Ashes to Ashes (Burn for Burn #3)

Ashes to Ashes (Burn for Burn #3) Page 4

“I guess so.” I don’t want to hurt Mary. That’s the last thing I want. And this thing with Reeve really is over. Maybe Kat’s right.

I park in Mary’s driveway, right behind her aunt’s Volvo. It doesn’t look like anyone’s shoveled the snow; it’s melting in patches. When I get out of the car, the bottoms of my boots crunch on broken glass. Kat and I look at each other, uneasy.

We go up to the front door and ring the bell, but no one answers. I have this weird feeling, like someone is watching us. It’s the prickly-back-of-the-neck feeling I get late at night when the whole house is asleep and I go downstairs to get a glass of water. I always run back to my room fast.

Kat starts knocking on the door, hard.

“This is creepy,” I whisper.

Kat keeps knocking until her knuckles turn red. “Shit.” She presses up close to the window. “It looks like a tornado blew through there.”

I press my nose up against the glass. Oh my God. The dining room chairs are knocked over; the entryway table is on its side. “Kat, Mary could be in serious trouble. We have to call the police!”

“The police?” Kat repeats. She’s craning her neck, trying to see up the stairs. “Why don’t we just break in ourselves and see what’s what?”

“Because there could be an intruder in there! Who knows what we’d be walking into!” I grab her by the arm and drag her back to the car, where I take out my cell and dial 911.

Chapter Four

KAT

IT’S A FREAKING HALF HOUR before a cop car rolls up to Mary’s house. So much for a goddamned emergency.

Lillia jumps out of the car and walks down the sidewalk to meet the officer at the walkway. I’m a few steps behind her when Eddie Shofull climbs out of the squad car like a damn cowboy.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” I say.

Officer Eddie Shofull is all of twenty-two years old. He looks way more like a boy dressed up in a cop uniform than an actual cop. He used to be friends with Pat back in high school. Scratch that. Eddie used to smoke weed with Pat back in high school. After graduation, too. Basically until he joined the Jar Island Police Force. His father is a deputy sheriff. Jar Island nepotism at its finest.

Eddie glares at me. “What’d you expect, Kat? A detective?”

“Um, yeah. Considering we’ve got a missing-persons case here. Or a possible hostage situation.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and radios in that he has arrived on the scene.

“Officer,” Lillia says, and nudges me to the side. “Please. We haven’t been able to get in touch with our friend. Her guardian had mental health issues, and we want to make sure she’s okay.”

Eddie looks over the tops of our heads at the house. “When was the last time you saw her?”

“Before New Year’s Eve,” Lillia answers quickly.

“Have you tried calling her?”

I throw my hands into the air. “Of course we’ve tried calling, you dumb-ass.”

“Kat!” Lillia throws me a warning look before turning back to Eddie. “There’s no answer, Officer. Her school locker was emptied out, and—”

“She probably moved.”

Finally Lillia returns my look—that Eddie is a freaking moron. “Then tell me why her house is in complete shambles and there’s a ton of broken glass in the driveway!”

Lillia takes him by the hand and leads him over to the pile. He clicks his flashlight onto the shards even though it’s bright and sunny and we can see just fine. He crunches a few shards under his boot. “You can’t tell when this glass was broken. It could have been months ago. Years ago, even.”

“Years ago?” I scoff. “Come on, Eddie. You sound like a damned idiot!”

He narrows his eyes and puts a hand on his radio. “All it takes is one call, and you girls will both spend a night in jail for calling in a false report and insulting an officer of the law.”

Lillia’s eyes widen. She’s totally falling for his fake-ass, weak-ass threat. “We’re not trying to be disrespectful—”

“I am!” I shout.

“Please just check out the house, okay? Because if our friend is up there being tortured by her psycho aunt, and you didn’t properly investigate, you’ll be the one in jail!” And with that, Lillia folds her arms and purses her lips.

Eddie stares right back, and then slides his nightstick out from his belt. “Fine. I’ll do a quick perimeter check. You two stay here.”

But of course we don’t. We follow Eddie as he walks around to the back of Mary’s house. We both call out, “Mary? Are you there?”

Eddie walks up the back stairs and knocks hard on the kitchen door with the butt of his nightstick. And, wouldn’t you know, the thing pops wide open.

Lillia and I share a look before we push past Eddie and enter the house.

“You girls get back here!” Eddie shouts from the doorway. “I’m serious, Kat! Come on!”

“Mary?” Lillia calls out. “Are you in here?” Her breath makes tiny clouds. The heat is off. It’s even colder in here than it is outside.

It’s dead quiet.

And shit really is everywhere.

I walk around the kitchen table. “This is so weird.” It looks like Mary and her aunt literally up and disappeared without any notice. Why else would there be dirty dishes left in the sink? There are empty plates on the table. I lean in close and see some mouse droppings.

“Kat, come on. Let’s check upstairs,” Lillia says.

Eddie groans and takes one step inside. “This is unlawful trespassing!” he whispers.

“You coming with us or not, Eddie?”

I pull my jacket up around my neck, and the three of us go deeper inside, through the hallway, through the living room. The place is still full of Mary’s family’s things. There are lighthouse and seascape paintings hanging on almost every wall and a bunch of family pictures on the fireplace mantel. I walk up to one. It’s of Mary as a girl, posed with two people who I guess must be her mom and dad. She’s barely recognizable. I remember her telling us that she used to be overweight, and I couldn’t imagine it. But she was chubby. Big red cheeks, a double chin, round potbelly.

I can totally see Reeve picking on her, that bastard.

Lillia looks at the picture too. “Maybe this means she’ll come back here eventually. Her family will want to get their things, right?”

“Maybe,” I say. But I don’t believe it. Looking around the rest of the room, I can see that most of it’s trashed.