The Bone Winter: a serial killer thriller (Wren Delacroix Book 4) by V. J. Chambers

Author:V. J. Chambers [Chambers, V. J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Punk Rawk Books
Published: 2019-11-09T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

Jimmy Nielson lived in an isolated old farmhouse, down a twisty road that Wren struggled to navigate in the darkness. Every time they went around a bend, she thought to herself that she needed to find someplace to turn the car around and they needed to go home. She didn’t know what she was doing here at all.

Maybe it was that darkness that was supposedly in her, the kind that Hawk said he saw in her, the kind he said called to the darkness within him. Maybe it was her legacy as her mother’s daughter that pushed her down that driveway.

Or maybe it was guilt. Hawk had told her not to blame herself, but she couldn’t help but feel responsible. Maybe she didn’t cause all this death and suffering, but it was somehow tied to her. She was tangled up in it. Maybe exterminating something evil, maybe that would help.

But she didn’t turn around, because there was nowhere to turn around.

And Reilly was there, on the other side of the car, and his presence was steadying, normalizing, making this all seem less insane than it actually was.

When they arrived at the farmhouse, they parked and peered through the windshield at its gray, chipped siding and its forlorn front porch. The windows were dark, gazing out at the dark fields that surrounded the house. One window glowed yellow, on the bottom floor.

For a long time, Wren didn’t move. She just looked at the house.

And then the door to the farmhouse opened, and a man staggered out. He was carrying a rifle.

Wren felt the laughter bubbling up in her. Of course he had a gun. Of course he did.

She opened the door to the car and got out.

Reilly did too.

They trooped up to the porch.

“Mr. Nielson!” called Reilly, who was holding out his badge. “Detective Caius Reilly, tri-state task force. This is my associate Wren Delacroix.”

“Delacroix?” said Jimmy. “Vivian’s little girl?”

“That’s right,” said Wren, climbing up the steps onto the porch.

“What do you want?” said Jimmy, backing away from her.

Reilly deferred to her. They were here because of her. He was going to let her run the show.

What would he do if she simply whipped out her gun and turned Jimmy’s head into a mess of gore? Would Reilly arrest her for that? Of course, with Jimmy having that rifle, it wasn’t a smart thing to do. They could all end up shot to death if she wasn’t careful.

“We know you killed Eli Brown,” said Wren, taking a chance on saying out loud. When she did, her voice seemed to echo, taking on a deep and rich quality, and she got a funny feeling, like someone was watching her, like she had in the shower after that conversation with Hawk.

“Oh, hell,” said Jimmy, looking at her wide, wild eyes. He was afraid, she realized. He was scared of her.

“Why’d you shoot him?” said Wren. “Because he was gay?”

“No,” said Jimmy. He considered. “Maybe.” He dropped the rifle and it hit the porch with a clatter.

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