going over
and waiting for someone else to deal with whatever mischief Marcus had wrought
in her house, but she couldn’t do it. “No. I’m coming in with you.”
“Doc.”
“It’s my house, my problem.”
“Dale.” Steve turned to the other man. “Tell her to wait
outside.”
“Can’t. Technically this isn’t an official call, otherwise I
would.” Dale looked at Gordie. “But if I tell you to move you move, got it?”
She nodded. Gordie might be brave enough to go in with them,
but she wasn’t about to question the authority of a sheriff who’d spent years
on the mean streets of a big city.
“Right, let’s go then.” Dale walked to the door, key out.
“Both of you stay behind me.”
Steve shoved her behind him as they entered the house. The
stench hit her full in the face like a brick wall. It was worse than a litter
box. Gordie pinched her nose and breathed through her mouth until she got in
the rhythm of breathing through her mouth only. Puddles of yellow fluid lined
the walls and floor in the foyer and explained where the smell came from.
“Fuck.” Steve pulled her behind him into the living room. “I
take it you didn’t leave the place like that yesterday morning?”
“You take it right.” Gordie quickly scanned the room.
“There’s none in here.”
“No, it appears to just be in the entrance.” Dale strode
toward the dining area.
Gordie held tight to Steve’s hand as they followed the
sheriff through her house. There was another “marking of territory” section at
her back door but nothing else on the lower level appeared to have been
touched. At the stairs she took a deep breath through her mouth and tried to
calm the nerves jumping around inside her. She knew whatever they found
upstairs would be above and beyond the downstairs damage.
Kat’s childhood bedroom was trashed. The furniture had been
overturned and the bedding ripped from the bed. Gordie wanted to cry at the
sight of her sister’s prized collection of porcelain dolls—the clothes were in
tatters and their pretty, painted faces smashed to smithereens.
“Jesus.” Steve tugged on her hand. “Don’t touch anything.
Dale might be able to get fingerprints.”
“I’ll want photos too before you move anything, Gordie,”
Dale said.
She nodded and spun on her heel to leave the room but
stopped when she saw the wall behind her. Gordie’s chest ached when all the air
was sucked from her lungs. Painted on the wall, in crude preschool skill, was a
coyote, his eyes glowed un-naturally yellow, saliva dripped from its jaws and
clamped between wicked-looking teeth was a cat. It didn’t take a genius to work
out what the message was.
“Get her off the street.” Gordie took off at a run, a scream
tearing from her throat. “ Kat! ”
“Gordie, wait.”
She could hear Steve’s boots hitting the hardwood flooring
as he raced after her, but she couldn’t stop. Had to reach Kat before anything
happened. Her feet slid in the borrowed boots and she stumbled on the
staircase. A hand gripped her forearm, fingers dug into her soft flesh and sent
shards of pain slicing through her elbow and wrist. Gordie felt herself spin
midair, her footing gone from underneath her completely but instead of landing
on hard, wooden treads she slammed into the hot, hard wall of Steve’s chest.
He held her close and they went down together. His body
cushioned their fall and air expelled from his lungs as his back hit the stairs
with a thud. Steve groaned in pain and Gordie had visions of snapping vertebrae
before her breasts crushed against his ribs, sucking all breath from her. The
front door burst open beneath them. Footfalls pounded the stairs above and
below them, but she couldn’t get past the look of agony on Steve’s face.
Stars danced in her vision and pain lanced her chest. Gordie
tried to suck in air, tried to move her arms and legs to get off him but
nothing wanted to work properly. Her ears filled with a strange humming
and waiting for someone else to deal with whatever mischief Marcus had wrought
in her house, but she couldn’t do it. “No. I’m coming in with you.”
“Doc.”
“It’s my house, my problem.”
“Dale.” Steve turned to the other man. “Tell her to wait
outside.”
“Can’t. Technically this isn’t an official call, otherwise I
would.” Dale looked at Gordie. “But if I tell you to move you move, got it?”
She nodded. Gordie might be brave enough to go in with them,
but she wasn’t about to question the authority of a sheriff who’d spent years
on the mean streets of a big city.
“Right, let’s go then.” Dale walked to the door, key out.
“Both of you stay behind me.”
Steve shoved her behind him as they entered the house. The
stench hit her full in the face like a brick wall. It was worse than a litter
box. Gordie pinched her nose and breathed through her mouth until she got in
the rhythm of breathing through her mouth only. Puddles of yellow fluid lined
the walls and floor in the foyer and explained where the smell came from.
“Fuck.” Steve pulled her behind him into the living room. “I
take it you didn’t leave the place like that yesterday morning?”
“You take it right.” Gordie quickly scanned the room.
“There’s none in here.”
“No, it appears to just be in the entrance.” Dale strode
toward the dining area.
Gordie held tight to Steve’s hand as they followed the
sheriff through her house. There was another “marking of territory” section at
her back door but nothing else on the lower level appeared to have been
touched. At the stairs she took a deep breath through her mouth and tried to
calm the nerves jumping around inside her. She knew whatever they found
upstairs would be above and beyond the downstairs damage.
Kat’s childhood bedroom was trashed. The furniture had been
overturned and the bedding ripped from the bed. Gordie wanted to cry at the
sight of her sister’s prized collection of porcelain dolls—the clothes were in
tatters and their pretty, painted faces smashed to smithereens.
“Jesus.” Steve tugged on her hand. “Don’t touch anything.
Dale might be able to get fingerprints.”
“I’ll want photos too before you move anything, Gordie,”
Dale said.
She nodded and spun on her heel to leave the room but
stopped when she saw the wall behind her. Gordie’s chest ached when all the air
was sucked from her lungs. Painted on the wall, in crude preschool skill, was a
coyote, his eyes glowed un-naturally yellow, saliva dripped from its jaws and
clamped between wicked-looking teeth was a cat. It didn’t take a genius to work
out what the message was.
“Get her off the street.” Gordie took off at a run, a scream
tearing from her throat. “ Kat! ”
“Gordie, wait.”
She could hear Steve’s boots hitting the hardwood flooring
as he raced after her, but she couldn’t stop. Had to reach Kat before anything
happened. Her feet slid in the borrowed boots and she stumbled on the
staircase. A hand gripped her forearm, fingers dug into her soft flesh and sent
shards of pain slicing through her elbow and wrist. Gordie felt herself spin
midair, her footing gone from underneath her completely but instead of landing
on hard, wooden treads she slammed into the hot, hard wall of Steve’s chest.
He held her close and they went down together. His body
cushioned their fall and air expelled from his lungs as his back hit the stairs
with a thud. Steve groaned in pain and Gordie had visions of snapping vertebrae
before her breasts crushed against his ribs, sucking all breath from her. The
front door burst open beneath them. Footfalls pounded the stairs above and
below them, but she couldn’t get past the look of agony on Steve’s face.
Stars danced in her vision and pain lanced her chest. Gordie
tried to suck in air, tried to move her arms and legs to get off him but
nothing wanted to work properly. Her ears filled with a strange humming
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