Ultimate Sacrifice by S. E. Green

Author:S. E. Green [Green, S. E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Oftomes Publishing
Published: 2017-10-08T16:00:00+00:00

BY LATE MORNING dad has gone to bid on a possible new job, and I’m in the garage cleaning. With his recent lull in business I figured it’s the perfect opportunity to organize his cluttered work area. Plus, it’ll give me something to do so I don’t sit around thinking, and he’ll be surprised when he gets home. He’ll smile. He’ll be happy.

I feel like it’s been forever since any of us has smiled.

It takes me over an hour just to do the right side of the garage, taking things off their shelves, wiping down, restacking. Then I go to the left, clearing out his tools, separating them into groups, and filling his many toolboxes. There’s a few items high up, and I grab his step ladder to reach. I slide a box over and something tucked behind catches my attention. Coming up on my tip-toes, I stretch and reach and pull the item free. It’s a bag full of twine, like the kind PaPaw uses over on his goat farm.

Like the kind that was used to bind both the goat’s hooves and Michelle’s wrists and ankles.

I hear a car rolling up the driveway, its tires crunching over the gravel, and I scramble down from the ladder. Dad’s truck slows and parks, and right behind him is another car that I realize—with a shot of panic—belongs to Detective Crandall.

“Vickie?” Dad says in confusion, climbing from his truck.

Yanking the bag of twine behind my back—and at the same time not sure why I am—I tuck it down inside my shorts and cover it with my T-shirt.

Dad takes a hesitant step toward me, his eyes tracking over the inside of the garage and everything that I did. I watch as his gaze lingers on the positioning of the ladder and trails up to the top shelf where I just was. Where I found the twine.

Crandall steps up beside him and takes everything in as well.

“I-I was just doing some cleaning,” I tell them both.

Dad’s eyes come back down from the shelf to land on mine. I try to read what he’s thinking, but I can’t figure it out.

“Detective Crandall has asked if he can search the garage again,” Dad tells me.

“Oh.” I take a step to the side, careful to keep my back from their view. “I’ll just leave you two alone,” and I keep right on side stepping until I’m outside.

On instinct, I turn toward the woods to go to PaPaw’s, and then I stop. No, I don’t want to go back in there. And I don’t want to go to the house either, so I head to the pond instead. The drop cloth, Michelle’s clothes, the murder weapon . . . everything is still missing. If the cops can find those things, they’ll find the killer. I glance back to the garage.

Dad seemed alarmed I was cleaning.

Of course he was alarmed. Crandall follows him home to search the garage only to find me in there cleaning it out. I would’ve been freaked, too.

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