rick’s face soft­ened. Harsh lines soft­ened into sad droops. Had lin­ger­ing spir­its latched onto his frag­ile state?

Stop sus­pect­ing ev­ery­one and find a way to help. Gar­rett’s van­tage point near the room’s bed let him watch Der­rick while peek­ing into the hall. Mr. Re­nault crouched be­fore Tommy and Grady. The chil­dren sat against the wall, knees pulled to­ward their chests. Marie popped into and out of sight as she al­ter­nated com­fort­ing the chil­dren with pac­ing away from them. It was the most af­fec­tion he’d seen her show them, which stirred the de­sire for kids at yet an­other in­op­por­tune time.

Be use­ful!

Gar­rett straight­ened his back, fo­cus­ing on the mur­der scene. The win­dow shade gusted with the wind, its edges frayed all around but es­pe­cially at head height. If not for Nia’s blood-soaked blouse and the drenched shirt around her neck, one could have mis­taken her for sleep­ing. At rest, her dom­i­neer­ing de­meanor faded, and she re­sem­bled his wife more than ever. If this was Marie . . . He cov­ered the left side of his face, leav­ing only Der­rick in view and cut­ting off the thought.

“Is there any­thing I can do?” He sounded pan­icked. He re­al­ized they were his first words since the win­dow broke.

“Ban­dages,” Der­rick choked. His face was a wet mess.

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