Page 197 of A Curse On Black Lake
“What about my land?” I ask him.
“You’re that Greer girl, right?” he asks.
I smile and swallow my irritation.
“How much is the Greer land worth?” he asks.
My stomach rolls, and my very soul hurts at the thought of losing what’s been in my family for generations. But what choice do I have? I need this money.
“I’m not sure.”
“Well, you could get it appraised and then come back,” he says.
“I need the money today,” I tell him.
He laughs again. “Yeah, that’s not happening. Appraisals can take up to a month. We don’t exactly have a thriving real estate market in Black Lake. Appraisers have to come into town to do it.”
“Please,” I beg. “Please give me another option.”
“There isn’t one,” he states.
I blink, trying to keep the frustrated tears at bay.
“Thank you for your time,” I rasp and dash out of the bank across the street to the Sheriff’s Department.
Overwhelmed is not the word I would use to describe how I’m feeling right now — I’m beyond it. Part of me is numb, and I’m on autopilot trying to find a way through the maze that has become my life. Yet, I’m constantly trying not to break down and fall into a puddle of hyperventilating tears. I need to talk to him. I miss him.
I was hoping I wouldn’t have to use my back-up plan and post Killian’s bail, but that’s not an option anymore. Setting myself up as bait last night didn’t work, but I’ve had more time to think of a plan B. And this one includes actually catching the man who has done all of this.
Going from never having experienced anything until Killian, to not being able to wrap my arms around his strong frame is like sinking into Black Lake with no hope of coming up for air. I didn’t realize I’d become so reliant.
The station is busier during the daytime, and I find Virginia Livingston sitting at the desk this time. “I’d like to speak to Killian Lennox, please,” I tell her.
She frowns and flips a few pages in her book. “He’s not—”
“Eliana, my office,now,” Wyatt yells.
I glance at Virginia, and she shrugs.
I finger Grams’s necklace around my throat and tentatively step into Wyatt’s office.
“What did you mean last night?” he asks.
“Nothing,” I sigh because it doesn’t matter now.
“Why would you be dead?” he asks.
I scoff. “That’s a joke, right? I told you what was going on. And I didn’t even cover how the woman you found on my property was made to look like me, as you well know. It’s obvious that I’m a target, or are you so bad at your job you didn’t put that together?”
“Watch it,” he grumbles.
“What were you doing?” he asks.
“Why the hell do you care?” I snap. Maybe he’ll give himself up and prove my suspicion.
Wyatt frowns and crosses his arms. “I care, but I—”
“The hell you do! You’ve been after Killian since day one, looking and hoping, maybe evencreatingevidence to point to him. I told you he was with me, and, big surprise, we weretogether when Hazel was killed. Is it becauseyou’re the onedoing all of this? I would have spoken up a long time ago if I had known anyone would believe me. But why would they listen to me? I’m just the crazy witch in town!” I yell, heart pounding. He can’t do anything to me here, so why not let him know I think he’s the one killing all these women? No one would ever suspect the Sheriff.
