Chapter 4
MAEVE
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
The sound is like nails down a chalkboard. My brain convulses, throbbing against the inside of my skull.
Why did I have to drink so much last night? Not my finest of hours, to that I’ll admit.
I groan. “Teddy . . . stop.”
Another tap. Of course he doesn’t listen.
I roll over in bed, my head pounding, my stomach churning, and let out a long exhale. I squint through one eye towards the window, where a breeze wafts in, carrying the scent of rain, and sending the heavy blinds scraping against the old timber frame.
Well, that explains the tapping noise. Teddy is off the hook, for now.
Although . . .
I frown, rubbing my forehead. I never opened the window . . . unless I did.
No. I might have been drunk, but I’m not stupid. There’s a serial killer on the loose and I live in the middle of nowhere. I’m a sitting duck.
A very weak duck. Weak and hungover, and full of regret. Why I thought writing myself off last night was a good idea is beyond me. Where’s my self-control? Non-existent it seems.
Dr. Hendry’s death couldn’t have come at a worse time. When the news broke, I couldn’t stop from shaking. Alcohol seemed the best option. And now look at me. I’m a bloody wreck, and my life is turning into a giant shitstorm, one I have no idea how to dig my way out of.
Arms shaking, I force myself into a sitting position, my head protesting with each movement as images of last night filter into my swollen brain.
The bar.
The music.
Hazel eyes, sharp and predatory. Caleb Blackwood. His name swirls around my mind like smoke.
I should be focusing on Dr. Hendry’s murder, but all I can think about is the way Caleb looked at me. Like he was assessing the inside of my mind. Like he saw something he liked but knew better than to touch.
That’s what I remember most. Not his dismissive tone from the clinic, but something darker. Maybe it’s just the vodka muddling my memories. Either way, I can’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t quite right with him last night.
At least he was chivalrous enough not to leave me stranded and drunk in a run-down bar. Doesn’t mean I like him, though.
I also don’t like the fact he’s so alluring—that face, all stubbled jaw, and high cheekbones.
Seriously? The universe is just taunting me at this point. He really is something else to look at. The way he carries himself, with that air of danger surrounding him. Instead of being a deterrent, it’s more like a magnet. A magnet for stupid, desperate women like me.
Groaning, I press my fingers into my temples and swing my legs over the edge of the bed, planting my bare feet on the cold hardwood floor. The room spins slightly, so I take a few deep breaths to gain my composure.
The air is thick with the faint scent of cologne, rain, and something else. The blinds slam against the timber again, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up.
Was Caleb in my room? It’s logical considering I don’t remember anything after leaving the bar.
A creak from the hallway makes me freeze. “Hello?” I call out, listening for any sign I’m not alone.
But all I get is silence, and the pounding of my pulse in my ears. It’s probably just the wind. Or my confused brain.
Still, the unease creeps in, coiling in my chest like a warning.
I rub at the centre of my breastbone and force myself onto unsteady legs. I can’t afford to crumble now. Bethany deserves better, and so do the kids who never escaped the grip of the orphanage. They deserve someone who won’t stop until the truth comes out.
That place should have been a sanctuary for children like me but was instead a den of nightmares. The cold, damp concrete walls they would lock us in when we ‘misbehaved’ hold a special place in my memories. At least the ones I do have.
I remember those parts all too vividly, even after ten years.
The musty smell of mildew and despair. The constant gnawing hunger in our bellies.
But it’s the people who worked there that haunt me the most. Which is why I need to pull it together. I can’t lie around in bed all day feeling sorry for myself.
After the news of Dr. Hendry’s death broke, Holloway will be wanting an update, one I can’t give him just yet.
My theories are just that—theories. And until I can interview someone who’s still breathing, or find out who the killer is, the murders will remain unsolved.
Besides, no-one else is going to take on this clusterfuck of a case. Hell, the police don’t have any leads, records from the orphanage miraculously disappearing years ago when the place shut down. All they’ve got to say is there’s a potential serial killer prowling the streets of Thornhaven, so please lock your doors at night.
Like that’d do any good.
If I thought it’d help, I’d hand over my files. Though, I’m sure they’d be used to wipe arses and not solve cases.
I know better than to trust law enforcement with anything, especially in this town. Deep pockets fund their blind eyes, which leaves only one person I can trust.
Myself.
I shuffle to the bathroom, wincing at my reflection in the mirror. Bloodshot eyes, tangled hair, and pale skin that speaks of too much alcohol and not enough sleep. My mouth tastes like acid, and my skull pulses with every beat of my heart, a relentless hammer pounding against bone.
I suck in a breath, and splash cold water on my face, the shock of it bringing me back into my body.
And where the hell is that dog of mine? He’s probably off sulking because I didn’t feed him last night. After all, he is a little dramatic sometimes. Best I go apologise with his favourite liver treat.
I finish cleaning up and head out into the hallway.
“Teddy, baby. Come to Mumma.” I slap my thighs, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips as I wait for the sound of Teddy’s heavy panting.
Silence.
Any moment now, buddy.
Seconds pass, and there’s still no patter of his little claws on the floorboards.
“Teddy? Where are you, boy?” I frown as I tiptoe down the hallway.
It’d just be my luck he’s gotten into something he shouldn’t have. That time he scoffed down half a bag of liver treats, then spewed them all up over the cream rug in the living room an hour later. God the stench . . . it hung around for days as though it had become a permanent fixture.
I whistle when I reach the open entrance to the kitchen. “Teddy, come boy.”
Nothing. Just more silence, the drip, drip, drip of the tap on the sink matching my skyrocketing heart rate.
Where the hell is he?
I take off, stumbling through the house, calling Teddy’s name. The floorboards creak under my bare feet, each step echoing in the emptiness.
He’s not here. He’s not anywhere. He wouldn’t run away. At least I don’t think he would.
Oh god, what if he got out when Caleb dropped me home, and now he’s lost somewhere in the forest crying out for me.
I need to find him.
I race back into the kitchen, my breathing laboured. A sharp pain stabs at the centre of my chest, and I stumble forward.
The scent of something sweet lingers in the air. It’s out of place, like a nail in the centre of a wooden staircase. How did I not notice this before?
I step around the island, my foot nudging against something soft. Plush, like a blanket. Slowly, I look down.
My lungs forget how to work.
My baby.
He’s crumpled on the floor like a discarded rag doll, fur too still, too silent.
“Teddy!” My knees hit the tiles hard, but I barely feel it. “What’s happened, boy? What have you done?” My hands shake as I stroke his fur, his tiny chest barely moving, each breath shallow and uneven. “Oh god, no. No, no, no.” The words spill from me in a choked sob, my vision blurring as I scoop him into my arms and cradle him to my chest.
He’s so limp and fragile, I fear I might break him.
The silence presses in, broken only by Teddy’s strained breathing. Shadows stretch, shifting where they shouldn’t. Something isn’t right.
But there’s no time to contemplate what any of that means. My baby is dying.
I snatch my handbag from the counter, and rush out the door. The early morning air is crisp against my feverish skin as my feet carry me to my car, Teddy cradled against my chest. His shallow breaths tickle the skin on my neck, and my hands shake as I unlock the door and climb in, placing Teddy down on the passenger seat.
It’s only 6:43 a.m. Is the veterinary clinic even open yet? Damn it. There’s no animal hospital nearby, so I have no other option. If only I had Caleb’s personal number.
Shit.
Doesn’t matter, I have to try.
My hand trembling, I start the car and speed out onto the empty road. Why do I have to live so far outside of town?
I pat Teddy’s soft head, throwing him a quick glance. “It’s okay, baby. Mumma is going to get you some help, just hold on.”
A corner comes up on me, and I veer the car around the bend too fast. The car’s tyres screech as they regain traction, pulling me back into the lane. Rain smears the windshield, my heart pounding in time with the urgent swiping of the wipers.
Teddy whimpers, barely audible. I swipe at my tears.
Faster. I must go faster.
“We’re almost there, Teddy. Just a little longer,” I whisper, my voice cracking.
He can’t die. He’s all I have. My only constant in a world full of nightmares. If I lose him, I lose the last flicker of light in my life.
First Bethany, now Teddy.
The town comes into view, its streets sleepy and deserted. I take another corner too fast, almost losing it into a streetlamp this time, but I don’t care about the car. All that matters is getting Teddy the help he needs.
The clinic comes into view, and I speed towards it, the darkness inside showing no sign of life. But then Caleb’s black Charger comes into view, and the relief that washes through me is almost instant.
For someone so confusing, he’s sure committed to his job.
I screech to a halt in front of the small building, shut the engine off, and scoop Teddy into my arms. The door creaks on its hinges as I throw it open, and rush for the clinic door.
I don’t care if Caleb throws me out like he did two days ago. He’s the only one who can save Teddy.
I slam my fist against the door.
Bang.
Bang.
Over and over, until my knuckles ache. I don’t stop. I can’t. If I stop, it means I’ve already lost him.
My breath comes out in hysterical sobs.
Another bang. The glass rattles.
Please, please, please.
A light flickers on inside.
I press my forehead against the cool glass, my knees giving out beneath me.
“Help him,” I whisper. “Please.”