Emma Frost Mystery Box Set 4

by Willow Rose

  I can't remember them being this noisy, though.

  I sat up in my bed, slightly worried. The noise grew into loud banging sounds, and I wondered if it had anything to do with what I had experienced earlier in the downstairs bathroom.

  Is it frogs? Please, let it just be frogs.

  The noise stopped just as abruptly as it had started, and I fell back in the bed with a deep sigh, my head sinking into the pillow. I closed my eyes to go back to sleep, but thoughts of my book and the newspapers and my publisher rummaged in my mind and wouldn't let me rest.

  Had I really made a mistake like they all said? Had I destroyed my career? I was beginning to think so.

  No, you love this book, Emma. Stand up for yourself. They'll come around. They'll see. Just give it time.

  I managed to doze off, but a sound woke me up again. It wasn't the same as earlier; this one was different. It sounded like it was raining…inside.

  DRIP-DRIP-DRIP.

  My eyes shot open, and I looked around me. The sound was coming from my bathroom. The door was ajar, and light was coming out from behind it. I had forgotten to shut it off. The dripping was followed by a slithering sound, like something big was moving across the floor, something big and wet. The slithering sound soon became more of a slushing one, almost slurping, and I found myself staring at the door and the small crack of light, my heart pounding in my chest.

  Something was in there, something wet and slimy.

  A snake?

  I shuddered at the thought, then got out of my bed. As I put on my slippers, I spotted Brutus. He was sitting in my room, also staring at the bathroom door. I looked at the door to my bedroom. It was slightly ajar, and he had to have snuck in here during the night.

  "Gosh, you scared me, Brutus," I said and held my chest.

  I stared at the dog with the shining eyes, then wondered how he had gotten out of Victor's room where he usually slept with Vic and Skye. I distinctly remembered having left him there with them, sitting in the corner, watching them the way he always did. I had wondered—like so many times before—if the dog even slept at all. He seemed to be awake twenty-four-seven, always watching Victor.

  As I approached him, I could hear him growling. A low deep growl that sounded almost like a rumble. Brutus never made a sound, so that coming from him was quite alarming to me. Something was definitely in that bathroom. Something that had Brutus on his toes.

  "You hear it too, huh, buddy?" I said to him and stood beside him while the slithering and slurping noises continued in my bathroom.

  I wondered if I was going to find a python in there. It had to be of that size to make a sound like that.

  "Never met a frog that made a sound like that," I said.

  I wondered for a second if I should just close the door and call the plumber—or maybe an exterminator—in the morning, but my curiosity got the better of me. If that thing came through my pipes, it could get to anywhere in the house. I had to know at least what I was dealing with here.

  "Okay, Brutus, I’m going in. I expect you to have my back, all right?" I said to the dog. His low rumbling made me believe he agreed. If anyone ever had my back, I knew it would be him. Somehow, I just knew. Maybe because he had saved me once before.

  I walked to the door and grabbed the handle with a deep inhale, bracing myself for what might wait behind it. I pulled it fully open. As I did, whatever it was that was lurking in there moved fast and disappeared down the drain of my bathtub. I hurried inside just in time to see it slip through the small holes, looking like water being sucked down fast.

  What the heck?

  I realized I was standing in a puddle of water and groaned. There had to be a leak somewhere.

  Or maybe the animal dripped onto the floor, leaving the puddle.

  But that made no sense. No big animal could come out of that tiny drain and get back in that fast. But no small animal could have made that big of a puddle or that loud of a sound either.

  I didn't get it. It made no sense.

  "Maybe I was still dreaming, huh?" I asked Brutus who had come to the door and was sitting in the opening. He had stopped growling.

  "Nah, it was probably just a frog," I said and turned off the lights before I walked back toward my bed, Brutus following me closely. I let him stay in my room the rest of the night in the hope he would warn and protect me should this creature—that I still hoped and prayed was nothing but a frog—decide to return.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  "Sounds like you have rats," Sophia said. "I had rats once in the attic, and they made an awful noise at night."

  I sat down and placed a cup of coffee in front of her. I hadn't slept much more that night and felt exhausted. Both Victor and Maya had left for school, and Skye was in Victor's room as usual when he wasn't here, waiting for him to come back. I was beginning to wonder what to do about the girl. She needed to go to school soon and not just hang out around here, but I didn't know how to have her go without alerting the authorities. For some reason, I didn't dare to. Morten was my ally in this, and he was doing what he could to search for her parents and keep an eye out for anyone looking for a child her age, but so far, he hadn't found any matches. The problem was, I couldn't really let them take her away. Not just because it would devastate Victor. It most certainly would. But I also feared for what they might do to her if she became a number in the system or if anyone discovered the things she was capable of. I just couldn't figure out where she had come from and why no one seemed to miss her.

  "You really think it could be rats?" I asked. "I mean, there was a big puddle on the floor, and just how would a rat get through my drain? The holes aren't very big. They're like the size of a small coin."

  "Rats have been known to get in and out of places that seemed impossible before. That wouldn't stop them. Ugh. I hate those creatures. So nasty and hard to get rid of, might I add."

  I sipped my coffee, shuddering. "I hate rats."

  "You probably need to get an exterminator out here to have a look at it," Sophia said and grabbed a piece of mint chocolate that I had put out on the table for us. My laptop was lying next to me, the lid still closed. It was getting harder and harder to resist it. A big part of me desperately wanted to go on it and check what the reviewers said or go on Facebook, but Sophia had told me it was still too early. She was here to keep me company, so I wouldn't fall in, she had told me when she walked into my kitchen this morning and asked for coffee, asap.

  "Besides it's a lot more fun to hang out here than clean the house after six kids ate breakfast," she added.

  I, for one, was grateful for her visits. Especially today when I didn't like being alone in this big house. I felt the entire house was creaking and moaning in the cold north wind blowing outside. After the night I had, I didn't feel comfortable being here.

  "Say, have you ever heard about a plumber that disappeared back in the eighties?" I asked.

  Sophia looked at me, then shook her head. "Not that I can recall. I was just a young child back then. Why?"

  I shrugged. "The plumber who was here yesterday told me he had a colleague that disappeared at Fishy Pines back then. I’ve been thinking about that all night while lying awake."

  "Why? Couldn't the guy have just disappeared because he wanted to? Maybe because he was tired of working where everyone else poops? Maybe because he was sick of his wife and the life he was living? It's happened before: Someone telling their wife they're going for cigarettes and then never coming back. He's probably sitting on some Caribbean island by now."

  "I have a problem with that assumption. Why do people keep saying that? What if something happened to him?"

  "Then we would have found his body by now, don't you think? No body, no crime, right?" Sophia said.

  "Maybe, maybe not," I said and sipped my coffee.

  Sophia observed me. "Ah, I get it. You see a story there, don't you? You want to write a new book."

  I shrugged and grabbed another chocolate. "I don't know i
f there's anything there yet, but I just have this feeling that I need to look into it."

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  It had to be the most embarrassing day of her life. Maya walked the hallways of school, her backpack slung over her shoulder, while everyone—literally everyone—she passed smiled and nodded at her, looking like they shared some deep secret. Some of the girls were pointing fingers at her while whispering to one another as she walked past them.

  "Why are they doing that?" Maya asked Christina while fighting her blushing red cheeks.

  "They're impressed with you," she said.

  "Impressed? What is there to be impressed with?" Maya asked, surprised and a little annoyed.

  "Uh, duh. Alexander kissed you. He's only the number one most popular guy in the school, and he doesn’t walk around kissing just anyone. As a matter of fact, you're the first that anyone has heard of. Many a girl has tried to get him to kiss her, but without luck."

  Maya scoffed. "It's really not that impressive. I wish they would all just leave me alone."

  They walked into the classroom for history. Alex was sitting in his seat, surrounded by his friends. They looked at him with admiration as he spoke.

  The entire classroom went silent when Maya entered, and all eyes were on the two of them. Someone gasped while most of the others held their breath. Maya felt like they were the most ridiculous people in the world.

  "Hey, Maya," Alex said and gave her one of his famous smiles. Now, all eyes were on her. Would she respond back?

  She did, but not in a way that Alex had expected. Maya simply groaned loudly, then sat down at her own desk and pulled out her books. Whispers filled the room, and soon Alex was losing face.

  "Wow," Christina said and sat next to her. "That was brutal. You totally destroyed him there."

  "Well, he deserves it," Maya said. "For being such an idiot and thinking he can tell lies about me and expect me to be nice to him."

  But Alex wasn't going to give up just like that. With the entire class following his every move, he walked to her desk and sat on it.

  "I like your shirt," he said. "It really brings out your eyes."

  Maya looked up at him, then shook her head. "Where do you get your lines from? A book or the Internet?"

  He laughed like she had said something funny and shook his head like they were enjoying each other's company. The teacher then walked in, and Alex leaned over and whispered in Maya's ear:

  "I will get you to change your mind. Just you wait and see."

  Maya answered with another groan, but as she was about to say something, the teacher started class and Alex rushed to his seat. During the entire class, he kept looking at her, sending her air kisses and winking at her every time she accidentally looked his way.

  What was his deal? Why was he so insistent on having her? Was it just because he couldn't? Because he could have any other girl in school except her? Maybe. But Maya didn't want to be a part of his games. She wanted to be left alone. She had burned her fingers on a boy before and wasn't going to be so stupid as to do it again. This guy had all the traits of a true psychopath, and she wasn't falling for one again.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  "John Anderson disappeared on January 25th, 1982. His wife was expecting him home for dinner, but he never made it. His boss told the police that he responded to a job at Fishy Pines right before the end of the day. That’s the last anyone has ever heard of him."

  I looked at Morten while reading from the police report. I had been researching all day since Sophia left me, and without even checking Facebook or Googling my name even once—an accomplishment I was very proud of. Now it was late afternoon, and Morten had stopped by. Maya was in her room as usual, while Victor and Skye played in the yard.

  "His wife told the police that she was waiting at home with pork chops and mashed potatoes, his favorite dish, and she knew he would never stay away from that on purpose. He had promised her he would be home at six and so she counted on it. When he didn't arrive, she thought he had been held up at work; that happened often. 'But he would always come home. Never more than half an hour late,' she said. So as the clock struck ten, she called the police, who came out and talked to her. They calmed her down and told her to wait and see if he didn't show up eventually, but after two days, they started their search of the island. With no results. The guy had vanished. Listen to what she added here: 'I could have understood it if I had served chicken or a salad or something, but John would never stay away from my pork chops. Not my John.'"

  I looked at Morten with a wry smile. He shrugged and drank his coffee. "So what? It's thirty-six years ago. People disappear from time to time, most of them do so deliberately. You know, running from debt or from a life they can't stand anymore."

  "Or…maybe something happened to him," I said.

  Morten scoffed. He glared at me. "Say, exactly where did you get all that information?"

  I pushed the police report that I had printed out aside. "Newspapers and stuff."

  He shook his head. "I don't believe you. You hacked into the police server again? Are you just looking for trouble?"

  I sighed. "The newspapers didn't exactly write much about it. They printed his picture and wrote that he was missing, but they didn't write much else. No details. I needed details. For my book."

  He sipped his coffee and gave me a look. "I can't continue looking away, you know…when you keep doing stupid stuff."

  "I really think there might be a story here," I said, ignoring his threats.

  "How so? You have no body, no crime, no witnesses?" he asked.

  "Actually, there was one. Witness." I pulled out a piece of paper from the report. "I had to go deep into the files to find her, but there was one woman who was there when he arrived at Fishy Pines. She was the nurse on duty, and she let him in."

  "And what did she say?"

  "That's the strange thing. Her name is here, see, but there is no statement. Not according to the records. I can't find it anywhere."

  "It may not be there digitally. Maybe it's in the old files in the basement of the station," he said and put his cup down.

  I leaned forward and looked into his eyes. "And that's where you come in."

  "No, no, no, Emma. I don't have time for this…I am…"

  "I know you don't want to be involved but come on. It's one little trip to the basement. Just look for her statement, and you'll make me a very happy gal."

  Morten looked at me with an exhale. I leaned over and kissed him, then looked into his eyes.

  "Pretty please?"

  He sighed. "All right. All right. Now I have to get home. I promised Jytte I'd have dinner with her tonight and binge watch Stranger Things."

  I made a disappointed sound. "I thought we were having dinner."

  "Please, don't start, Emma. It doesn’t matter what I do; I always end up disappointing someone," he said. "Between you and Jytte, I can't win."

  "All right," I said.

  Morten leaned down and kissed me again.

  "Tomorrow then?"

  "I'll stop by at some point during the day. I promised Jytte I would take her to the movies at night. I can do dinner with you first, though."

  I sighed, disappointed again. I couldn't really be mad at him for wanting to be with his child, but the girl was nineteen and done with high school. How long was she planning on still living at home? She had a job now; she could easily pay for some small condo downtown. It was like she was clinging to her father lately. Maybe because she knew that, as soon as she left, he would probably move in with me.

  Why do you think like that? The poor girl simply loves her father and wants to be with him.

  "All right," I said and blew him another kiss. "But you gotta promise me to spend the night soon. I miss being close to you. I mean dinners and coffee are nice and all, but we need more than that."

  He nodded, then touched my cheek gently. "I know. And we will. It's just between you and her, I feel kind of worn out. Plus, Jy
tte doesn’t like me staying away at night. Makes her feel lonely, she says."

  "She should get a boyfriend," I said.

  "Yeah, well, I’m in no rush with that part. Right now, it seems she's very vulnerable. Since she finished high school, she's been very isolated and keeping to herself at my house, almost hiding out, only leaving to go to work, a job I found for her because she was just lying there at home on the couch or in her bed doing nothing."

  "What about college?"

  He sighed. It was the worried kind. "I don't know what to tell you, Emma. It's like she doesn’t want to. I keep telling her to apply so she can start after the summer, but she doesn’t even want to talk about it. I think the future frightens her because all of her friends know what they want to do, but she doesn’t."

  "I am sorry, Morten. I didn't know."

  He nodded, smiling. "It's okay. She just needs a little extra attention from me these days, till she pushes through this. Just bear with me, will you?"

  I nodded. "Of course. Our kids come before anything else, right?"

  He kissed me again, then rushed out the door while I stared at the police report in front of me and glared at the name of the nurse.

  "Laila Lund. Where are you now, Laila Lund?"

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  He loathed shoveling snow. Christian Staun had woken up at five o'clock this morning to clear off the sidewalk. Why? Because his grumpy old neighbor had threatened to call the police on him if he didn't do it. It was the law, yes, but Christian didn't exactly have much time to uphold it. Between running his own refrigerator business and taking care of his paralyzed wife all on his own, there really weren't many available hours in the day. Besides, it kept snowing, so it didn't really matter if he cleared the sidewalk in front of his house or not. It would only be covered in those traitorous whirling flakes within the next hour again, and he'd have to start all over.