Page 191 of A Curse On Black Lake
What will you do if this evil comes for you and does much worse than kill you?
“It’s worth it. Plus, it’s possible he doesn’t want to kill me,” I mumble.
What if he doesn’t come at all? What will you do then?
“He knows I’m here,” I tell them.
The Spirits don’t answer back, likely because they’re mad at me.
It doesn’t matter though, I’m a carrot on a stick.Hejust has to bite.
Unknown
Our obstacle has been removed; soon we will have an eternity together.
She sits in her rocking chair, with a pretty white dress on.
She’s waiting, and so soon for me, she will surrender.
But a new day rises with the dawn.
For tonight is not her last,
our time is nearly here, and forever will be ours at last.
Chapter fifty-seven
Killian
“WherewereyouonMay 17th?”
“Why am I talking to you? Wyatt’s the head of this case,” I tell the deputy.
“He’s not the one asking the questions. So I’ll ask again. Where were you?”
“Who are you?” I ask the deputy even though he’s wearing a name tag. Regardless, I didn’t work with him when I was here.
His jaw twitches, and I lean back. At this point it’s not about answering questions, it’s about biding my time until I can get myself out of here, or by some miracle the asshole stalking my woman doesn’t find her and kill her, and she’s somehow able to pull the bail money together.
“Did you know this woman?” he asks, pushing a photo of the woman found on my property.
“No,” I state.
“Where were you the night before she was found?” he asks.
I lean forward and make a show of looking at his name tag. “Well, Deputy Martinez, I was with my girlfriend. But you would know that if you were the head of the case.” I look at the two-way mirror. I know Wyatt is behind it, watching. The other side is a closet. Not the best design, but it’s a low-budget Sheriff’s Department.
“Wyatt knows that, doesn’t he?” I ask the mirror, then return to Martinez.
Martinez doesn’t answer, and I sigh. “Fine, what do you have on me thatisn’tcircumstantial?” I ask him.
“Wyatt requested that I ask you questions, due to your last interaction,” Martinez says.
I smile to myself. He deserved it.
“Where were you the night before Hazel Usher was found?” he asks, sliding a photo of Hazel dressed like Eliana, laying in her garden.
Interesting, that means she was probably killed nearly a day before she was found.
