Dragonfly Summer by J.H. Moncrieff

Author:J.H. Moncrieff
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: gothic fantasy; flame tree press; speculative fiction; women of horror; ladies of horror; Gillian Flynn; CJ Tudor
Publisher: Flame Tree Publishing
Published: 2022-10-14T11:23:58+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Jo returned to the Clear Springs Hotel feeling shell-shocked. With all her parents’ faults, which she’d long ago accepted, she still couldn’t believe they’d allowed her to be tortured with electric current – not once, but multiple times. How could this have happened?

Doug had offered to treat her to dinner, but she’d declined. If there was ever a night she needed to be alone with a warm bath and some pizza, this was it.

In her frazzled state, Jo forgot to keep her guard up. She was completely unprepared for what awaited her in the room.

It was Monday, the day the Clear Springs Chronicle was delivered. As she pushed the door open, it jammed on her complimentary copy. Her knees popped audibly when she bent to retrieve the paper, and she groaned. It had been far too long since she’d gone on a hike, and her joints were paying the price. Paper in hand, she glanced up.

IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT was emblazoned across the wall in crimson.

And then there was the smell – the suffocating stench of death and decay.

Jo screamed.

* * *

“Would it be okay if I asked you a few questions, miss? Miss?”

Doug squeezed her shoulder so she acknowledged the man kneeling in front of her. She was thankful Doug had been able to come back and be with her. This wasn’t something she wanted to handle alone.

The man who addressed her now was a cop in uniform, but so young he would have made a better Boy Scout, with his rosy cheeks and long lashes. Jo could picture how he must have looked as he’d toddled off for his first day of school, no doubt wearing a striped T-shirt and tiny cargo pants, his lunch clutched in one dimpled fist.

“Miss?”

“Ask your questions. Jo will be fine,” Doug said.

“I have some good news for you. It doesn’t appear to be blood. The best we can tell, it’s paint.”

She’d never forget the ghastly red words violating the peach walls, gory words damning her.

“We’re more concerned about the cat.”

She raised her eyes to meet the officer’s. “What cat?”

“There was a cat in the bed. I assumed you’d seen it.”

“No.” She couldn’t bear it if some innocent animal had been murdered to give her a sick message.

“My guess is, it’s roadkill. It’s a real mess, but it’s in evidence, so you won’t have to deal with it. We’ll ask housekeeping to clean the room when we’re finished.”

“What do you want to know, officer? We’d like to get out of here as soon as possible.”

“Oh, of course. Sorry.” The cop regarded Doug with obvious respect. Jo had never been one to hide behind a man, but she was relieved to let Doug handle things for now. She was finding it difficult to think, let alone speak. “Ms. Carter, does anyone else have a key to your room?”

“No. Except for the hotel staff, I guess.”

“Jo, what’s going on?” Jack rushed toward them, cheeks flushed. “Are you okay? What happened?” All she could do was nod.

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