Their Frozen Graves: A completely addictive crime thriller and mystery novel by Choudhary Ruhi

Author:Choudhary, Ruhi
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781800192461
Publisher: Bookouture
Published: 2021-01-06T16:00:00+00:00

Thirty-Four

Riverview was what Lakemore would be if it were not for football. Both towns tucked next to Olympia were on the poorer side and rainy. But Riverview had nothing to unite the people. It reminded Mackenzie of a giant halfway house; a patch of land where delinquents crashed together and had no sense of community or attachment.

Nick killed the engine in yet another dingy neighborhood. Riverview was a string of bad neighborhoods and this one was where Justin had tracked Bella Fox’s address. Her real name was Isabella Fabio.

When Mackenzie climbed out of the car, her nostrils were assaulted with the smell of piss. Potholes led the way to a dilapidated-looking apartment building. Dumpsters filled to the brim sat outside, infusing the air with a foul smell. A group of cats scurried around them, digging for food.

“You promised me twenty dollars!” a woman screamed from the balcony above at a man walking out of the building.

He was buckling his belt and zipping up his pants when he turned around and shouted back at her. “That handy wasn’t worth it!”

“Screw you!” She picked up a flowerpot and aimed it at him. It crashed inches away from his head.

He seethed. “You’re crazy!”

The woman went back inside. The man almost bumped into Mackenzie and Nick. His teeth were blackened and chipped. Meth use.

“So this is where Bella lived?”

Unsurprisingly enough, the elevators weren’t working. It was a nine-floor climb. The stairs were covered in stains. They walked past doors with a lot of curses being thrown around behind them. Mackenzie only hoped that no child lived in this building.

“That’s the apartment,” Nick confirmed on his phone and knocked.

The same woman yelling from the balcony opened the door in a quick motion. Mascara was smeared around her eyes—an obvious sign she had been crying. Her strawberry-blonde hair was disheveled and pinned in a giant bun on the top of her head. There were holes in her ratty T-shirt. Her bare legs showed signs of drug use. Needle marks and dark veins.

“Who the hell are you?”

Mackenzie showed her badge, and the woman almost stumbled back. She pressed a hand to her forehead. “Can you give me a minute?”

“Sure,” she nodded.

The door closed, and sounds of footsteps pounding and things falling trickled through.

“Hiding drugs?” Nick asked.

“Yep.”

The door opened again. “Come in.”

The apartment was surprisingly airy and light. The balcony door was open, allowing a breeze to filter inside. The furniture was tattered, obviously picked up from yard sales or the street. Magazines and makeup products were spread on a table. There was a tiny kitchen in one corner without any utensils, only paper cups and takeout boxes. There was no personal touch to the apartment. No pictures. No paintings.

“Why are you here?” She curled up on an armchair and covered her body with a blanket.

“What’s your name?” Nick asked.

“Jasmine,” she said dryly.

“You live with Isabella Fabio, right?”

“Bella, you mean. I used to. She moved out in the summer. Without warning,” she added spitefully. “Took me over a month to find another roommate.

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