Page 7 of Twisted Truths
My heart races at the thought of nearly getting caught. Something tells me that sick fuck Ignatius Solomon wouldn’t take too kindly to finding me hanging around outside his fences, and I’m really not in the mood to be hauled in by thechief of police either. Not if I want him to hear me when I plead Zara’s case.
When the coast is clear, I straighten and roll my shoulders to ease the tension. With one last glance through the trees, I turn and run back down the road towards town, constantly checking over my shoulder, unable to shake the creepy feeling of being watched.
The house is still quiet when I let myself in through the front door, and I forego the noisy coffee machine sitting on the counter, quietly searching the cupboards until I find the mugs and some horrible instant crap that will surely taste like mud compared to the caramel macchiato’s I’m used to from the Brew Crew, a hip café down the street from my apartment in Boston.
I stare out the window as I wait for the kettle to boil. Levi and Paige’s modest three-bedroom home overlooks Barrenridge Park, and my memories drift to all the times Zara and I took our little brother, Rylan, there to play when he was younger. My chest aches when I realise it’s his birthday next month. He would have turned thirteen. A teenager. When the hell did that happen? I spoke to him a month ago, and he told me how he had a crush on a girl from school. Did he ever ask her out? I guess I’ll never know now.
My eyes fall on the hedge maze in the corner of the park, where I had my first kiss with Macey Parker in year eight. Nerves got the better of me, and my hands were sweaty as I pulled her through the maze until we reached the wooden platform in the middle. We made out for ages until her brother came searching for her and gave me a bloody nose for touching his sister.
Levi clears his voice behind me. “Morning. Been for a run?”
I nod, still lost in my memories.
He busies himself making his own coffee, and I move over to sit at the dining table. We need a plan of attack, because if I’m idle for too long, I’m going to fucking lose it. I’m barely hanging on as it is. Someone has to pay for what happened to my family. I won’t let them pin this on Zara.
“Why do you think Ziggy did it?” I ask Levi when he sits down across from me, my voice gravelly.
Levi’s brows nearly shoot off his forehead, and if the topic wasn’t so painful, I might’ve fucking laughed.
“Joined the Sunfire Circle,” I clarify. “Why’d she do it?”
He rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t know. Maybe it had something to do with that shithead ex-boyfriend of hers?”
“Tanner Crawley?” I ask.
Levi nods. “Something about him was off. I don’t know.” He lets out an exasperated sigh. “I got this feeling he wasn’t treating her right. She was jumpy all the time, and she was always wearing oversized clothes.”
“You think he was hurting her?” Bile rises up the back of my throat at the thought.
Why was I so in the dark about all of this? Every time I spoke to my sister, she seemed upbeat and happy. I had no idea anything was wrong until just over six months ago, when her phone was disconnected. When I called Mum to see what was going on, she told me Zara had broken up with Tanner and moved out to the Sunfire Circle farm for a little while to seek clarity and try to find herself after the breakup.
Mum and Paul weren’t happy about it, but she was almost twenty-three years old. What could they do about it? They couldn’t lock her up, and while everyone in town knows Ignatius Solomon is a shady fucker, apparently there’s no evidence that his so-called spiritual commune is doing anything illegal.
I called Levi and begged him to get her out of there. It took him six months to convince her to come home. Less than ten hours later, my family was dead.
“What time did you tell Shane we’d be at the station?” My hand shakes as I bring my mug to my lips, swallowing down the sludge my half-brother is trying to pass off as coffee.
Levi checks his watch. “We’re meeting him at seven-thirty.”
It’s only six-thirty.
“I need to go past the house.”
“It’s still a crime scene.”
I slam my fist down on the table. “I need to see the house, goddammit!”
A few seconds later, Sawyer cries. Levi runs a hand over his tired face as he gets to his feet. “Go shower while I settle her.”
It’sseven by the time we pull over outside the gate to Mum and Paul’s small farm, about ten kilometres out of the main township of Barrenridge. The sight of the bright yellow crime scene tape is like something out of a movie.
This is not my real life.
It can’t be.
We leave Levi’s car parked on the side of the road, and climb the fence, walking in silence up the long driveway towards the property.
My heart races faster the closer we get to the house. The murders occurred three days ago—I don’t know what I’m walking into.
