by Kris Norris
Sawyer cracked open the door, stepping onto the kerb when the back door lurched open and Mallory all but fell out of the truck. She looked dazed, her gaze focused on the bungalow across the street. He glanced over at it, noting the chipped paint and overgrown yard. Either the place was deserted or the owner simply didn’t give a shit.
“Mallory?”
She ignored him, rounding the truck before stumbling to a halt. He glanced at Cole, but the man shrugged, calling her name. She didn’t respond to Cole either, bracing some of her weight on the tailgate as she continued to stare at the home as if she saw something neither of them did.
Fear tugged at the edge of his consciousness, quickening his heart rate slightly. He moved over to her, snagging her arm as she started to cross the street. She resisted for a moment, pulling against his hold before turning to look at him, her mouth a thin line across her face.
He narrowed his eyes, more than aware of the fear reflected in hers. “Mallory?”
Her brow furrowed as she shifted her gaze between the two men. She yanked her arm free, stumbling backwards a step before glaring at Cole. “What the hell is this? Some kind of joke? Because I assure you, it isn’t funny.”
Cole looked at Sawyer, confusion clearly etched on his face, as he faced Mallory. “Are you okay? And what do you mean by joke?”
Mallory continued to glare as she pointed at the house behind her. “That! Why the hell are we standing here, staring at that? I thought we were going to the prison or hunting down Thomas?”
Cole held his hands up, obviously trying to soothe her. “Mal. I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about. We are hunting down Thomas.” He motioned to the house. “This is his last known address.”
The colour drained from her face as her mouth hinged open in apparent shock. She glanced behind her, almost as if she wasn’t certain what she’d find, before shaking her head, her hands trembling as she raised them beside her. “That is Thomas’ residence?” She shook her head. “There’s got to be a mistake. He can’t live there. What kind of bullshit is this?”
She reeled backward and Sawyer grabbed her as a car sped past, barely missing her. He pulled her tight to his chest, his heart racing, his breath coming in strangled pants. He didn’t know what the hell she was talking about, but he knew her intimately enough to tell she was terrified.
He held firm as she struggled against him, her back rigid, her hands pressed hard on his ribs, until her body finally relaxed, her head turning to rest on his chest. He didn’t speak as a hushed sob broke free, the simple sound making his heart squeeze tight. She took a ragged breath then eased away, wiping at the wash of tears staining her cheeks.
Sawyer held his ground, not letting her get more than a foot away. “Better?”
She nodded, though he could tell it was more for his benefit than because she actually felt any form of relief. Cole moved in beside them, his forehead creased as he stared at her. She offered an apologetic smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
Sawyer gently clasped her hand, holding it in his as he motioned to the house. “Think you can tell us what’s going on? What has you so freaked out?”
Her chin quivered for a moment before she visibly drew herself up, her throat bobbing as she swallowed forcefully. “It’s Thomas’ house, or should I say, my house.”
Sawyer glanced at Cole, but the man didn’t seem any the wiser, darting his gaze between them and the bungalow across the street. If he knew anything, he’d hidden it well.
Sawyer pursed his lips, knowing he had to tread carefully. “Your house? I wasn’t aware you owned another home.”
Her mouth turned down at the edges as she exhaled, looking as if she wanted to hit him. “It’s not mine anymore.” She turned her head away, adding, “Sometimes I wish it never had been,” under her breath.
Understanding dawned on him and he stared at the house again. Though it looked unassuming, he had no trouble imagining the horrors she’d describing playing behind the closed curtains and shrouded walls. He clenched his jaw, not sure what to say when Cole muscled in.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, Mal, but…” He closed the distance, pointing to the bruise on her cheek. “Are you sure you didn’t get a concussion last night? ’Cause the last time I checked, I had a key to your house, and this ain’t it.”
She spun around to glare at him again. “Seriously, Cole? You just missed the whole part where I said it wasn’t mine anymore?” She huffed out an irritated breath. “This was my childhood home. You know…the place where my mother decided to redecorate my room with my father’s blood!” She gazed at the place over her shoulder. “I haven’t been back since the police dragged me out of there.”
Cole cursed and slammed his hand down on the back of his truck. He looked ready to strangle someone. “Fuck. Are you sure?” He groaned and waved the question off. “Of course you’re sure. It’s not something you’d forget. But I mean… Shit. What are the chances the guy we’re trying to link to Davies just happens to live in the same house where your mother killed your father?”
She clenched her jaw. “I’d say about zero.” She shook her head. “Come on. Even I realise this isn’t some weird coincidence. First, the killer starts marking his new victims with the same wound Davies gave me. Then he picks the alley where I got stabbed. Now the trail has led us back to my version of the Amityville Horror house. You can’t tell me this wasn’t planned. Sawyer’s right. This is personal…intimate.”
Sawyer grimaced. “I was actually hoping to be wrong in this instance.” He nodded at Mallory. “And when the hell did you tell Cole about your parents?”
Mallory scoffed. “I don’t think this is the time or the place to get pissy over that.”
“Isn’t it?”
She glared at him.
“Fine.” Sawyer pushed down his sense of disappointment. While he didn’t care that Cole knew about her past, he’d be lying if he didn’t admit it hurt.
Mallory cursed and stomped a foot on the ground, a deep flush colouring her cheeks. “Look, if I’d had my way, neither of you would know, but Cole had the misfortune of being at the house when the damn prison called to inform me my mother was refusing medical care. It’s not the kind of call you can lie your way out of, especially when you need a ride to the bloody facility to sign a bunch of forms to legally enforce the treatment. Now can we please get back to why the hell Thomas is living in my old house?”
“You need a better reason than to mess with your head?” Sawyer motioned at the three of them. “We were mostly responsible for Davies’ capture, and his ultimate sentence. So whether this is Davies reincarnated or some deranged partner, I think it’s safe to say they’re just trying to get to us.” He nodded at her. “To you. Let’s face it, Mallory. Stabbing a Fed was Davies’ biggest mistake. The DA might have gone for multiple life sentences if he hadn’t nearly killed one of their own. Everyone knows there’s no coming back from that. As soon as he stuck that knife in your side, he was a walking dead man.”
“How apropos since he still seems to be one.” She sighed and glanced at the house again. “So now what?”
Cole shrugged. “We stick to the plan and go have a chat with Mr Thomas.” He inched closer. “I’d suggest you stay in the truck, but then you’d probably hit me.”
Mallory chuckled, patting Cole on the shoulder. “And to think you didn’t want to take over as my partner.”
“Just my luck no one else would have you.”
“Then I guess that means you’re stuck with me…here, too.”
Cole sighed, but nodded, checking the street before shambling across. Mallory took a deep breath and turned to follow, when Sawyer snagged her wrist. She stumbled to a halt, glancing at his hand before meeting his gaze, her question clearly stated by the arch of one eyebrow.
Sawyer held his ground. “Cole might not want to face your wrath, but I’m more than up for the job. So answer me one thing before we go inside.”
She schooled her feat
ures. “All right.”
“Tell me there’s no chance of you freezing up in there, and I’ll gladly have you watch my back. But if you think, even for a moment, that place might be too much…”
He didn’t finish, more than aware he’d made his case. Mallory’s mouth pulled tight as she shifted on her feet, her gaze darting between the truck and some spot on the pavement. Another car passed behind them before she released a weary breath and raised her face to his.
“I’ll be okay.” She raised her hand, silencing any further questions. “I’m not about to put your life or Cole’s at risk. But I can handle this. We might be chasing a ghost, but it’s not my father’s, so it’s good.”
Sawyer stared at her eyes, watching fear wash in and out of them. While he had no doubt she was scared, he could read the honesty in her expression.
He offered her a reassuring smile. “Just do me a favour and try not to go all Jackie Chan, as Cole puts it, on anyone before we question them.”
She swatted his shoulder. “I’ll do my best.”
Sawyer simply nodded and followed her across the street, meeting up with Cole on the porch. He didn’t speak, just stood there, scanning the area, as Sawyer approached the door. The room beyond the windows looked dark and Sawyer had a bad feeling this wasn’t going to go as they’d hoped.
He rang the doorbell, stepping back as he kept his attention on the door. After a minute, he banged his hand on the wood, secretly praying someone would open up.
“There’s no one here.” Mallory moved forward, twisting the knob. It gave easily in her grip, the edge of the door sliding open. She glanced at the wedge of space then at Sawyer. “And I’m supposed to believe the man doesn’t lock his door, whether he’s home or not?”
Cole snorted. “Maybe he just has faith in his fellow man.”
Mallory all but rolled her eyes. “Right. A wrongly convicted felon who’s just spent a year on death row has faith in his fellow man. That seems reasonable.” She looked at Sawyer. “I’d say our reason for knocking on his door is just cause for taking a peek inside, don’t you?”
Sawyer grinned. “I don’t know about the two of you, but I’m genuinely concerned for Mr Thomas’ welfare. It wouldn’t be right not to ensure he’s not trapped under heavy furniture and unable to get to the door.”
“Exactly.” Mallory nodded at Cole. “You want to go first?”
“I’ll go around back. Make sure our friend isn’t hopping the fence.”
The edges of Mallory’s lips turned down slightly. “You sure that’s wise? Might be better not to split up.”
Cole flashed her a beaming smile. “It’s standard protocol to have one agent secure any alternate entryways. Besides, I thought you said I was the brawn in our relationship.”
“Just don’t shoot Thomas if he is trying to run. We need answers.”
“Then I’ll be sure not to shoot him in the mouth.” He winked at her, jumping off the porch as he headed for the rear yard.
Mallory sighed. “That man is insane.”
“Of course he is. He took you as a partner, didn’t he?”
Sawyer dodged her slap and eased the door open, palming the grip of his gun as the old hinges creaked in protest. A triangle of light spread out across the floor, casting the corners of the room into shadows. A scattering of furniture filled the living space, making the room feel desolate. Deserted.
“Mr Thomas? FBI. We’d like to ask you some questions.”
An eerie silence filled the house, prickling the hairs on the nape of his neck. There was something unnatural about the way the house was arranged. It felt more than on display and Sawyer had a bad feeling they were walking into a trap.
He drew his gun, blocking Mallory’s way when she went to step by him. He didn’t speak, just gave her a hardened stare. She clenched her jaw, but nodded, following his lead as he moved inside, slowly closing the door behind them.
He leaned in close. “We’ll go together. Clear one room at a time.”
“I should lead.” She held up a finger when he opened his mouth to protest. “I used to live here. I think that means I’m familiar with the layout.”
He cursed but nodded. If it were any other location, he wouldn’t second-guess her taking lead. He needed to show her he trusted her. “I’ve got your back.”
A wicked smile spread across her face before she turned, heading for the door on their right. She stayed quiet, using hand signals to announce her intentions. As she mouthed three, she threw open the door, her gun sweeping the space as he covered her from behind. Nothing moved in the small office as she checked behind the door before moving forward again.
They cleared the kitchen next, checking the pantry and closets as they went. Sawyer tried not to imagine an older version of Mallory lying in a pool of blood on the floor, but Mallory’s words from that first night made the image waver in his head. God, how many times had that story played out? How had Mallory not succumbed to a much darker personality?
He watched her move. If being in the home made her uneasy, she wasn’t showing it, not that he expected her to. She was nothing if not stubborn and after stating she’d be fine, he knew she’d rather suffer in a silent hell than show him or Cole any trace of anxiety.
He sighed, finally grabbing her arm as they made their way back to the hallway. She glanced at him, confusion in her eyes as she motioned up the hallway.
He tried to smile, but knew it was probably more of a grimace than anything. “Are you sure you’re okay being in here?”
The lines around her mouth creased ever so slightly as she drew herself up. “I told you I would be.”
He sighed and brushed a finger along her jaw before dropping it to his side. “I know what you said, and I’m confident you won’t let so much as a glimmer of disgust cross your face but… Shit. This place. It’s…”
She scoffed. “Wrong. Yeah, I know. I grew up here, and I can assure you it was just as creepy and evil back then.” She punched his arm. “I’m not going to lie and say I’m having a good time, but…I’m okay. I know my dad can’t hurt me so it’s not quite as bad as I feared it’d be.”
“Good. Because I swear I’m one second away from running out the door.” He gave her a genuine smile this time. “Let’s keep going, before Cole breaks down the back door.”
She lifted the corner of her lips slightly and moved down the hall, walking with a familiarity that still unnerved him. And here she thought she wasn’t strong enough. If only she realised how wrong she was.
They cleared what looked like the master bedroom then came to the last door on the left. She stopped and he couldn’t help but notice it was the first time she’d hesitated.
He moved closer, nudging her. “Something wrong?”
She shrugged and reached for the handle. “This was my room.”
She didn’t elaborate, but she didn’t need to. He suspected what was going through her mind. How the room had looked the last time she’d been there and how those images must still linger.
He rested his hand on hers, motioning for her to step back. She looked as if she was going to argue, then silently relented, moving behind him as he palmed the handle. The knob creaked as he turned it, and he readied his gun before swinging it open. Light beamed through the open window, making the room oddly bright compared to the rest of the house. He blinked against the sudden glare and took a step forward, then stopped dead.
“Holy shit.” He covered his mouth with the back of his hand, trying not to taste the metallic scent hanging in the air. “Mallory, don’t—”
Her gasp cut him off, and he turned. Her face looked whiter than he’d ever seen it, as her gaze travelled the room, from the blood arced across the ceiling and quilt, to the teenage girl mutilated and posed on the bed, before settling on the man lying face down on the floor, more blood pooled around his chest as it dripped from several puncture wounds along his back. Something akin to a whimper passed her lips before she backed up, bending over and resting her weig
ht against the wall.
Sawyer moved in front of her, keeping her at his back as he kept watch at the door. This wasn’t a random killing, and while he hadn’t tracked down the crime photos from Mallory’s family, he had a pretty good guess that this was a close approximation of what her bedroom had looked like after the murder, though the fact the killer had included another victim in place of Mallory was more than disconcerting.
Mallory grabbed his shoulder. “I don’t need protecting.”
“Do you honestly think the bastard who did this didn’t stick around to see your reaction? While there are a shit ton of questions I have no answers for, the one thing I’m certain of is…we aren’t alone.”
“Fuck. Cole’s still outside. Alone.”
“We’ll get to him. Just stay close and don’t even think of darting off after anyone. Got me?”
She met his gaze, a flash of hurt in hers. “Weren’t you listening last night when I told you I wanted to be a better partner—in every sense of the word? Now stop treating me like a child and let’s get Cole.”
He didn’t stop her as she pushed past him, clearing the hallway before darting down it. She’d mentioned there was a small mudroom at the end of the house, and he assumed she was headed there. He followed after her, listening for any hint of movement as they stopped at the back door. It didn’t look as if Cole had made it to the rear porch yet, and that thought sent a cold shiver down Sawyer’s spine. The man should have been inside the house by now.
Mallory peeked out a window. “Cole should be here. Where the hell is he?”
“Maybe he couldn’t gain access to the yard?”
She scoffed at him. “I’ve seen him scale fences bigger than the one lining this house. No way something like that stopped him. And if it did, then why didn’t he just follow us in the front?” Her mouth quirked. “I don’t like this.”
“Cole can handle himself. But if he is hurt, getting ourselves killed won’t be the rescue he needs.”
“So help me, if Davies has so much as touched him…”
