The Blood Files, Case #1: Before I Wake

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The Blood Files, Case #1: Before I Wake Page 6

by Joelle Ayers


  Today was difficult. For the first time in a long time, as all other possibilities seemed to slip from my grasp, I wondered if I’d been naïve.

  Maybe Cody wasn’t incapable of hurting someone after all.

  —Chapter Nine—

  It was harder than I thought to convince Josh to let me take this walk alone tonight, but that’s what I needed. I didn’t want to have to keep up conversation, didn’t want to pretend everything was okay.

  I just needed to process it all.

  With my earbuds shoved in my ears, the crisp air helped me think clearer.

  I was devastated. There was no other word for the deep sense of disappointment and despair that hung over my head at this very moment. I felt like a fool, dismissing the obvious all because my head was clouded.

  Clouded by memories of the witty kid I grew up thinking was a superhero.

  Clouded by my love for him.

  Clouded by the idea that, because Cody loved and protected me, he had to have been just as kind and loving with everyone.

  That didn’t seem to be the case. When it came to Liz Hardy, for the first time, it was very possible she met such a tragic, violent end at the hands of the very person I idolized. Like I said, I felt like a fool.

  I turned up the volume as I rounded the corner, hoping it’d drown out my loud thoughts. I felt let down, tired, and I had no idea how to recover from this. The song I listened to faded out and then another keyed up. One I knew well by this point because, for it to have been more than fifty years old, I’d been hearing it so much you’d think it had only been released months ago.

  Out of time.

  I stopped dead in my tracks and realized where my seemingly aimless walk had taken me—practically right to the front steps of Olivia’s apartment building. Coral Road’s lyrics blared in my ears and… it felt like hearing them for the first time.

  “Still got you all over me; don’t matter you’ve been gone for years. Scrubbed you away long time ago; with stranger’s sheets and bitter tears. Goodbye stung, wouldn’t let me die, left me down on one wheel. Many times, almost slipped away; lines blurred ‘tween dreams and what’s real.”

  The chorus came next and I listened to the band’s lead singer, Ted Easter, drone on about how he ran out of time before he got to tell his long-deceased love how much she meant to him. The relatively up-tempo rhythm was almost deceiving, but there was so much darkness in the words. So much of someone’s truth.

  My feet were moving toward Olivia’s place and I don’t even remember deciding on it. I was just… moving. I took the stairs up to her floor, soaking in the lyrics, letting them convey meaning I’d somehow missed before. I was here for a reason, but had no idea what that reason was. It was uncomfortable being in this building without Josh by my side, but I didn’t even know this was my destination. Or why this was where I ended up.

  Still, I knocked, removing one earbud so I could hear her approaching. Nothing.

  “Out of time…”

  I knocked again and felt silly for thinking there was something to this. Olivia wasn’t even home. I stepped away, deciding to get out of there before she did return to ask why I stopped by, but… the sound of a door unlatching and squeaking open halted me.

  “Out of time…”

  My eyes shifted toward Olivia’s door, but, otherwise, I didn’t move a muscle. Inside her apartment was pitch black aside from the sliver of light that crept in from the hallway. My instincts were to keep going, to walk right back outside and forget I’d ever even made this little detour, but… maybe my first assumption was right.

  Maybe I was brought here for a reason.

  Maybe by the same presence that had just unlatched the door.

  This is how so many girls in scary movies bite the dust. Curiosity gets the best of them and they willingly walk toward danger. However, at this moment, those girls didn’t seem all that stupid. Maybe because I now found myself wondering if they had reasons as solid as mine to veer toward that dark basement or that ominous open closet door? Because, from where I stood, going inside that apartment made more sense than anything else I’d done this week.

  Inside… there might be answers.

  “Out of time…” Every time the chorus got to that part, it lingered in my ears.

  I went for it—fast, undetected—closing the door behind me. My heart throbbed in my chest and I tried to slow my breathing. I was pretty sure I’d just committed my first crime. Would the cops have pity on me if I explained my reasons? Or would they come at me twice as hard once they figured out who I was related to?

  I couldn’t see a thing. My phone was the only source of light I had, the only that wouldn’t be so bright people would notice it beneath the door or through the window. I brought the screen to life and aimed the pale glow all around me.

  What was I expecting to happen now that I was here? What did I expect to find?

  I took a step toward the kitchen and the song began to skip, like a scratched CD, only… I was listing on a live streaming app. That never happened. I rocked back on my heels and it stopped. I stepped right toward the living room and it happened again, sending Ted Easter into what sounded like a stuttering fit. I centered myself in front of the door again and the song played on. The third and final option was to go left down a dark hallway I purposely avoided.

  Aiming my foot in that direction, the song continued like normal. My heart was in my throat. Partly because I knew I shouldn’t have been here. Partly because, while I was sure Olivia wasn’t home, I still didn’t feel like I was alone.

  And I should have.

  My steps echoed against the mostly bare walls and I stopped when I got to the crossing point of two doors. With the bathroom straight ahead, I was positive one of the doors led to Olivia’s, while the other had to have been Liz’s.

  A chill ran down my spine. More than before, I wanted to take off running, wanted to get out of there and go home to Josh and safety and familiarity, but I couldn’t. If there was something I needed to see here, if Liz led me here for a reason, I couldn’t justify leaving simply because I was afraid.

  Another step and the wood floor creaked just like before. Touching the knob to the right, the song stalled again and it was unnerving. I was beginning to notice a pattern. When I pulled away and reached for the other knob, it played smoothly again. I turned it and entered a space that held traces of juniper-scented perfume or maybe candles. It didn’t smell stale and closed off. It smelled fresh, like someone lived in it. Not like the person who used to occupy the space hadn’t been returned in several months. I knew I was in Olivia’s space and the room across the hall hadn’t smelled like this, like life, for quite some time.

  I fumbled around a bit, digging in drawers and beneath the mattress, turning up nothing. There had to be a reason she wanted me here. I accepted that at some point between walking through that door and standing here; I hadn’t shown up here of my own will. It was Liz.

  The song ended and, instead of the app playing something similar I might like, which was how it was supposed to function, the voices of Coral Road seeped into my ear again.

  For some reason, I wasn’t surprised.

  “What do you want me to see?” I asked aloud, realizing what I’d done about halfway through the sentence. As if I was speaking to Liz aloud. As if I believed she could hear every word.

  When Josh bit me, when he saved my life, a door to the supernatural world was kicked wide open. I didn’t know how or why, but it was true. This wasn’t what either one of us expected; however, I was beginning to think there wasn’t a whole lot we could do to stop it. So, if I was going to be plagued with this ability, I at least wanted to put it to good use for Liz’s sake.

  So, with my mind made up that this was kinda my life for now—until I fully changed, if I fully changed—I asked again, but this time I was bold.

  “Liz, I’m here. I’m trying to help you, but I need you to tell me what I’m looking for.”

  I stood silent, waitin
g or listening. I wasn’t sure which, but I needed direction.

  My head whipped left when I thought I saw a white blur go past the open doorway. I lost my breath when fear inched its way higher up my spine. And, just like after the last dream… the room was suddenly freezing.

  Don’t freak out, Vi.

  I moved toward the window and the song skipped again, so I veered toward the closet instead. Nothing happened when I continued on. That must have been where it was.

  Whatever it was.

  I rummaged around on the floor, pushing aside shoe boxes and a few old text books. There wasn’t anything there. I stood again, searching the top shelf. More junk—purses, a baseball cap…

  “Left me down on one wheel… Left me down on one wheel… Left me down on one wheel…”

  The lyrics echoed over and over again.

  “Left… Is it to the left?” I asked aloud, feeling my way over to that side instead.

  My fingertips grazed sunglasses, a bottle of perfume, empty baskets and containers before landing on a wooden box.

  And then there was silence.

  The song stopped and being thrust into the eerie quiet of Olivia’s empty apartment was jarring. I stooped and placed what I now recognized as a jewelry box down to open it, lifting out the velvet trays riddled with a blend of costume and real pieces. But just beneath it all—an envelope.

  It took a moment to understand what I was seeing in the image, but then the face beside Olivia’s jogged my memory. I’d seen him before, the man in several compromising positions with Liz Hardy’s best friend.

  I recognized him from the trial because… he was Liz’s father—Ian Hardy.

  I eased down into a seated position near the foot of Olivia’s bed, trying to make sense of things. Thumbing through the images, it became abundantly clear that Olivia was, at some point, romantically involved with Liz’s dad. More than romantically involved, based on what I saw in the racy photos.

  But, still, how did this tie into Liz’s murder? My thoughts were flooded with possibilities. I considered that Liz could have found out about Ian’s affair, maybe threatened to tell her mother, which caused him to murder his own daughter? It could have gone so many ways.

  “Find anything interesting?” The sound of Olivia’s voice nearly made my heart leap from my chest when she flipped the light on. “Didn’t peg you as a criminal, but breaking and entering is hard to deny when you’re caught red handed.”

  I noted that she didn’t sound rattled at all that I was in her space. Actually, she was calm. A little too calm. There was no denying what I was doing here or what I found because the evidence was still in my hand. I had so many questions. Questions she didn’t have to answer for me; however, she would certainly have to answer them for the authorities.

  “What happened to her?”

  Olivia’s eyes locked on mine as she set her purse down on the bed.

  “To Liz?” She seemed shocked that I asked. “Isn’t that a question you ought to be asking that Cicero guy? Or maybe King Midas,” she added. “I’m guessing by your snooping, you didn’t figure out who he was.”

  I stood and kept her in my line of sight and I was now positive she’d been the one to leak the diary pages. Possibly to throw me off her track by muddling my brain with all the possible suspects.

  “We found him, but Goldberg’s got an airtight alibi,” I shared.

  She crossed both arms over her chest and tilted her head. “Then I guess Cicero’s still our guy.”

  Her declaration reminded me of the brief lapse of faith I had a short time ago, doubting my brother’s innocence. However, I was now convinced more than ever that Cody was locked away for absolutely no reason. How could I have doubted him for one second? I shouldn’t have let outside circumstances color my memory. He was still just as sweet and gentle today as I remembered him being. I hadn’t made it all up, hadn’t imagined it.

  Liz led me here tonight and… I was also starting to believe her father had nothing to do with this. Yes, he was cheating on his wife, but he wasn’t a killer.

  Olivia was.

  I was as sure of it as I was that the sky was blue. Liz led me here, to the doorstep of her killer, and I had to do something about it.

  I managed to get a short text to Josh. All it said was, “Olivia’s”. Right after, I set my phone to record before shoving it and the pictures in my pocket.

  “Actually, I’ve got it on good authority ‘that Cicero guy’ is innocent, sitting in a jail cell because of a crime someone else committed.”

  A cold look was passed my way.

  “This is all very interesting, but it still doesn’t explain why you’re here. In my apartment. Uninvited.” Her voice was rough, angry. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t call the cops and have you arrested right now.”

  “Because you and I both know I’m not the one who’d be leaving in handcuffs.”

  She blinked a few times, and the fake expression she wore melted away completely, giving way to a dark smile. It was strange how, at first, I was concerned about bringing up the death of her friend for fear of opening a wound that hadn’t healed. And, all along, it was Olivia. She killed Liz.

  “Why’d you do it?” I just… needed to know. I needed to understand what was at the root of my brother being away from our family for months. What had Liz done that was so bad Olivia thought killing her was warranted?

  “I still don’t know what you’re talking about,” she insisted.

  “Well these pictures say otherwise.”

  She actually laughed. We were talking about someone’s tragic death and the possibility of her having a hand in killing her, and she laughed.

  “The only thing those pictures tell you is that Ian Hardy and I were… close. That’s it.” She stepped toward me again and a breath hitched in my throat because I felt trapped, like the walls were closing in on me.

  “She was your best friend,” I reasoned, hoping to get some sort of answer out of her, praying my phone was still picking all this up.

  “Friends,” Olivia repeated, focusing on that one word as she casually walked toward her bed. My eyes stayed trained on her as she dug down in her purse. She grabbed something small from inside it, but I couldn’t make it out.

  “Did I get that wrong? Did Liz hurt you?” I was desperate to get Olivia talking. Even if all she did was give enough to prove she had a motive.

  “Friends don’t try to stand in the way of your happiness,” she shared. “I said nothing when Liz decided to explore things with Goldberg. I said nothing when she hooked up with random strangers, night after night after night.” Olivia shook her head as she thought. “So, why couldn’t I have happiness, too?”

  I was dumbfounded. “With… Liz’s father? He was what you wanted?”

  “He was all I ever wanted.”

  I was completely shocked she answered my question. But, as she came closer, I wondered if that was because she didn’t intend to let me live to tell the story.

  “He cared too much what people thought,” she went on. “His only concern was what if his Lizzy found out what we were doing. He thought it’d break her heart if she knew he was seeing someone behind her mom’s back, seeing me behind her mom’s back.”

  “So, because of Liz, he ended it?” I was taking a guess, just trying to keep her talking because I wasn’t sure what would happen when she stopped.

  Again, she nodded and the sickening smile that crossed her face made my blood run cold when she answered. It made me positive I was staring into the eyes of a stone-cold killer even before she answered.

  “So… I ended her.”

  I backed up until I was against the wall—in more ways than one. There was nowhere else to go. My gaze shifted toward the door and I wondered if I could slip past her, but the bed was in the way and would, no doubt, slow me down. Leaving only one choice if I was going to get out of here unscathed.

  I’d have to fight.

  The problem? I’d never raised a hand to anyo
ne in my life.

  I stepped right and she mirrored it, blocking me.

  “I thought you wanted to talk?”

  I shook my head. “No, we’re done here.”

  She shook her head and the object she’d taken from her purse was now visible as she held it close to her thigh.

  A knife.

  “You know I can’t just let you walk out of here like this.”

  And I did know that, which was why my heart was beating like mad inside my chest.

  She came at me fast. Too fast for me to dodge her completely. The sharp point went into my side and I felt it sink deep. My hands braced her shoulders, but there was no strength to shove her away. I staggered back, not believing things would end this way. She pulled the blade free and I stared at my blood coating it before she plunged it in again, just above my navel.

  I felt weak, powerless. Not like a girl who’d been bitten by such a feared and dangerous creature as a vamp. This would’ve been a great time for any latent powers to manifest, but… all I did was bleed.

  “You shouldn’t have come here,” Olivia stated, reminding me of something I already knew.

  I should’ve just stayed home and minded my business. Should have left well enough alone. But I didn’t. Couldn’t. If I shoved my head in the sand and pretended everything was fine, there would be no justice for Cody.

  And I couldn’t let that happen.

  Something rose up from my gut and I couldn’t explain it. Maybe it was the adrenaline from being stabbed, a blast of energy to activate my fight or flight mechanism. But… being injured already, my instinct should have been to flee. That wasn’t the case, though. Something inside me screamed for me to fight.

  Without thinking, I stretched my hand toward Olivia’s throat and I was pleased with the feel of her soft flesh against my palm. It felt like, if I squeezed hard enough, I could crush her windpipe. Nothing would’ve brought me more joy.

  Strength came out of nowhere and, without realizing it, her feet no longer touched the ground and she was dangling in the air at least a foot above me. I’d never been very strong. The only muscle I exercised on a regular basis was my brain, so it defied logic that I could lift one-hundred-plus pounds into the air with one hand.

 

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