Page 30 of Not This Way

“And the cat?”

“He’s the carpet in my bedroom.”

Rachel hid a smile, shaking her head. Her aunt had always been a force to be reckoned with, and it was in moments like these that she felt the full weight of her legacy.

Sarah pulled a flask from her pocket, unscrewing the cap and taking a swig of whiskey. The amber liquid glowed like captured firelight as she offered it to Rachel, who hesitated for a moment before accepting the drink. The burn of the alcohol seared through her veins, mingling with the lingering chill in her bones.

The two of them sat in silence, watching the distance. It was almost… pleasant.

The unspoken words were painful.

But those that had been shared were comforting in their own fashion.

The cicadas’ chorus grew louder as the night settled in, their rhythmic hum punctuating the heavy silence that had fallen between Rachel and her aunt. Sarah’s head lolled forward, her breathing slow and steady as she succumbed to the gentle rocking of the chair and the whiskey’s warm embrace.

Rachel rose quietly, retrieving a wool blanket from inside the cabin. She draped it over her aunt, tucking it carefully around her shoulders. The scent of cedar and earth clung to the fibers, mingling with the faint aroma of sage that still lingered on her aunt’s skin.

Sarah stirred, her lips moving to form words. “You should’ve long since solved your parents’ murder,” she mumbled, her voice slurred and thick with sleep.

The words hung in the air like smoke, choking Rachel with a familiar cloud of guilt and frustration. She swallowed hard, her throat tight as she turned away, the floorboards creaking softly behind her.

She wasn’t sure if her aunt was even conscious of what she’d said.

But the accusation was one that had been levied in the past.

She just glanced at her aunt, sighed, nodded, then began to move down the steps toward her waiting car. The gravel crunched beneath Rachel’s boots as she made her way down the dirt road, her gaze drawn to the silhouette of her car.

She slipped into the vehicle.

“Damn it,” she muttered under her breath, her knuckles white as she gripped the steering wheel, her heart pounding in time with the thrumming engine as it rattled to life.

The drive to the motel was a blur, the landscape slipping by like shadows in the moonlight. As the miles passed, memories of her parents floated to the surface, their laughter and warmth filling the hollow spaces within her. She thought of her mother’s gentle touch, her father’s strong arms wrapped around her as they danced together in the kitchen.

She scowled. She had to find out what had happened to those women.

Tomorrow morning would provide the light. She would just have to follow the trail.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The nightmare of her parents’ disappearance came quickly, as soon as her head had hit the pillow. Rachel jolted awake, her body drenched in sweat. She could feel her heart pounding against her ribcage as if it were trying to escape. Grasping for air, she tried to steady her breathing, but the nightmare still clung to her like a second skin.

“Damn it,” she muttered, wiping beads of perspiration from her forehead. The thin motel sheets were tangled around her legs, and she kicked them off with an irritated groan. Her trembling hands betrayed her attempt at steadying herself.

She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the images from her dream to fade away. Instead, they sharpened, transporting her back to that fateful night when everything changed.

The shattered windowpane was the first thing she noticed. Large shards of glass littered the hardwood floor, their jagged edges glinting menacingly in the moonlight. It was a big window, perhaps four feet wide and six feet tall—large enough for someone to crawl through without much effort.

“Mom? Dad?” Ten-year-old Rachel’s voice was barely a whisper, fear constricting her throat. Her small hands trembled as she reached out to touch the broken window, pausing when she saw the blood smeared across the few remaining glass panes. It looked thick and dark, almost black in the dim light. There wasn’t a lot of blood, just enough to indicate that whoever broke in had likely cut themselves on the sharp glass.

“Please… please be okay.” The plea escaped her lips before she even realized she’d spoken aloud. She blindly felt for the wall, using it to guide her down the hallway toward her parents’ bedroom.

“Mom, Dad, are you—” The words caught in her throat as she pushed open the door, only to find the room empty. The bedsheets were thrown back in haste, as if her parents had been ripped from their sleep. But there was no sign of them, no indication of where they could be.

“Where are you?” she whispered, her voice shaking as much as her body.

Back then, she had been wide-eyed and curious, her spirit unbroken by the tragedy that would later define her. She remembered how she’d cling to her Aunt Sarah, the only family she had left after that fateful night, finding comfort in her presence.

Over the years, she developed a thick skin, channeling her emotions into her work and adopting an analytical approach to problem-solving. Her mind became a fortress, guarding her against the shadows of her past.

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