Page 66 of Grave Obsession

Victoria:

Bitch, you read my mind.

I was going to ask you the same

thing at work tomorrow.

Mallory:

Aww, you do love me!

Victoria:

Shut up.

Mallory:

*hugs*

Victoria:

*Runs away screaming.*

Her reply makes me laugh and I’m excited to see her outside of work. We haven’t hung out in a while. Maybe she can give me some perspective on why Nox won’t "go all the way" with me. Right now I’m just convinced he is disfigured or something terrible is hiding beneath his clothing. I don’t think anything he could show me would have me running for the hills. I’m pretty sure that I’m all in, no matter what it is. Could this be what he wants my forgiveness on? Will he apologize for hiding whatever this is from me?

I pick up the book Ghost gifted me about a masked stalker and then plop it back down on the stack. If he doesn’t want to see me, then I don’t want to read a book that will remind me of him. My feet slap against the cold hardwood floors as I stomp across the hallway to the mini library. I swing the door open and am assaulted by the chilly air in this room. The sheer black curtains billow as the air from the swinging door moves through the room. The window is open and I’m immediately on alert. I swear I locked that window the other day.

I pull down on the frame, closing it. I click the latch into place and pull up. The window doesn’t budge, doesn’t reopen or even shift at all. The lock isn’t broken. I must have opened it and just can’t remember…right? Ghost has my spare key, he doesn’t need to climb through my window anymore...unless he wants to.

Shaking the confusing thoughts from my head, I peruse my shelves. I find one of my favourites and head back to bed. Snuggling down with my black fuzzy blanket that now only faintly smells like Ghost. I lose myself in a story of a girl who is running from her past and finds herself stranded in a spooky lighthouse with a hot Italian man and a creepy-as-shit lightkeeper.

Chapter Forty-Seven

Graves

Once again, I’m greeted by Santa’s twin as I pull into the mill. This time he thankfully recognizes me and we can skip the rigamarole of me showing him my badge.

“Anything of note out here?” I ask.

“Not this time, Officer Graves. One of your men did a thorough sweep of the area and nothing was tagged for evidence collection.” He hangs his thumbs in his belt loops and rocks back and forth on his heels.

“Okay, thanks.” I tip my hat to him and he returns the gesture.

Dreading what I’ll witness when I cross the threshold into the mill's interior, I take a lap around the building for myself, psyching myself up. I’m happy I did, otherwise this boot print would have gone unnoticed. It’s in the mud on the far side of the mill, a few paces away from the back door. In comparison to my boots, it’s slightly smaller, probably a size ten, maybe a nine and a half. I pull out my radio and call Smith to my location, telling him to bring the evidence tags and camera with him.

“Sgt. Jefferds is here, would you like him to accompany me?” Smith crackles through radio speakers.

“Can he assist you in pouring a cast of the impression?”

“Yes, sir,” he replies.

“Then bring him.” I impatiently wait for the duo to round the corner. The longer I wait, the more I wonder why there is only one boot print, and… Why here? There are no others around and this faces off towards the creek. Is this another distraction like Mallory claimed the purse to be?

Finally Smith and Jefferds appear. Smith is shaking the casting solution as Jefferds inspects and clears away debris from the print. They set up the area while I watch them like a hawk. They better not fuck this up. Once I’m satisfied with their work, I turn and head into the mill from the back door.

The scene I’m met with matches the others before it, excluding Melissa. A dark haired female is hanging from a noose that is secured to the same support beam as before. My blood runs cold as I see the message my uncle was referring to. "Soon" is jaggedly carved into the victim’s abdomen.

“Why is she still up there? Please tell me you weren’t waiting on me,” I say.

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