JOEL RUSHEDinto the hall, and Cassie was at his side within seconds.
She looked up at him, eyes wide. “Penelope?”
He nodded. They’d all know that screech anywhere. Penelope had screeched like an old barn owl when the group had attempted to watch a horror movie about a month back. Her scream didn’t scare him. The reason behind her scream did.
Reaching down, he took Cassie’s hand in his, and they bolted down the hall for Pen and Nat’s room.
Footsteps clamored down the hall after them. Everyone was coming.
“What’s going on?” Jayce hollered from behind the next door over.
“I’ll tell you when I know,” Iz yelled back.
Joel led Cassie the last few feet into the room.
Penelope stood in the center of it, sobbing and shrieking in spurts.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his gaze tracking to Nat, asleep on the bed. He frowned. How on earth could she sleep through all the commotion?
“I think she’s... she’s dead,” Penelope wailed.
“Why do you think that?” Joel asked, wishing they weren’tdoing this in front of an audience. It would only elate the killer and scare the rest of them.
“I tried waking her.” Penelope hiccupped. “Her eyes are wide and unmoving.”
“Okay. Iz...” He turned to his sister. “Would you take Penelope to the parlor and sit with her?”
Iz nodded. “Of course.” She wrapped her arm around Penelope’s quivering shoulders and steered her out of the room.
Joel turned to the remaining crowd. “Could all you head back to the parlor?” he asked. “All except Cassie.”
Heath frowned, puffing out his chest like a preening peacock. “Why Cassie?”
“Because she’s trained in these things,” Devon said.
He knew how to handle a case, being a CSI at the ME’s office where he, Cassie, and Heath worked. But, then again, so did Heath, and he acted like he had no clue, but ... was that just an act to throw them off his scent? Was he more intelligent than he let on? Could he be Cassie’s stalker?
“You ready?” she asked, resting her hand on his arm, shaking him from his thoughts.
He turned. Everyone had actually listened and left the two of them alone in the room. Everyone wanted to know what was going on—always did—but no one wanted to see the results, and he couldn’t blame them.
With a stiff breath, Joel approached the bed, and Cassie shadowed his steps.
“Ready?” he asked.
She nodded.
Please let Nat just be sleeping.
But he knew better. Bracing himself, he rolled Nat over. Her eyes were wide, her tongue sticking out of the side of her mouth. “Looks like strangulation.”
Cassie studied the bruising around her neck. “I concur.”
“Poor thing.” Joel shook his head, stepped back, and pulled his gloves off.
“Either the killer murdered her in her bed before Penelope entered...”
“Or he killed her somewhere else and staged her death here, so she’d appear sleeping, biding him more time....”
