Chapter 34
CHAPTER
THIRTY-FOUR
They spent that afternoon camped in front of the television, waiting for any mentions of Hannah.
Carla sat on the floor in front of the couch while Jack combed his fingers through her hair, working out the knots.
A brush would’ve been better, but after yesterday’s ordeal, he hardly wanted to ask her to move.
“Can’t believe the hotel manager knows, too,” Carla mused during the commercial break. Onscreen, a man in a brick-red suit gestured to a lot of used cars. “You said he was a dick.”
“He is,” Jack said. He couldn’t meet her eye. “But he’s helped me out a few times. I don’t hate him.”
She really, really didn’t need to know much he didn’t hate him.
“You must not. He slept in your bed.”
“I didn’t know what else to do,” Jack said, tugging gently at a particularly stubborn tangle. “I thought he was gonna die.”
“Wonder if there’s any connection to that lady he saw.”
“He said it didn’t feel like a dream,” Jack mused. He said I felt like a dream.
“Maybe it wasn’t.”
“What else would it be?”
“Dunno. Maybe something connected to all this.”
“Did you ever see her?”
Carla shook her head. “No. Honestly, I’m more interested in his sudden deterioration. How’d he get so sick?”
“I have a theory,” said Jack, suddenly nervous.
His suggestions at work, no matter how small, were usually met with stunned silence and confusion, but he knew better than to keep this to himself.
If it might help, then it needed to be voiced.
“I think we’re still affected by things that happen during the time loop. ”
“What do you mean?” demanded Carla, turning to face him.
“We’ve been stuck like this for over a month, right? As far as we know. And the whole time, Boris hasn’t been eating or sleeping or drinking water. I think those things still impact us.”
“The fuck do you mean?” Carla growled. “I died, Jack. If anything had a lasting effect, I would know.”
“But you didn’t die every day. Maybe it’s just things that happen consistently.”
“That’s a shitty theory.”
“Ouch,” said Jack, leaning back against the cushions. “It’s just a thought.”
“It doesn’t make sense.”
“Yeah, but why are we fine when Boris isn’t?”
“Maybe his lady is sucking his soul every night.”
Jack dragged his fingers through his hair. “But he hasn’t been sleeping.”
“Maybe it doesn’t matter.”
“Yeah,” he said, just as the newscaster appeared again, wearing a serious face and a tan suit. “Maybe.”
Hannah was missing again. Alongside her, another couple.
Denise and Charles Swenson vanished in the night and were discovered missing by their two teenaged children.
Authorities determined from the bloodstains throughout the home that the couple were most likely assaulted in their bed, attacked by either their own children or a particularly crafty intruder.
Neither was for certain.
The details of Hannah’s disappearance remained exactly the same. Her husband offered nothing new in his interview. Camera footage showed search parties combing through the wilderness and finding nothing.
A knot of despair formed in Jack’s throat. He sat back against the couch, knees folded against his chest. Below him, Carla was silent, eyes glued to the screen.
“Blood,” she said when the segment ended. “Both scenes are bloody.”
“Yeah,” said Jack in half-hearted agreement. Lots of disappearances involved violent crime. But it was strange when three people disappeared in the same day, leaving nothing but splatters of blood in their wake.
“They left their family members behind,” said Carla, tilting her head back to meet Jack’s eye.
Even with her smudged makeup and wild tangles, she was lovely.
He fought the urge to press his lips to her forehead, to trail his fingers through her hair.
But they couldn’t afford to get distracted right now.
Not when they were so close to finding answers.
“And they’re all suspects. What do you make of that? ”
“Misfortune?”
“You think they did it?” Something dark and angry glinted in her eye. “You think someone made them do it?”
A shiver bolted down Jack’s spine, left him cold and shattered. “I fucking hope not.”
She groaned, jumped to her feet, and began pacing again. “There’s something we’re missing.”
Jack nodded. “What were you saying about investigating Enzo?”