Page 40 of The Engagement Party

Sierra lifted her head and looked at Mitch. “How did you know the lights would work?”

“I didn’t.” He sounded stunned. “It was habit. I go into a garage or whatever and see a string and assume it’s a light and pull it.”

That made sense... or did it?Ruthie was struggling to decide when she heard Sierra’s sharp intake of breath.

“What is that?” Sierra asked.

The shed turned out to be part workshop and part storage. The blood smears formed a path inside. A battered rowboat laid on its side on the dusty floor to the left. There was a workbench with a few tools on the right. The basic stuff, like a screwdriver and hammer. Directly in front of them was a longer table, maybe six or seven feet. A large mass sat on top of it wrapped in a blue tarp.

“Animal?” Will asked but didn’t sound confident of his guess this time.

Ruthie wanted to blame the panic bubbling inside her, but she thought she saw the outline of legs under there. Human legs. The size looked off, as if the legs had been tucked or placed intoa fetal position. She hated all of those options, so she focused on the most innocent explanation she could think of. Supplies. A pile of house or boating supplies.

“Not an animal.” Mitch stepped into the doorway and faced them. “You all should go back to the house. I’ll handle this.”

Ruthie refused to give in. “I have a hundred questions about why this light works and whatever that is.” Ruthie pointed at the tarp. “The blood...”

Blood.The horrors fell like dominoes. One careening into the next.

“It’s a body.” Sierra didn’t ask. She sounded shaky but sure as she gave voice to what they all suspected.

“Someone moved Tyler?” But Ruthie doubted the words as she said them.

“It has to be, though that won’t make any of this better.” Still pale but with a stronger voice, Sierra took a deep breath. “We need to know.”

“We need to get the hell off this island,” Mitch said.

Ruthie agreed with him. She thought that hours ago. Leave. Swim. Scream. Anything.

Sierra walked past Mitch but kept her hand on his arm as she moved toward the table. The bright light showed off the soaked-in patch of red on her knee. Blood stained her khakis and arms, even her hands, as if she’d rolled in it.

I can’t do this anymore. Ruthie wanted to call Sierra back. They could grab that boat and get out of here. The lightning and thunder had stopped. If Ruthie had believed running would let her put all of this behind her and go back to the person she was even a year ago, she might have tried. Might have begged Sierra, the one innocent party in all of this, to escape.

Mitch and Sierra held hands as they glanced around the shed. With a nod from Mitch, they approached the tarp, tiptoeing around the pools of blood, and let go of each other to stand on opposite sides of the table. Bungee cords held the material on, binding the object into a shape that mimicked a folded body.

Tyler’s killer wanted to torture them. Move the dead body around, keep them guessing. Every confusing move chipped away at their feeling of security until they doubted and bickered. Ruthie’s skin itched at the thought of a killer watching them even now, plotting and wallowing in their fear.

Sierra clenched and unclenched her hands at her sides before unfastening the end of the cord on her side. She and Mitch shared a look before they loosened the binding and freed the tarp. Mitch pulled it back.

A head rolled off the table and onto the floor.

Human. Very human.

Sierra tried to take a step back but in the small space fell against the workbench. A second later she doubled over again and dry heaved.

Ruthie watched the horror unfold and grabbed the door for support. A body on his back with legs curled to one side. A hole in his chest. Not the same clothes as the guy in the trunk. And the head. Ruthie didn’t look at it as she silently begged the universe for forgiveness for starting all of this.Please let that be a mannequin or... anything but a headless human being.

The sound of Sierra’s retching filled the small room. The horrid noise touched off Ruthie’s gag reflex.

All of the color left Mitch’s face as he stared at the floor. Focused on the closed eyes and matted hair. “Son of a bitch.”

“Please...” Will sounded unsteady. “T-tell me that’s not a person.”

“Not anymore.” Mitch visibly inhaled as he reached for something tucked into the pocket of the guy’s shirt. Ruthie didn’t realize it was another note until Mitch turned the paper around for them to read it.

tick tock

Ruthie almost screamed again when Mitch crouched down to take a closer look at the head. “What are you doing?”

---