Page 74 of Legacy of Lies
Chapter 18
The foul metallic and syrup smell knocked her back a step. She clung to the doorknob to remain upright.
“Stupid kids,” Izzy muttered as she peered around Sara. After disappearing into the house, Izzy returned with pliers, paper towels, and several plastic bags. With a determined set to her mouth, she approached the corpse.
“Oh, God, Izzy, you don’t have to do that.”
“Not a problem. I’ve trapped and skinned animals before. I can handle a”—she used the tool to spin the body around—“prairie dog just fine. Here, come hold this bag for me.”
In no time, Izzy broke the chain, and the whole mess fell into the bag. Sara double bagged it and tied twice. She ran around the house to throw the mess in the garbage can. Anything to make the disgusting smell stop.
Who would have done something like this? Oh no. Holy Christ.
As she returned to the front door, she darted glances up and down the street. The lack of traffic didn’t reassure her. Even the shadows seemed to jump.
Bang!
She flew into the house and bolted the door, peeking out the side window.
Only someone closing a car door.
A completely normal sound, unless you are losing your mind.
“Are you okay?” Izzy touched her arm, and Sara jumped again. “Okay, obviously not.”
“Fine, I’m fine,” she whispered, as they went to the kitchen to wash up.
“Doesn’t look like it to me. You want me to drive you somewhere else to stay tonight?”
“No, not necessary. Say, Izzy, you don’t think, uh ...”
She grimaced. “Hank? I can’t imagine him doing this. I swear. It has to be some prankster kids or something.”
“Yeah, sorry to even think that.”
“Hey, you can think what you like. You’ve had a hellish week and capped it off with a dead animal on your porch.” She dried off her hands and hugged her. “Sure you’re okay?”
Sara nodded. “Go on back home. I’m good. Promise.”
“Call me if you need anything, okay?”
“Of course.” She eased the door closed.
Long after Izzy drove away, Sara remained right there, hand on the locked deadbolt, her back pressed to the wall, frozen. Every creak of the house, every rustle of leaves, frayed her nerves.
She could always give Garrison a call. If he ever spoke to her again, he might let her stay at the ranch—
Absolutely not. No way could she burden him with another person to help and more work to do. Nope, it was time to pull up the big girl undies and manage things on her own. Exactly how she had done before and would do from here on out.
• • •
Five a.m. Sunday morning. Sleep wasn’t going to happen.
Between periods of freaking out at little noises and shadows, Izzy’s advice wormed its way into Sara’s head. Maybe it was the loopy time of the morning where logic got all twisted and warped. Maybe she hadn’t considered Garrison’s insecurities and issues because she was too wrapped up in her own. Still, as fabulous as Izzy’s recommendation to go over there and grab his balls was, a more circumspect approach might be better.
She flicked on her phone. Was she really going to do this? Yes. So what if the activity fell into the “mooning adolescent” category.
She’d settle for a rejection text from Garrison at this point—anything to connect with him. How lame was that?
