Page 66 of Trapper Road

“Think one person could survive losing this much blood?” What I really want to know is whether we need to be looking for a dead body somewhere.

He shrugs. “Hard to say.”

In the doorway I see another forensic tech suiting up along with a photographer. “I’ll get out of your hair,” I tell Beto. “You should have everything you need on file to exclude me, but if not just let me know. Keep me updated with what you find.”

I nod a greeting to the second tech and photographer as I step outside. Evening has given way to night, and with it the air’s turned colder. Gwen’s driveway is filled with emergency vehicles, one of which still has its lights running so that the world alternates between red and blue.

A wave of dizziness hits and I pause, placing my hand against the forensics van to keep my balance. It’s not the first time I’ve felt faint this pregnancy. I try to remember the last time I ate something and draw a blank. Maybe breakfast?

Javier would be furious if he knew. He knows my tendency to get caught up at work and forget to eat. Before he would roll his eyes at me, but now, with the baby, he’s become more protective. More than once he’s threatened to spend his lunch break at the police station making sure I’m eating enough.

I glance at my watch. Javier’s working late at the range tonight, which is why I was headed to Easy’s for dinner. I’m sure my dad noticed the cop cars driving past earlier, and he knows I’m likely to be involved, which is why I’m late. He’ll be worried about me, but I’ve got a few more things I have to take care of before I can head his way.

I send him a quick text to let him know that I’m okay, on a case, and to go ahead and eat and I’ll drop by later.

Then I take a deep breath and place the call I’ve been dreading.

Gwen answers on the second ring.

“Hey, Kez, what’s up?” She sounds distracted. I know how involved she gets in her cases and I hate that I’m interrupting.

There’s really only one way to approach this, and that’s to be direct. “Hey, Gwen. I’m at your house on Stillhouse Lake. I’m afraid there’s been an incident.”

18

GWEN

The minute I hear the edge to Kez’s voice I pull to the side of the road and put the car in park. My heart thunders in my ears as I ask, “What happened?”

“We got a call from your renters about a disturbance at the house. I was just down the road so was first on scene. When I got there, the front door was open, and when I stepped inside I found blood. A lot of it.”

I suck in a breath. “Is everyone okay? Who was it? What happened?”

She hesitates for the briefest second. “That’s the thing. There was no one there. Just the blood. No body, no victim.”

I frown. “They’re probably at the hospital, right? If it was that bad?”

“I checked. None of the hospitals or clinics in the area have any patients with injuries that match.”

My stomach tightens with concern that someone might have been injured in our house and be stuck somewhere needing help. “What if they bled out trying to find help? Have you checked the routes to the hospital to see if maybe their car ran off the road or—”

She cuts me off. “You don’t understand, Gwen. This isn’t normal. I’ve seen accident and assault cases — I’ve seen what happens when people beat the shit out of each other or go at each other with weapons. Those scenes are a mess — bloody footprints and handprints, smears along the walls, overturned furniture. There’s nothing like that at your house. It’s just the blood. There’s no other evidence of a struggle, nothing to indicate a body being dragged away.”

I blink, trying to take in what she’s saying. A familiar sense of fear begins to throb deep inside me, and I try my best to smother it. “A prank, then. It wouldn’t be the first time someone’s trashed our house to make some sort of stupid point.”

“It’s human blood. We tested it.”

I grip the steering wheel to steady my trembling fingers. “How much blood?”

“Enough that I don’t know how anyone could survive losing that much.”

My entire body goes cold as I understand the implication of her words. “You think someone was killed in our house.”

“I think it’s a possibility.” To anyone else, Kez would sound professional and controlled, but I can hear the slight tremor in her voice. She’s scared. And Kez doesn’t scare easy.

I close my eyes. This can’t be happening. Not again. Memories of when I first moved to Stillhouse Lake flash through my mind. They’d found bodies in the lake shortly after I arrived — women murdered and their mutilated bodies disposed in the water. The same MO as Melvin.

They’d been innocent pawns my ex-husband used to get back at me. They’d died because of me. I’ve been through enough therapy to know that I shouldn’t blame myself — an acolyte of Melvin’s named Lancel Graham had been the one to actually murder them — but if it hadn’t been for me, they’d still be alive.

---