Page 36 of Elsie's Strong Shelter

Calvin glanced over his shoulder. “Here we go.”

He tried the knob, which turned without issue, and pushed open the door.

“Hello?” Calvin yelled into the house. “Anyone home?”

Darkness and a wave of stale air greeted them. An unknown odor assaulted her. She covered her mouth and nose with her hand as she stepped inside. “Doesn’t look like anyone’s been here in a while by that smell. Either that, or whoever lives here doesn’t care about how much it stinks.”

Both men armed themselves, Calvin training his gun in front of him while Dean kept his pointed toward the floor.

Bile sloshed in her stomach. “What is it?” Alarm tightened her muscles. A sense of dread loomed over her. A million questions danced in her head, but she didn’t dare speak. Didn’t dare move.

“Try not to touch anything,” Dean said. “We’ll clear the house, okay? Just like last night at your place.”

An image of the knife plunged in her pillow flashed in her brain. Something told her what they’d find in this house would be much worse.

“I looked at the layout before we got here. It’s pretty basic,” Calvin said. “We’re in the only living area. A small kitchen is on the other side, and this hall leads to one bedroom and a single bath.”

“I’ll head down the hall,” Dean said. “Be alert.”

Calvin peeled off to the left, she and Dean walked straight ahead. Her body jumped at every sound, her mind envisioning what they’d find behind each closed door.

Please don’t be Mila.

Pushing open the first door revealed a small bathroom. Dean flipped on the light. A rusted tub was visible, the moldy curtain shoved to the side. A pedestal sink stood beside the toilet. Dean tensed and took another step inside.

She glanced around the space until her gaze landed on the sink. “Oh my God. Is that blood?” Red streaks stained the white porcelain, splattering the floor.

“Looks like it.” Dean searched inside the slim linen closet then ushered her back to the hall. “Found blood in the bathroom,” he yelled to Calvin then faced her. “You okay?”

Her mouth went dry, but she nodded. “Keep going.”

He studied her for a beat, as if wanting to make sure she was telling the truth. Without another word, he turned to the last door and shoved it open.

The offensive smell of blood and death slid against her. Dread curdled in her belly. She held her breath and fought not to squeeze her eyes shut. An unmade bed was shoved to the corner and clothing spilled from an open dresser drawer.

A crumpled body with a pool of blood beneath lay in the middle of the room.

Instinct shiftedDean to block Elsie’s view of the body. Adrenaline shot through his veins. He didn’t know what he expected to find, but it definitely wasn’t a homicide.

“Oh my God, is it Mila?” Elsie shrieked. She pushed against his chest, trying to shove past him. “I have to see. I have to make sure it’s not her.”

Dean grabbed her arms and rooted her in place. He dipped his chin to stare her in the eyes. “Hey. Look at me.”

She stilled, her breath heaving from her body in ragged spurts.

“That’s not Mila, but I need to figure out who it is and make sure whoever killed him isn’t still here.”

Her head bobbed up and down, but her eyes remained wide and filled with fear.

“I want you to turn around and face the hallway while I double check the rest of the room. You don’t need to see this, okay?” He kept his voice low and calm as if speaking to a frightened animal.

“Okay.” Slowly, she spun around. Tremors ran through her body and the sound of her teeth chattering cut through the silence of the room.

He struggled not to wrap his arms around her, but after the morning they’d had, he doubted she wanted his comfort. Notto mention there were more important things to see to at the moment. Tiptoeing around the body, he noted thick, dark blood dried around a gaping wound at the side of the man’s head—a headful of ginger-colored hair. He was careful not to disturb the scene as he made sure no other surprises waited in the room.

“Holy shit,” Calvin said. “What happened here?”

Dean crossed back to Elsie’s side. He tentatively pressed his fingers to her back, urging her into the narrow hall. “Looks like Malcom Miller’s dead. Let’s go outside and call it in.”

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