Page 35 of Grave Possession

“Victoria,” I groan.

“I’m kidding, of course I can. I was out hunting with my dad as soon as I could hold my head up, strapped into a carrier on his chest.”

“Good enough for me,” I reply, pulling my 9mm from its holster. I drop the mag to double check it, then slide it back in, handing it to her. “Be safe and be aware. I know it’ll be hard, but try.” I instruct.

She clicks the safety off, cocks a round in the chamber, then looks back to me. “Okay, okay. Now, go.”

Nodding, I turn back to the door.

“Lennox?”

“Yeah,” I say, hand hovering over the door knob.

“I saw her…it’s— it’s bad. If you see him, don’t hesitate. Fucking kill him.”

“Not going to be an issue.”

Chapter Twenty-five

Captain Graves

The warm beams of sun heat the interior of the car, lulling me into a cozy state of rest and relaxation. Like a comforting hug enveloping you after a string of unending stressful nights. The breeze floats through the trees, drifting in the open driver’s side window, cooling my face. I’m in desperate need of a coffee to perk me up, but my thermos and travel mug are bone dry. Leaving the area is too risky of a move. I’d be gone too long, something could happen. Lennox is counting on me to do my job and I can’t disappoint him, I won’t. Not when it comes to something this important. I don’t need him turning the annoyance he has for Myers toward me because I left my patrol post, too.

Could I get one of the other officers to bring me one from the local donut and coffee shop? Probably, but I shouldn’t. We’re stretched thin enough already with Nox out searching for Mallory.

Mallory.Lightbulb.

Her house is mere minutes away, and I know she hascoffee. Not only did I see it when I was there conducting my search, but I know Lennox would be barely functional without it. He’s probably guzzling it by the pot, giving himself an ulcer as a result. I could be there and back in less than a half hour. Do I risk it? The promise of a hot cup of coffee is hard to resist. Sitting up straight and putting the seat back in its upright position, I fish the keys from my pocket.

I’m about to turn the key in the ignition when I remember the branches placed over my car. The amount of time it took me to gather them all up in order to cover and conceal my vehicle almost isn’t worth the cup of coffee. Almost.

Exiting the vehicle, I click the carabiner on my keys to my belt loop and close the door. Moving through the long grass around to the rear of the cruiser has me debating this plan entirely. Should I just walk to Mallory’s? No, that will definitely take too long.

I start to lift the tree limbs off my trunk, careful not to scratch the paint anymore than I already have. Moving them neatly off to the side so I can re-use them when I return in a few minutes.

These fucking branches are awkward and heavy. I’m getting too old for this. Why did I think I needed so many? Sweat breaks out across my forehead, running drops down the sides of my flushed face.

I’m halfway done uncovering my cruiser when I hear a vehicle tearing down the dirt road. The music is loud, the bass thundering through the quiet space, sending the birds flapping away into the sky in a cacophony of caws.A small, red car whips off the road and into the mill lot, sliding on the loose gravel, then skidding to a stop.

Fucking teenagers with nothing better to do than drive fast and cause trouble. I wish there were more places to employ them in our small town.

Waiting to see what they do before I reveal myself, I crack open a three day old bottle of lukewarm water and take a swig. Wiping the sweat from my brow, I wonder what the hell these kids could be up to. I know small towns are boring and all, but now’s not the time of day to be hunting for ghosts at the mill. I’ve had to chase an unfathomable amount of kids away during my time on the force, but it’s always at night.

I’m mid-gulp when the driver emerges from the car and I suck in a shocked gasp. The water in my mouth shoots down my trachea, initiating a wheezing coughing fit. I muffle the hacking sound with my arm as I silently gulp down lungfuls of air. My eyes water as I force myself to stay upright and watch the scene unfolding before me, smothering my spluttering with my gloved hands.

I try to wrap my mind around what I’m seeing. Reaching in through the open back window, I grab a pair of binoculars. Watching as he stretches out leisurely, like a cat awakening from a long afternoon nap. Unhurriedly, he moves to the back of the car, opening the trunk and obstructing my view. Shit. I head off in his direction, dropping the binoculars through the passenger window as I pass.

Slowly I weave through the trees, trying to dampen the sound of my footsteps by dragging them low to theground instead of stomping through the underbrush. It’s somewhat working, but not as well as I need it to.

He must have a legitimate reason to be here…right? Even if it’s not his shift right now, he could be here to aid the investigation in some way.

Is he here to talk with me? Shoot the shit to pass the time just like we used to? Back before I became captain and we were partners. My mind spins, coming up with countless reasons as to why my colleague could be here, but never settling on one that makes enough sense.

However, as I watch my comrade and friend of many years pull a woman from the trunk of his car, I know now that I never really knew him at all.

The knowledge is like a punch to the gut. Chest tightening and my lunch threatening a reappearance, I try even harder to rationalize the scene before me. I watch the man who I took under my wing his first years on the force assault my son’s girlfriend, and can resist no longer. I drop to my knees, heaving my guts into the bushes as more sweat drips down my skin.

Finding my footing once again, I wipe my mouth, leaning my wobbly frame against a nearby tree for support. Pushing the heels of my hands into my eyes, I watch as my memories break apart into singular moments in time when he was so clearly lying to me. Forcing myself to relive every time he raised my hackles.

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