Page 91 of Racing Hearts

“I do not growl.” I frown, but he just arches his eyebrow. I slide into my seat, sulking. “Fine, I’ll be quiet.”

“Good boy. If you behave, I’ll play with you later.” He pats my thigh and gets out. Jumping out, I grab his hand and walk with him. He rings the doorbell as we stand on the welcome mat on the porch.

“Coming, one second!” a distinctively female voice calls. Two minutes later, a harried, smiling woman opens the door. Her smile fades, and she tilts her head as she looks at us. She’s a few years older than us, with frizzy brown hair, pretty eyes, and a nice smile. She’s small and seems to shrink before us, clearly anxious.

“Clarissa Wright?” Evan asks kindly, offering her a dazzling smile that makes her blink as she stares at him.

She looks between us in confusion. “Yes, who are you? I wasn’t expecting visitors.”

“We go to Pine Valley.” All color drains from her face, and she goes to shut the door, but I wedge my foot in it.

“Please, just talk to us,” Evan pleads as she continues to struggle to shut the door.

“I have nothing to say.” She uses all her weight to try and close it.

“There have been two more murders,” I tell her bluntly.

She freezes, her wide, shocked eyes landing on me.

“If you haven’t seen anything yet, you will soon. They are saying it’s suicide, but we know it isn’t, and you know it too. We need to talk.”

“I can’t, please go,” she begs, tears forming in her eyes. “If it’s happening again—” She shakes her head, terror etched into her features.

“Clarissa, please,” Evan implores, giving her his best sad puppy eyes. “Someone we care about is in danger, please.”

She looks from me to him.

There’s a gurgling noise in the background, and her head jerks around for a moment before she looks us over, her eyes lingering on Evan as if she’s scared to look at me. She purses her lips.

“We aren’t taking no for an answer,” I tell her as kindly as I can.

Sighing, she glances over her shoulder again. “Don’t worry, Dad, it’s just some friends,” she calls and opens the door. “Fine, come in.” She wraps her arms around herself, and we step into the warm hallway. There are family pictures on every wall, and it’s clear it’s a house full of love. To the right is a living room with a man in a bed facing a TV. He has an oxygen mask on his face, and he’s skin and bones.

That same gurgling noise comes again, his eyes widening on us as he hits the remote for the TV.

“Don’t worry, everything is fine,” she tells him, forcing a smile and turning to us as he makes another noise, hitting the remote again.

“Come in here. I don’t want to disturb my father. He’s sick as it is. He doesn’t need this.”

She jerks her head, and we follow her down the hall, away from the living room and into a tiny kitchen with a ramp in it. She leans back against the counter, looking out of the sliding back door to a small, rear garden.

“I guess I knew this would happen.” She sighs and looks at us then nods at the small round table. “Sit.”

We do, our hands interlaced under the table.

“Do you want drinks?” she asks kindly.

“No, thank you, Clarissa. I’m sorry. I know it was a long time ago—” Evan starts.

“Not long enough. No number of years could make me forget what happened at Pine Valley,” she says as she sits opposite us, her shoulders rounded.

“Clarissa, what happened?” Evan asks softly. “Why did you leave Pine Valley? Why did you say you didn’t feel safe?”

“Because I didn’t.” She looks at her hands. “I left for that same reason. I knew if I stayed, I would have ended up dead.” She sits back heavily, her eyes on us. “You said there were some deaths? Guys, right? Made to look like suicide?”

We share a look and nod.

“Then it’s happening again. I guess I hoped it was over when I left. I should have known better.” She laughs bitterly, rubbing her face.

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