The List (The Carolina Killer Files Book 2)
Page 1
The List
By: Kiersten Modglin
The List
Copyright © 2016 by Kiersten Modglin.
All rights reserved.
First Print Edition: October 2016
Limitless Publishing, LLC
Kailua, HI 96734
www.limitlesspublishing.com
Formatting: Limitless Publishing
ISBN-13: 978-1-68058-864-4
ISBN-10: 1-68058-864-8
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
Dedication
To my mom, Dawn, and my grandmothers, Granny Beth and Nannie Pam, for introducing me to books long before I could read and for always having a good story to tell.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
*BONUS* INSTANT ACCESS TO A SECRET CHAPTER!
GET (5) FREE READS EVERY FRIDAY!
Chapter One
Jordyn
Jordyn Atwood thought it was strange that when she and her husband decided to move to Bates, South Carolina, every realtor she’d called had refused to show them any houses. She thought it was strange that when she’d called to ask about tours at some of the local schools she’d been told they just didn’t have the time. She even thought it was strange that no jobs seemed to be available in the area at all. Jordyn was an optimist by nature, however, and seeing how incredibly low the prices were on the town’s real estate, when Connor was transferred to a town a few miles away, Jordyn decided Bates was to be their new home.
After just a few weeks of online research, the Atwoods found a quaint little house in a subdivision called Providence for what Connor called “a steal”. Jordyn called immediately upon realizing it wasn’t listed with a realtor. The woman who answered the phone sounded young.
“Yes, I’m calling about the house you have for sale. My husband and I are very interested and would like to schedule a time to view it.”
“You would? Really?” came the response.
“I’m sure you’ve had a lot of interest at the price you’re asking, but we’re willing to make an offer today if we like it. It’s really a beautiful house.”
“Okay.” The girl sounded hesitant.
“Do you already have any offers?” Jordyn felt her heart sink a little at the possibility.
“No,” the girl answered softly. “No, we don’t have any other offers.”
“Oh, great! I just knew you would. We’d love to come take a look at it just as soon as is convenient for you. When would that be?”
The girl was quiet for a second. “Who did you say this was again?”
“Oh.” Heat rushed to Jordyn’s cheeks. “I’m so sorry. My name’s Jordyn Atwood.”
“Hang on.”
Jordyn listened as the speaker was covered up and muffled voices sounded in the background. She heard the phone being passed around and a man’s voice came through the line.
“Who is this?”
“My name’s Jordyn Atwood. I saw your ad online for the house you have for sale. My husband and I are looking to move to that area and we’re very interested in your house. I was just telling the young woman I was speaking to that we’d love to come take a look at it whenever is convenient for you.”
The man sighed heavily. “I don’t recall knowing any Atwoods in Bates. Where are you from?”
“We’re actually moving to the area from Atlanta, Georgia. We aren’t all that familiar with the area, but my husband’s firm is transferring him to Charleston next month, and we’ve just fallen in love with your town.”
“Charleston’s a half hour from here. Surely you can find something a little closer,” he insisted.
“Yes, we know,” Jordyn said firmly, starting to grow aggravated. “We don’t mind the drive.”
“Okay.” He sounded exasperated. “Well, listen, why don’t you just have your realtor call me? Maybe we can figure out a time that would work for the both of us, okay?”
“We aren’t going through a realtor, actually. All of the realtors here in Georgia can’t really help us in South Carolina. We’ve called every realtor in South Carolina, but no one is willing to show us houses in Bates. One lady gave us a few different realtors in Bates to call, but they’re all out of business. Maybe you could direct me to one?”
“I don’t know of any.” He sniffed.
“Look, I get it. Small towns, you probably don’t like new people coming in and messing up the flow of things, especially city folk like us. Please, we just really like your house. I swear to you we won’t cause any problems. Our yard will always be mowed, and we don’t have any noisy pets. We’re just quiet. Simple, really. We’ll be good neighbors.”
“Trust me, miss, that’s not the issue here.” He huffed, mumbling something to himself. “Just tell me one thing: do you and your husband have any kids?”
“No,” Jordyn answered. “Nope. Just me and my husband, Connor.”
“All right then,” he agreed begrudgingly. “If you really want to see the house, you can come by sometime this week.”
“Oh, thank you! Would today be okay?” she asked.
“No, tomorrow. Tomorrow’s better for me.”
She smiled. “Tomorrow’s perfect then. You’ll let me know though if someone else puts in an offer first, right?”
“No one’s going to be putting in any offers, honey.”
“Okay, thank you so much. What time should I—” The line went dead before she could ask for any other details. Jordyn heaved a sigh of relief. She couldn’t wait to share the good news with Connor.
***
The next morning, the Atwoods pulled into Bates at half past eleven.
“I hope we aren’t too early,” Jordyn whispered nervously.
“Or too late,” Connor said. “Have you tried to call him again?”
“Three times since we left the house. I don’t want to drive him crazy. I asked him to let me know if anything had changed.”
“All I know is we better not have driven all this way for nothing.” Connor sounded faintly annoyed.
“I’m sure it’s fine, babe. You know how small towns are. He’s probably outside on his porch or something. He probably hasn’t heard the phone.”
Connor chuckled. “Sweetheart, I think you’re confusing small towns with 1940.”
Jordyn dialed the number once more as they n
eared the street the GPS had directed them to.
“There it is!” Connor shouted as the car slowed next to a curb. The couple stared at the brick house in awe.
“Oh, Connor. It’s even better than the pictures.”
He smiled. “Yeah, it really is. I love the shutters. Gosh, babe, look at the yard. Can you imagine growing up with a yard like that? Our little tiger will just love it.” He rested his palm on Jordyn’s swelling belly.
She smiled at him. “Just imagine a swing set over there. Maybe a sandbox somewhere back here. We could even get a pool someday.”
“You’re right.” They sat, admiring the house as the minutes passed, dreaming of what could be. Finally, Connor broke the silence. “So, should we go see if someone’s home?”
Jordyn looked down at her phone, wishing it would ring, and sighed. “I guess we’ll have to.”
The Atwoods pulled into the empty drive, hoping someone would come outside. When no one did, they climbed from their car. They walked up the concrete walkway toward the wooden French doors. “I love how light this brick is.” Jordyn gasped.
“I know, and the columns are awesome,” Connor agreed.
The couple approached the doors, looking apprehensively at each other. Connor put his hand to the wood and knocked. They stood in silence, bright smiles plastered on their faces as they waited patiently for someone to answer. No sound came from inside. Connor knocked again, this time much louder.
“Did you notice there’s no phone number listed on the ‘For Sale’ sign in the yard?” Jordyn asked.
Connor looked back out at the yard, where a small red-and-white sign had fallen over into the grass. “Are you sure this is the right place?”
“This is the right address. It looks just like it did in the pictures.”
Connor leaned toward a shuttered window. “Well, it looks empty. I hate to say it, but I think someone tricked us. No one’s here and no one’s answering our calls. We have to go.”
“I guess so. I can’t believe someone could be so cruel.” Jordyn slipped her phone into her pocket, spirits low.
The couple turned around, both feeling upset, when they noticed an older man staring at them over a white fence surrounding the house next door.
“Hello!” Jordyn waved to the neighbor. “Could you tell us who owns this house?”
The man continued to stare, his white tank top covered in brown sweat spots. Finally, he said, “You must be Ms. Atwood?”
“Yes! Yes I am. This is my husband, Connor. Are you the gentleman I spoke to on the phone yesterday?”
“About the house?”
“Yes! I’ve been trying to call you all day. We just had to come see it. I hope it’s still available?”
“Yes,” he said simply, making no comment about why he hadn’t answered her calls.
“Well, great. It’s just lovely!”
“Thank you.” He nodded kindly, walking around the fence so that she could see him better. “It was my parents’. My mom passed away three years ago and left it to me. It’s been empty ever since.”
“I’m sorry to hear about your mom,” Connor said politely.
The man nodded.
“This house has been for sale for three years? I just can’t believe that.” Jordyn stared at the house as she spoke.
“Believe it.” The old man shrugged. “Maybe it’s haunted.”
Jordyn frowned. “Well, we aren’t too worried about that.”
“Suit yourselves then.” He pulled a ring of keys from his back pocket and began leading them up the long stretch of concrete leading to the house. He pushed open the doors, a stale smell welcoming them. He led them from room to room, each more beautiful than the last.
“This house is really old, so there are probably leaks.”
Jordyn turned on the kitchen faucet, checking under the sink. “Doesn’t look bad at all.”
The old man frowned.
When they made their way into the bedroom, he pointed out a weak spot in the floor that no one else could feel. In the living room, he pointed out a yellow spot on an otherwise perfectly white ceiling.
“There’s always paint.” Jordyn smiled at him.
“The windows are all old too,” he told them. “This place is sure to cost a fortune to heat.”
“We can have the windows replaced,” Jordyn told him, though they all looked fairly new to her. Room after room, he picked apart tiny flaws, making it more obvious than ever that he didn’t want to sell them his house. By the end of their tour though, Jordyn was more sure than ever that this would be their new home.
“We love it,” she exclaimed excitedly as they approached the front door once more.
The man stared at her with a furrowed brow. “Are you sure?”
“Oh, we’re positive.” She smiled. “We’d like to make you an offer.”
Connor, who’d been quiet throughout most of the tour, spoke up. “Wait a second, Jor. Can we talk about it first?”
Jordyn turned to her husband, frowning, and excused herself with Connor into another room.
“You’re sure you’re ready to make an offer? This is the only house we’ve looked at. There could be much better homes here,” Connor said softly, levelheaded as usual.
“Connor,” she whispered, “are we not looking at the same house? It doesn’t get better than this!”
“It’s nice, I mean, great. I just think we should look at others. He obviously doesn’t want to sell this house to us. Maybe that’s a sign.”
“It’s probably just a sentimental thing, babe. It was his parents’ house.”
Connor pressed his lips together. “I know you’re probably right. I just have a bad feeling. I can’t explain it.”
“I know.” She grasped his hand gently, rubbing her thumb over his wedding ring. “I hate leaving our home too, but we have to live somewhere. You have to transfer in four weeks, with or without a home.”
“I know that.” He nodded. “Okay, you’re right. You really want to do this?”
“Yes!” she told him. “Let’s buy a house.”
He kissed her lips quickly. “Let’s buy a house.”
They turned, entering the living room together with smiles on their faces.
“So, what’d you decide?” he asked.
“We’d like to offer you full asking price, pending inspection, and we want a quick closing. Less than forty-five days, if possible.” Connor spoke quickly.
The man stared at them for a few moments before scratching his head. “Okay.”
“Really?” Jordyn exclaimed.
He reached out his hand, shaking Connor’s and then Jordyn’s, a small smile on his face. “You bet. It’s all yours.”
“Thank you so much!” Connor said happily.
Jordyn gasped, grabbing her belly. “Oh!” she cried out in shock.
Connor reached for her instinctively. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She waved him away, tears suddenly forming in her eyes. “It’s the baby. He’s kicking. He’s kicking. He must know he’s home.”
Connor placed his hands on her belly, his eyes brightening. He kissed Jordyn’s forehead, giving her even more butterflies.
Jordyn looked at the old man, whose face was filled with an emotion she didn’t recognize. “You’re pregnant?” he asked.
“Twenty-eight weeks along as of yesterday,” she told him. “I know I don’t really look it. The doctor says I’m carrying him in my back.”
The old man didn’t smile. “You said you didn’t have children…on the phone, I asked you.”
The Atwoods looked at him in confusion. “We don’t yet. This will be our first,” Connor answered.
“But you should have told me that. I just assumed you weren’t…” He trailed off. “I have to go.”
“Excuse me?” Jordyn’s happiness disappeared rapidly. “What’s wrong?”
“We have to go. I’m sorry. I have somewhere I’m supposed to be.” He glanced at his wrist, though he wore no
watch.
The couple allowed him to show them out of the house quickly, both upset and confused. He locked the door behind them and rushed off of the porch, not bothering to look back.
“What in the world was that about?” Jordyn asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe he really, really hates kids,” Connor teased, showing his wife to their car.
***
Henry Taylor
Henry Taylor approached his door with apprehension. What had he done? He had specifically asked that damn woman if she had children and she’d lied to him. Well, at least manipulated the truth, he told himself. He tried to reason with himself that this wasn’t his fault, that he’d done all he could do, but his stomach churned with each step he took.
As he climbed up the stairs to his porch, he spied a white envelope lying on his mat. His heart lurched. He picked it up with shaking hands, looking around. He was being watched. He was sure of it. He pushed the door open, walking into his house and shutting the door firmly, locking it behind him. He pulled open the envelope and out fell a white slip of paper. He flipped it over, the print so tiny he had trouble reading it. He moved the page closer to his face, the block lettering beginning to make sense to him. It wasn’t a letter, just a note. A warning, really. On the small paper, there were six little words:
Sell the house or she dies.
Chapter Two
Jordyn
Seven Months Later
Jordyn crossed the street in front of Benson’s Deli, thankful her shopping trip was nearly done. She walked through the door, surprised to see so many people out today. As she walked through the aisles, she smiled at a few familiar faces, people from her neighborhood, none of whom smiled back. Bates, to say the very least, was not the friendliest of towns. Since their move six months ago, the Atwoods had found adjusting to their new lives to be anything but easy. The locals seemed to be very reserved, each keeping to themselves.