heaved in and out as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. It was just a nightmare. Calm down. You remember what she looked like. You can never forget. No matter how hard you try, you will always remember her.
Marshall looked over at his clock. It was still early, but he decided to get up anyway. Apparently a restful night’s sleep wasn’t in the stars. Today he needed answers and he had a feeling it would take a full day to get them. Shower, another bowl of sugary cereal for breakfast, and a mental note that he needed to go grocery shopping took all of thirty minutes. He took his roommate outside for a short walk that seemed like it was more sniffing and peeing than actual walking, and he was ready to go.
Marshall planned on visiting Samantha’s grandfather first. The old man knew more, and Marshall thought that with the right push, he could get the geezer to spill the beans. If that failed, he could always go to Samantha, and even his boss.
Diane’s cryptic behavior and her choice of words made it all but certain she knew more than she let on. What about Lieutenant Lloyd? If he was a relative of the founding family, it was possible he might know something as well. He might even know something more about Barbara. Thinking about her brought back the dream he had all but forgotten.
The ways that his sister and Barbara had died were so similar. But his sister’s body hadn’t been drained of blood and it was found nowhere near the canyon. It was a stupid coincidence and not worth thinking about. Instead, he gunned the engine and sped through the traffic toward the old man’s house and the answers he needed.
Marshall pulled up to the ancient house and parked on the side of the road. He slammed the door behind him, not caring if the old man heard him or not. The small fence was without a lock. Marshall opened and closed it behind him. He scanned the front porch, this time making sure the old man didn’t get a jump on him.
His sneakers made short work of the few yards between him and the house and he was soon raising a balled fist to knock on the screen door. It was a cool morning and Marshall was grateful he had decided on jeans and long sleeved dark hoodie.
As Marshall expected, no one came to the door. Marshall knocked again and again. “Hello? It’s me, Marshall. I know you’re in there. Might as well open the door. I’m not going anywhere.”
A few seconds of silence, then the doorknob slowly turned and the door creaked open, revealing the old man’s familiar scowling face. “What do you want? I told you I don’t know anything.”
“And you’re lying.”
His bushy eyebrows shot up, clearly surprised with Marshall’s boldness. “Lying or not, I have nothing to say to you. Now get off my property.”
Marshall was quickly losing his window of opportunity. He needed to get the old man on his side. Forcing him was going to get him nowhere. His age made him much too stubborn and hard headed for that. Marshall needed to think quickly.
“How old is your granddaughter?”
His expression went from one of contempt and frustration to anger. “You leave her out of this. If I—”
“How old is she? Twenty-one? Twenty-two? Not that much older than Barbara Summers, the girl that was found dead in the street just a few days ago.”
The old man bit his tongue as he realized where Marshall was directing the conversation. Marshall took the old man’s silence as an opportunity to push the subject, hoping he was making headway. “Think about that girl’s family. What if they could provide you with answers and they refused because they were too scared.”
“I’m not scared, boy. Don’t mistake caution and patience for fear.”
“Well, whatever it is, now is the time to act. You have the power to help her family bring closure to her death.” Marshall clenched his jaw. He was still unwilling to talk about his sister.
Samantha’s grandfather seemed to weigh Marshall’s determination. “You’re not
Marshall looked over at his clock. It was still early, but he decided to get up anyway. Apparently a restful night’s sleep wasn’t in the stars. Today he needed answers and he had a feeling it would take a full day to get them. Shower, another bowl of sugary cereal for breakfast, and a mental note that he needed to go grocery shopping took all of thirty minutes. He took his roommate outside for a short walk that seemed like it was more sniffing and peeing than actual walking, and he was ready to go.
Marshall planned on visiting Samantha’s grandfather first. The old man knew more, and Marshall thought that with the right push, he could get the geezer to spill the beans. If that failed, he could always go to Samantha, and even his boss.
Diane’s cryptic behavior and her choice of words made it all but certain she knew more than she let on. What about Lieutenant Lloyd? If he was a relative of the founding family, it was possible he might know something as well. He might even know something more about Barbara. Thinking about her brought back the dream he had all but forgotten.
The ways that his sister and Barbara had died were so similar. But his sister’s body hadn’t been drained of blood and it was found nowhere near the canyon. It was a stupid coincidence and not worth thinking about. Instead, he gunned the engine and sped through the traffic toward the old man’s house and the answers he needed.
Marshall pulled up to the ancient house and parked on the side of the road. He slammed the door behind him, not caring if the old man heard him or not. The small fence was without a lock. Marshall opened and closed it behind him. He scanned the front porch, this time making sure the old man didn’t get a jump on him.
His sneakers made short work of the few yards between him and the house and he was soon raising a balled fist to knock on the screen door. It was a cool morning and Marshall was grateful he had decided on jeans and long sleeved dark hoodie.
As Marshall expected, no one came to the door. Marshall knocked again and again. “Hello? It’s me, Marshall. I know you’re in there. Might as well open the door. I’m not going anywhere.”
A few seconds of silence, then the doorknob slowly turned and the door creaked open, revealing the old man’s familiar scowling face. “What do you want? I told you I don’t know anything.”
“And you’re lying.”
His bushy eyebrows shot up, clearly surprised with Marshall’s boldness. “Lying or not, I have nothing to say to you. Now get off my property.”
Marshall was quickly losing his window of opportunity. He needed to get the old man on his side. Forcing him was going to get him nowhere. His age made him much too stubborn and hard headed for that. Marshall needed to think quickly.
“How old is your granddaughter?”
His expression went from one of contempt and frustration to anger. “You leave her out of this. If I—”
“How old is she? Twenty-one? Twenty-two? Not that much older than Barbara Summers, the girl that was found dead in the street just a few days ago.”
The old man bit his tongue as he realized where Marshall was directing the conversation. Marshall took the old man’s silence as an opportunity to push the subject, hoping he was making headway. “Think about that girl’s family. What if they could provide you with answers and they refused because they were too scared.”
“I’m not scared, boy. Don’t mistake caution and patience for fear.”
“Well, whatever it is, now is the time to act. You have the power to help her family bring closure to her death.” Marshall clenched his jaw. He was still unwilling to talk about his sister.
Samantha’s grandfather seemed to weigh Marshall’s determination. “You’re not
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