Page 88 of Buried Beneath Sin

“What is it?” Beatrix asks. Her eyes search my face as I put the box back on the table.

“Is there a reason you’re trying to spoil dinner?” I ask Sagan who stomps away from the table over to the plate left out for him.

“Ididn’t spoil dinner. Someone else is trying to.”

My brows furrow as I try to understand what he’s suggesting. “You didn’t pluck those out of someone?”

“The only bodies I’ve been around recently are the ones I’ve delivered to the funeral home,” he says. “Those don’t belong to any of the ones I’ve brought in.”

“By the sound of it, I’m guessing there are body parts on the table. Gross,” Beatrix mutters. She sighs and climbs out from under the table. “That’s my cue to start dishes.”

As my stepsister rises from the floor, she grabs my plate. Knox jumps up to his feet next.

“I’ll help,” he offers.

I ignore the two of them as Sagan grabs a fork off the counter and starts eating at the island.

“Where did you find these?” I ask him.

“They were sitting in the mailbox. There’s no name, no return address, nothing.”

My stomach tightens. “Beatrix, are you prone to receiving decaying eyeballs in the mail as a joke?”

My stepsister looks over her shoulder as she carries the plates to the sink. The surprise on her face answers my question before she speaks.

“Ah, no. Dog and cow poop back in high school were pretty common things to be left on the front porch, but body parts? No.” As she stands there, Knox scoots around her to beat her to the sink with his plate. “Why are there eyeballs in the mailbox, guys?”

I don’t know the answer to her question. Leaning forward, I snatch the box back up and open it again. The eyes are so deformed, I can’t tell what animal they’re from.

“We should report these to the police,” I mutter.

“Or we could keep a close watch on the house and let whoever did it do it again, and we’ll take care of it,” Sagan suggests with a mouth full of food.

The thought makes me smile. If there are kids coming up here to harass Beatrix or her company, they’re in for a big surprise when they find out we don’t spook easily.

“Please don’t kill teenagers who are just trying to have a little fun,” Beatrix pleads. “As morbid as that fun is.”

Both Sagan and I chuckle. We can’t keep killing here in town, so that’s not even an option. But there are other ways to scare people, teenagers in this instance, into never bothering us again.

I look up just in time to see her reach up to place a hand right in the middle of Knox’s back while she comes up beside him at the sink. There’s no time for me to react or call out in warning. When triggered, Knox can move like lightning. This time is no different.

“Knox,NO!” I roar as I leap to my feet.

He twists to face her, one hand going behind him to pull out his knife at the same time he grabs the front of her dress. He yanks my stepsister toward him and she gasps. That’s all the reaction she gets out before the blade swipes across her neck. He roars as he lifts the blade up to strike again.

My heart seizes. Before I can take a step, Sagan lunges for both of them. He grabs the collar of Knox’s shirt and yanks him back, away from our sister. Knox fights him.

“Get off me!” Knox shouts.

Sagan tackles him to the ground. Over the scuffling, I catch the sound of a knife hitting the floor and sliding away. Beatrix stumbles backward, her hand going to her throat. I’m at her side in five long strides. With my heart slamming against my chest, I grab her other wrist and spin her around. Her wide eyes meet mine and hold a host of fear.

“Let me see,” I order through clenched teeth.

“I-I’m fine,” she stammers out even though tears begin to leak from the corners of her eyes. Her shaking hand drops away from her throat.

There, just starting to bleed, is a thin red line that stretches from ear to ear just beneath her jaw. It’s a shallow cut, letting me know Knox had the wherewithal in his fit of panic and rage to be careful. The heavy sigh I let out is full of relief. I frown at the intensity of it. My fondness for my stepsister runs deeper than I could’ve imagined.

“You might have a small scar once it heals, but it’ll fade quickly,” I assure her.

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