He makes a face. “Don’t patronize me.”
I throw my hands into the air. “Good grief. I meant it, idiot.”
“Why are you asking this anyway? You plan to kick off soon?”
My head lowers and I stare at my shoes, not wanting to meet his eyes. “I wanted to know what Garrett might have experienced when he...” My voice cracks. I shake my head, trying to clear away the emotion. “Died.”
Billy clears his throat, turning his back on me and walking toward the front room. “He likely was beamed up and taken straight to paradise.” Resentment is thick in his tone and words, and I can’t blame him.
Except I’m not sure he’s right. If our accidents are what link us, then Garrett might be stuck somewhere too. I can only hope whoever he’s connected with treats him well.
“I was stuck in some gray haze, roaming aimlessly with nobody to talk to until I ended up here.” Billy stares off into the corner, lost to his thoughts.
I stuff down the sadness creeping in and decide to distract myself with what always does the trick. Cleaning.
I grab my earbuds off the counter, popping one into each ear and pulling up my music app, shuffling my recently played songs, drowning out Billy and everything else.
I clean for what feels like hours, dancing around each room as I collect trash and stuff it into my large black bag. Billy has been noticeably absent, and I can’t say that doesn’t make me joyful.
When I’m done and the place is spotless, I jump onto a barstool and pull a notepad and pen toward me. If I’m going to the police about Jenna, I need to have a plan. Recalling all the visions I had,I try to map out where her remains could be; that’s the key. They already found the car, and the cause of her death can be determined with an autopsy. If I want to help Jenna, I need to lead them to her remains.
Closing my eyes, I concentrate on that last image, and that’s when I see the shack off in the distance. It’s hard to tell how big the building is, but it’s at the very least the size of a shed. If there’s a building, there’s likely a house nearby.
I pull up Google Earth and start my search at Olt Forest, where the car was located. Putting myself in the mind of a murderer, it occurs to me that I would separate the body from the car. I also wouldn’t bury the body close to where the abduction happened. I move my mouse away from Knox Harbor, looking for another large plot of wooded land.
It’s starting to feel hopeless with the number of wooded areas in that location. I slump back into my chair, placing my arm over my head, and try to draw any additional details into my head. Nothing happens.
“I could use some help, Jenna.”
I’m about to shut the laptop down when the cursor begins to move on its own, stopping over a wooded location the next town over from Silverton. I lean in to get a good look and the arrow goes haywire, circling around one spot just off County Road A, in the middle of nowhere.
There’s no doubt in my mind—that’s where Jenna’s buried.
I break into breathing exercises, preparing to face Nick. There’s no more waiting around for a stroke of genius to strike, handing me the manual on how to approach my neighbor about tips I’ve received from beyond the grave.
You’ve got this.
I repeat that phrase, acting as my own hype girl.
The walk next door to Nick’s is excruciatingly long despite theshort distance. It’s a rather pleasant night, warm for this time of year, and I use that excuse to take my sweet time traipsing across the yard.
If anyone is witnessing this, they probably think I’ve lost it. My feet can’t possibly shuffle any slower. I might as well have a walker, because even Mrs.Craft moves quicker than this.
I’ve gone over the story so many times that it almost feels like truth. Still, I can’t help but worry that Nick will see right through me, uncovering the parts I’mnotsaying.
He’s a detective. It’s his job to identify and dispel bullshit. He’s heard larger tales from better liars, to be sure. That truth has my legs shaking and perspiration building at my hairline. I stop at the base of his steps, not quite ready to knock on the door.
I contemplate aborting the mission and dealing with a surly ghost for eternity, but I know that isn’t an option.
I can do this.
My hand rises, but before I can make contact with the white wood, the door swings in and I fall forward, landing right into Nick’s strong arms. My right hand is plastered against his washboard stomach. I attempt to remove it, but due to my current position, I only manage to run my palm downward. If the waist of his jeans didn’t slow my roving hand, it would keep heading south to dangerous territory.
My eyes trail up his long torso, and I can’t help but gawk. He’s so tall, easily six foot four, dwarfing me. How have I never realized this before? The false memory of his lips on my neck and hand toying with my nipple infiltrates my mind at the worst moment possible, and I warm from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.
When my gaze lands on Nick’s face, I find him smirking down at me in pure amusement.
For shit’s sake, what am I doing?
