Chapter 9
A loud shrill beeping cut through Polly’s sleep. What the hell was that? It was like a razor blade to her skull.
She grabbed a pillow and shoved it over her head. Nope. That didn’t help.
The pillow hit the bed hard, and she blindly reached for her cell on the side table. Her hand hit the cold screen. She grabbed it and lifted it above her face. At first the screen was blurry. She blinked until the swirls formed words.
Get your ass to yoga!
Yoga?
Shit…yoga. The beeping was her alarm.
She shot up, gaze flicking to the time.
Eight. It was eight and the class started at nine. That was doable. She could make it. Of course she could make it. She just had to wake the heck up and lose the headache.
Good God, why had she drunk her body weight in beer last night?
She stood, and her belly rolled with alcohol-induced nausea.
Regrets. So many regrets.
She’d barely taken a step toward the bathroom when the note on the bedside table caught her attention. The piece of paper sat beside a glass of water and two small pills. There was no way Drunk Polly left those.
She scrunched her nose at the memory of Joel. Of undressing in front of him. Of asking him to hold her while she fell asleep.
Damn you, Drunk Polly.
She lifted the note, and her heart did that thing where it squeezed so tightly she could barely breathe.
Advil and water. And don’t forget to eat, Sunshine.
Sweet. It was really sweet. And thoughtful.
She traced the letters with her gaze for far too long before she jolted. What was she doing? She didn’t have time to obsess over a man’s handwriting and kind gestures.
Quickly, she downed the Advil, took a short shower, and threw on leggings, a sports bra, and sweatshirt. One coffee with two shots later, and she was out of the house. She thought she’d moved pretty quickly, but when she reached the community center it was five to nine and the place was packed.
Crap. She’d wanted to get here early so she could locate and strategically place her mat beside Nancy’s. She didn’t even know who Nancy was.
Maureen looked up from a nearby mat and smiled before coming over. “Polly, dear, you came.”
“I did.” Somehow. “Could you point Nancy out for me?”
“Nancy?”
“I want to give her my condolences.” Big. Fat. Lie.
Maureen frowned like she saw right through her. “She’s just?—”
“All right everyone, let’s start,” a middle-aged woman called from the front.
Maureen patted her shoulder. “It’s time to begin. Find a space for your mat, dear.”
There was no space. But Maureen was already walking away.
Was there etiquette about how close she could put her mat to another? She had no idea. She chose a spot in the back row, offering the middle-aged woman beside her an apologetic smile.
“Sorry, is it okay if I squeeze in here?”
“Of course.” The blond shifted her mat, giving Polly a bit more room.
Polly rolled out her mat. She’d bought this baby about ten years ago, when she’d momentarily thought yoga would solve all her problems. It had solved precisely zero, and the hobby had lasted four weeks and six classes.
The class started, and if Polly had been regretting her night out when her alarm went off, that was nothing compared to now.
Yoga with a hangover was hell. The kind that had her belly rolling and her head aching.
There was one point when everyone did downward dog, and Polly just sat there and watched because even just observing the move made her hungover ass feel sick.
The woman beside her smiled. “First time?”
“Unless a handful of classes a decade ago count, then yes.”
“I remember my first time. I felt like they were trying to make me bend like a pretzel when I was more of a stale baguette. But now look at me. I can’t imagine life without my weekly yoga.” The woman twisted herself into exactly what she’d just described—a pretzel.
How did one get that flexible? Was it just yoga? Part of it had to be genetics, right? One class a week surely wouldn’t get Polly into those positions.
“I’m Nancy, by the way.”
Polly’s gaze shot back to the woman’s face. This was Nancy. This was the woman she’d come here to talk to! And the heavens and Earth had aligned to sit her beside the lady.
The next ten minutes were torture. Not because of the yoga—that was all stretching and actually felt good. But because she had to impatiently wait to talk to Nancy.
Questions skittered through Polly’s brain, all involving Jenna.
The second the lady at the front ended the session, Polly turned to the woman beside her. “Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself, I’m Polly.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Polly. Did you enjoy the class?”
“I did. I think I might come back again. I’m inspired.”
The woman grinned. “That’s great. What inspired you to come to this session?”
She cleared her throat, choosing her next words carefully. “Actually, it was Jenna.”
Nancy paused. “You knew Jenna?”
“She was a customer of mine. She used to talk about how much she loved this class, so I wanted to finally try it. In her memory.” A small white lie.
“You own Bloom?” Nancy’s mouth tilted down. “Jenna was always telling me to go. She would rave about your coffee. She was my best friend.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you. I still can’t believe she’s gone.”
“When was the last time you spoke to her?”
“Well, if you count texting, then…that morning.”
The fine hairs on Polly’s arms stood on end. “Did she say anything? Sorry, I don’t mean to pry, I just…I saw her that morning. She was really pale when she left Bloom, and I…I haven’t been able to get it out of my head.”
Nancy swallowed as she rolled up her mat. “Actually, it was strange. She texted that she was going to be late to work. I work at her pharmacy. She’s never late for work.”
“Do you know where she went?”
“I could barely make sense of her messages. She said there was something important she needed to look into, and she was just running up the hill. I had no idea what hill she was talking about and when I asked, she never texted back. Then she was found in the river.”
The hill? The Connoway mansion was on a hill. And there’d been a photo of it on that phone. And Polly had specifically mentioned it to Maggie that morning.
“I thought she was meeting…”
Polly forced her attention back to Nancy. “You thought she was meeting who?”
“These last few months, I got the feeling she was seeing someone. Although she always denied it.”
“What made you think that?”
“She was on her phone more than usual. Disappeared straight after work without telling me where she was going and wore a bit more makeup.”
“Did you tell Ward?”
Nancy nodded. “I did. He didn’t seem overly interested in any of it.”
“Again, I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.” Nancy stood, yoga mat under her arm. “I just hope they find the killer.”
“Me too.”
Nancy left, and Polly wasn’t too far behind. She rushed outside the community center and had just hit the bottom step when she saw him.
She gasped. “Joel…what are you doing here?” Thoughts of last night tangled in her mind. Of undressing in front of him. Falling asleep on his chest.
Oh, Lord.
He straightened. “You know why I’m here, Sunshine.”
“I actually don’t. And if you don’t mind, I’m in a bit of a rush.” She stepped around him and speed-walked toward her car.
Of course, his mile-long legs easily kept pace with her. “So I guess you learned something from Nancy?”
She spun. “You know about Nancy?”
“You told me in bed last night.”
Damn Drunk Polly and her complete lack of self-restraint. “Yes. I’ve got a lead.”
“I love leads.”
“Um, I don’t think you’ll care to go where I’m going.” She turned and moved toward her car again. If he knew where she was going, he’d either follow her, and she wouldn’t be able to concentrate. Or he’d try to stop her.
Neither option was good.
Joel caught up with Polly in two strides. “Why won’t you tell me where you’re going?”
She rounded the building. “Because I don’t want to.”
“Is it because you know I won’t approve?”
Her eyes flared.
Bingo.
She stopped beside her Subaru. “Bye, Joel.”
Five more strides and he reached the door of his truck.
She stopped, one leg already in her car. “You parked behind me?”
“I had a feeling I’d need to.”
She huffed and dropped behind the wheel of her vehicle.
He just chuckled. That smile on his face was short-lived though, as he started following her out of the main part of the town.
“Where are you going, Sunshine?”
Ten minutes later, she turned onto a dirt road in an isolated part of Deep River. The deeper they drove into the wooded area, the tighter his fingers grew on the wheel. He was damn glad his Glock was in the glove box.
Eventually, Polly pulled up at a big old house.
The fuck? It looked like no one had lived in this house for years. White paint peeled from the warped wood. Most of the shingles were partially hanging off the roof, and the windows were boarded over.
He snapped a photo of the house and sent it to his team, along with a pin of his location.
Joel: Any clue where the hell Polly led me?
Ethan: That’s the old Connoway mansion. It’s been empty for almost thirty years.
Zac: Looks like it too.
Ryan: What tip did she get?
Joel: Don’t know yet. I’ll keep you guys in the loop when I find out.
He grabbed his Glock. Once he was out of the truck, he shoved it into his holster. “What are we doing here, Sunshine?”
Polly closed her door. “Jenna may have come here that morning after she left Bloom. Plus, there was a photo of this house on Eileen’s phone.”
“She was found near Traipse Trailhead, and her car was parked off Dandelion Road.”
“Doesn’t mean she didn’t come here first.” Polly jogged up the steps and tried the door. “Dammit. Locked. If she got inside, how?”
“Sunshine, I think we should leave.”
“You can do whatever you want.”
Yeah, there was no fucking way he was leaving her here by herself. Damn house was probably haunted.
She moved back down the steps and frowned, scanning the exterior before she mumbled to herself. “Back door.”
“Do you know anything about the family who used to live here?” Joel asked as he followed her around, his gaze sweeping over the rotting wood.
“Just that they left in a rush. They were British, and one night they were here, the next they were gone. As far as I know, the family still owns the house and land but has never been back.”
Yeah, because that wasn’t creepy. Why would a family abandon a house and never come back?
They reached the back door and Polly tried the handle. Again, it didn’t move.
She frowned. “Does the lock look newer than the one at the front?”
Joel stepped forward. The knob and the lock looked new. And unlike the front door, there was no dust on this handle.
“And these back windows aren’t boarded.” She moved over to a window and tried to lift it, but it didn’t budge. “Help me.”
He laughed. “Absolutely not. I am not making it easy for you to break and enter.”
Her eyes narrowed as if he’d just given her a challenge. “Lucky for me,” she groaned as she pulled at the wood, “I do not need a man. I can do these things my… self .”
The window creaked open.
Shit.
“Polly, I don’t think this is a good idea?—”
“Then stay here. I’ll tell you what I find.” She lifted herself up and climbed through the window.
Goddammit!
When the soft thud of her feet hitting floorboards sounded, he groaned and followed her, leaping through the window, because what the hell kind of a man would he be to leave her alone inside this house? It even had a creepy fucking story to go with it.
The flashlight on Polly’s phone cast a bit more light through the room. And the smell…what the fuck was that?
“Wow,” she breathed. “It’s so much older than I thought.”
A huge cast-iron stove dominated one wall, the kind that burned wood or coal.
It was rusty, with a layer of dust over it.
The cabinet doors were warped, the porcelain dishes inside just visible.
There were tin canisters labeled Flour and Sugar on the counter, and a deep porcelain sink with cracks and stains.
He ran his finger over the nearest counter, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. “There’s no dust.”
Polly inched beside him. “What?”
“There’s no dust on this counter.” Then he spotted the cup.
A to-go cup from Bloom.
Polly gasped when she saw it.
“Could that be Jenna’s?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Jenna orders a small. That’s a large.”
So someone else had been here. Recently, if the lack of dust was anything to go by.
Out. He needed to get Polly out of here. Every fucking instinct screamed at him that she should not be here, and that gut instinct had saved his ass too many times in the past to question it now. “We’re going.”
“Wait. Just one look.” Polly pushed through the kitchen door and stepped into another room.
Fucking hell.
He followed her. The smell got stronger. Because of the boarded-up windows, Polly’s flashlight was the only light in the room. “Polly?—”
She gasped. “Do you see that?”
He followed her gaze, and a muscle ticked in his jaw.
There was a wide swath where the dust had been wiped away. And his mind immediately went to a body being dragged across these floors.
Polly started following the marks.
“Polly, we need to go.”
“There’s a hatch in the floorboard. Do you see it? Maybe for a cellar or basement. The trail leads there.” She lowered toward the door. It was so flush to the floorboards, if it wasn’t for the trail, they may have missed it.
He gripped her arm and kept her upright. “We’re leaving now .”
“Someone might be in that basement.”
“So I’ll call my team to come check it out.”
“I need to know what’s down there. I’m not turning back now. I owe it to Jenna.”
His jaw clenched. “Then I will open the door. You’ll wait over there.”
She sighed and stepped back.
He pulled the sleeve of his shirt over his hand to avoid leaving prints, then tugged the door open.
He smelled it before he saw it. The scent of rotting bodies, so strong it made his gut roll.
“Oh my God, that’s disgusting. What—” She pointed the flashlight toward the basement floor and gasped.
He cursed and pulled her away.
They’d just reached the kitchen when Polly threw up in the sink over what she’d seen.
Two bodies. Both women. Piled on top of each other like someone had simply dropped them down there.