Page 130 of The Sister's Curse
“You got all your stuff, kiddo?” Yvette asked.
He grunted an affirmative and came out to the van, shoulders slumped in defeat. Gibby gave him a kiss on the back of the hand.
“Come on,” Yvette said. “Let’s get on the road. We should be able to get home in time for dinner.”
He chucked his things into the back of the van, then got in and stared sullenly out the window as I gave my card to Yvette. I surreptitiously slipped one of my cards into Ross’s bag. My personal cell phone number was scrawled on the back of each.
“If Mark contacts you, can you call me?”
“Will do.”
I watched as they pulled out onto the road and headed east, toward Pennsylvania.
I told myself this was the best thing. He’d be far away from Bayern County and its wrathful Rusalka.
But I still felt sad for him. His parents sucked. I could empathize, with his dad being a killer and his mom off creating a new family.
I sure hoped he would be okay.
I stood and waved like a cheerful little cop.
When they were out of sight, I approached the house. I reached under the doormat for the key Ross had left behind, and let myself inside.
I swept through the house, searching for any sign of Nick or Viv, and evidence of any crimes. The worst thing I saw was something green rotting in the fridge. I wasn’t gentle. I tossed the place like a burglar. Didn’t find anything.
I descended to the basement and surveyed the gas pipes.
Mark’s tools were well organized in a pretty red chest. I pulled the sleeve of my blouse down over my hand and picked up a pipe wrench. I loosened the fittings around the furnace pipe until I smelled gas.
I stared at the water heater. It was new, and it didn’t have a pilot light, just an electronic ignition. It would spark at some point soon.
Letting the basement fill with gas, I left the house. I locked the front door behind me, climbed in the SUV, and pulled out of the driveway.
I was going to send a message to Lister. I was going to burn everything he had down to the ground for fucking with me, hurting Monica, and taking Nick.
By the time I pulled out to the main road, the water heatermust have cycled on, because a tremendous boom echoed behind me then. I looked in my rearview mirror at the orange fireball in the sky. My lips peeled back in a snarl. Gibby grinned at me from the passenger seat, his tongue lolling from his lips.
“Happy Fourth of July, asshole.”
29
The Walk-in
Deep in my bones, I knew where the Kings of Warsaw Creek had to be going eventually, after dark, where no one could see them.
The Hag Stone.
I drove down twisting two-lane roads as rain began to pepper the windshield. As I got closer to the park, the rain thickened, coming down in sheets.
I turned on the radio. I expected the fireworks to be canceled at least.
“…the National Weather Service in Wilmington has declared a flash flood emergency for Bayern County. Residents are advised to seek high ground and avoid driving through standing water. The Copperhead River is expected to crest at nine feet. Anyone attending any outdoor celebrations along the river is asked to evacuate…”
“Well, at least that’s something in our favor,” I said to Gibby. “No one’s going to be out to see any of this.”
I crawled the car up the access road to the park. The road hadbeen washed out by rain, and the car swam against the current. I finally made the decision to put it in the ditch. It didn’t matter. Nobody was getting out of this.
Gibby’s ears were sharply alert. “Stay close, buddy,” I told him. I regretted bringing him. But Nick was his dad, and there was no leaving him behind.
