Scarlett’s back wasn’t moving.
Her heart started to beat faster, dread pooling in her gut.
“Scarlett?” Her voice was louder this time, and there was more urgency.
Still nothing.
With trembling fingers, she reached out and touched Scarlett’s back. No reaction. No movement.
No. This wasn’t possible. She had to be in a deep sleep or something.
Slowly, Clara reached for the pulse on Scarlett’s neck.
There was none.
She shot back, her throat closing, cutting off her breath. Her knees felt so weak that she wanted to crumble.
A distant knock sounded on the front door, but Clara couldn’t move. She could barely think. Black dots began to dance in her vision, bile crawling up her throat.
Dead. Scarlett was dead.
The knocking sounded again, this time louder and followed by a voice.
“Clara, it’s Holden. I had to come back. We can’t leave things like this.”
Air. She needed air.
She stumbled to the bedroom door and grabbed the frame to keep herself upright. Her head was in a deep fog, her lungs barely allowing her to breathe. When she finally reached the front door, she yanked it open for Holden.
The second his eyes hit her, his expression shifted from concern to panic to something harder that she couldn’t quite name.
“What’s wrong?”
“She’s dead.” The words were so quiet she wasn’t even sure they crossed the distance. “Scarlett’s dead.”
Holden’sentire body locked at Clara’s words, years of training in the military taking over as any words he’d been about to say died on his lips. He moved quickly, stepping inside the house and locking the door before pulling his Glock from his concealed holster. He didn’t always carry, but fuck, was he glad he had tonight.
He pushed Clara behind his body, shielding her. If it was up to him, Clara wouldn’t be in the house at all, but there wasn’t a chance in hell he was leaving her alone outside if there was a killer somewhere. It was too dark out there. Too many places for someone to hide.
He scanned her hall and living area. “Did you see or hear anyone?”
“No.” Her voice was quiet, a small shake in it. “But the back door was ajar and the lock broken.”
Shit.If someone had killed Scarlett, they could still be here.
He grabbed his cell.
Jesse answered on the second ring. “Hey—”
“You need to get to Clara’s housenow. Her roommate’s dead.”
There was a small pause. “Dead?”
“Yes. Come quickly.”
Jesse cursed. “Coming.”
“Where is she?” Holden asked, keeping his Glock raised.
