Don't Make a Sound: A Sawyer Brooks Thriller

by T. R. Ragan

  She stopped at the door to listen. Heard voices. She recognized Harper’s voice at once. The other voice belonged to a female, whom she assumed was Mom.

  Dad must be in the bedroom, but wouldn’t he have heard the doorbell and gone out to see who Mom was talking to?

  Her stomach quivered. Her instincts on high alert.

  She made her way quietly around the house, peeking inside windows and jiggling them to see if she could get in that way. When she got to her dad’s old office, she was surprised when she jiggled the window and found it unlocked. The curtains were pulled tight, and there were no lamps or lights on inside the room. She shook the window, sliding it upward an inch at a time, until there was enough room to pull herself up and then use her feet to push her way through the opening. She rolled down onto the floor, hands first and then tucking her head under, without making much noise. The room smelled. Moldy and stale with neglect, and possibly something else she couldn’t place.

  On her feet again, Aria took two steps before she knocked into something and came to a halt. She bent down to her knees and reached out, held back a scream. She pulled out her cell and used the flashlight on it to take a closer look.

  Dad!

  His back was up against the wall, his head tilting to the right, his face gray and covered with blood. A letter opener was sticking out of his chest.

  She felt for a pulse. Nothing. He was dead, and after hearing what Harper had to say, she wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

  A noise coming from across the room prompted her to jump to her feet. She pointed the cell phone that way. The beam of light fell on a young woman in the corner of the room. Her ankles and wrists had been fastened with zip ties. Her mouth covered with duct tape.

  What the hell was going on?

  Aria worried about Harper as she went to the woman and knelt at her side. She needed to hurry. She took a corner of the duct tape covering the woman’s mouth and ripped it off without mercy.

  The woman cursed under her breath and said, “If she hears us, she’ll kill us.”

  “Who are you?”

  “Melanie Quinn. I’m a friend of Sawyer’s. Who are you?”

  “I’m Aria, Sawyer’s sister.”

  “I know you,” she said. “I mean, I know of you.”

  Aria rummaged around the desk for scissors as Melanie talked.

  “Your mom knocked me over the head with a vase when I came looking for Sawyer earlier,” Melanie said. “When I was standing in the foyer, I heard Sawyer yelling for help. I’m not sure where she was. I swear it sounded as if her cries for help were coming up through the floorboards.”

  “Under the house,” Aria said, her heart racing. “She’s in the crawl space.”

  Aria cut the ties from around Melanie’s wrists and handed the scissors to her. “Here,” Aria said. “Call the police. I’ve got to go.” Where was Harper? Her mind was swirling with speculation. The thought of either of her sisters being harmed made her sick to her stomach. She needed to hurry.

  The door squeaked as Aria pushed it open. She looked both ways before stepping into the hallway and making her way toward the front entry. Nobody was there. Aria pivoted on her feet and walked into the salon where Mom and Dad used to greet visitors. Harper was on the ground, her hand on her head, blood trickling down across her fingers.

  Her heart felt as if it might leap out of her chest. “Let me find something to stop the bleeding.”

  “No!” Harper said. “We’re sticking together. That woman is insane. Caught me completely off guard when she grabbed a bronzed statue from that table over there and swung hard, as if her life depended on it. If I hadn’t ducked, it would have been much more than a graze. I pretended to be unconscious.”

  “She killed Dad and left him to rot in his office. Which way did Mom go?”

  “I don’t know,” Harper said. “She walked away, muttering something about how she should have taken care of the problem from the start.”

  “I think Sawyer is in the basement,” Aria said. “We need to get to her before Mom does.” Aria helped Harper to her feet, and together they rushed to the stairs leading to the basement. She flipped on the light and headed downward. Harper followed close behind.

  Aria called Sawyer’s name.

  A knock sounded from inside the crawl space.

  Harper went to the door leading inside the crawl space and tried to unfasten the padlock. “We need a key.”

  Aria stood at Harper’s side and knocked. “Sawyer, are you in there?” She put her ear flat against the door.

  The answer came in the form of a faint cry for help, followed by three distant knocks.

  “I’m going upstairs,” Harper said. “I think I know where she might keep the key.”

  “We need to find the key to get you out of here,” Aria told Sawyer.

  Another knock.

  “This is perfect,” Mom said from the top of the stairs. “So much easier to have you both in the same room.” She took one stair at a time. Grasped within her right hand was a pistol aimed at Harper, who had gotten as far as the first step.

  Aria could see the upper half of her mom above the railing. Her cheekbones were still a prominent feature, but her porcelain skin was now ashen. Dark shadows circled eyes that held no warmth. She’d always appeared tall, almost regal, to Aria, but now she looked shrunken, her shoulders slumped forward.

  “You killed Dad,” Aria said, hoping to throw her off her game and get her attention off Harper. “Why?”

  “I spent my entire life covering up for his mistakes,” Mom said, closing in on Harper. “I wasn’t going to let him ruin everything because of a momentary lapse in judgment.”

  “What are you going to do with his body?”

  “None of your concern.”

  Mom pulled a leather cord with the key from around her neck and tossed it over the stair rail to the floor. It landed in front of Aria’s feet. The hand with the gun remained steady.

  The room was small—nothing more than four cement walls. There wasn’t any place for Harper or Aria to run to.

  Aria bent over and picked up the key. Her own gun was tucked away in her waistband, but she couldn’t risk having Mom fire her gun in a panic.

  “Open the door and get inside the crawl space,” Mom ordered.

  “You don’t think people will wonder what happened to Dad?” Aria asked.

  Mom snorted. “The people of River Rock will believe whatever I tell them.” She gestured for Aria to get moving.

  “You can’t kill us all,” Aria told her as she inserted the key and purposely failed to open the lock. “Harper’s husband and all our friends know where we are. They’ll call the police and come looking for us. Turn yourself in before it’s too late.”

  Mom reached the landing and jabbed Harper with the gun. “Get inside the crawl space with your sister.”

  Harper walked toward Aria.

  Aria turned the key again. This time the lock came free, and she opened the crawl space door. She poked her head inside and saw Sawyer scooting her way. “She’ll never let us out,” Sawyer said, her voice hoarse.

  Aria knew that was true. She’d seen what Mom was capable of. She had killed her own husband, the person who had stood by her side for forty years.

  If she and Harper climbed inside, they would all die.

  Before Aria straightened again, she reached into her waistband for her gun. Then she pivoted on her feet, weapon aimed at her mom. She really did hope that Mom would listen and do as she said. Nobody should have to kill their own mother, but she would do it if she had to. She’d seen the pain someone like Joyce Brooks could cause. Justice would be served, one way or another. “Put your gun down or I’ll shoot.”

  Mom didn’t flinch. “You’ll never pull the—”

  Aria pulled the trigger.

  The sound was deafening.

  Mom’s eyes grew round with surprise. A tiny gasp escaped her before she toppled to the ground. The gun hit the floor and rattled a
round. Harper grabbed it, kept it pointed at Mom’s chest. Harper’s gaze met Aria’s. “It’s okay,” Harper said. “It’s okay.”

  Aria turned toward the tiny opening to help Sawyer out of the crawl space.

  They were all alive. Maybe Harper was right. Maybe it was okay. It might be a while before she knew for sure, but right now, she needed to do what she would have done if Uncle Theo hadn’t drugged her all those years ago . . . she needed to help her little sister.

  Sawyer could hardly stand, her legs wobbly like a newborn foal. She was caked with dirt. The side of her face was badly bruised. Her hair was tangled and matted. Pale and seemingly in shock, she asked in a raspy voice, “How did you know to come?”

  “You didn’t check in like you promised,” Aria said.

  Aria couldn’t take her eyes off Sawyer. A row of reddish-purple bruises circled Sawyer’s neck. She remembered the story Sawyer had told her about how the math teacher had attempted to strangle her to death.

  “What happened to your voice?”

  Sawyer held on to the wall for support while she found her balance. “I’ve been screaming for nearly two days. Where’s Melanie?”

  “Your friend is going to be okay,” Aria said.

  “I’m right here.” Melanie came halfway down the stairs, stopping when she saw their mother in a heap on the ground. Melanie didn’t look much better than anyone else standing in the cramped basement. “I called for help,” she said.

  Sirens sounded.

  “Come on,” Aria said. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “What about her?” Melanie asked, pointing at Mom.

  The bullet had struck her front and center, where limp hands still rested and blood seeped through long pale fingers.

  Harper felt for a pulse, then said, “Joyce is dead.”

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Sawyer, Harper, Aria, and Melanie had sat in the salon while Chief Schneider, Aspen, and another police officer Sawyer didn’t recognize made their way methodically through the house, careful not to touch anything as pictures were taken and an official account of what happened was pieced together and recorded.

  Melanie and Harper were attended to on-site while Chief Schneider took in both of their accounts, one at a time and in separate rooms, before they were taken to the hospital. After that, he’d talked to Aria and then Sawyer while his men gathered evidence and took pictures.

  A blanket covered Sawyer’s shoulders, stopping her from trembling as she sipped water. She was dehydrated, and her throat was still raw from crying out for help.

  Aria sat across from her, fidgeting in her chair. “Will I be arrested?”

  “No. Absolutely not. We were all there, Aria. You fired in self-defense.”

  “I hardly gave her a chance. I was so angry at her after finding out about Harper and knowing she did nothing to stop it from happening.”

  “You did the right thing. She would have killed Harper. If there was ever any goodness in her, it was gone. She’d fallen off the cliff long before you were forced to raise your gun. You saved our lives.”

  Chief Schneider walked into the salon, a stony expression on his face and dark circles around his eyes. “We’re almost done here. Aspen is gathering the bones from the crawl space. It’ll be a while before we know who they belong to.” He looked at Aria. “We’ll be keeping your gun for now, but no arrests will be made.”

  Aria’s shoulders fell in relief.

  The chief looked to Sawyer next. “You’re leaving in the morning?”

  She nodded. “If that’s okay?”

  “That’s fine. I’m going to finish polishing everyone’s account of what happened. Don’t leave here until I come by to get signatures.”

  “We won’t. Thank you, Chief.”

  Aspen and the other policeman showed up to let the chief know they had everything they needed.

  The house was quiet again.

  Harper returned home an hour later with twelve stitches at the back of her head. Melanie, Harper told them, had needed fifteen stiches across her forehead and was thinking about changing her name to Frankenstein.

  While Harper made makeshift beds for everyone to sleep in, Sawyer updated her sisters on everything that had happened during her visit, ending with her being in Dad’s office when Mom and Dad found her.

  They were all exhausted.

  “There,” Harper said, hands on hips. “It’ll be one big slumber party.”

  Harper had pulled in padding from the lounge chairs outside and then found every blanket and pillow in the house to make three beds.

  Sawyer took the bed on the end, surprised by how comfortable it was.

  Aria took the bed on the other end, leaving Harper with no choice but to sleep between them.

  They all lay there quietly in the dark until Aria broke the silence. “I knew Mom was crazy, but I never would have guessed she was capable of murder.”

  “She killed my best friend,” Sawyer said softly. “But I can’t wrap my mind around why she would have done such a thing.”

  “I don’t know,” Aria said. “But if Harper hadn’t recorded our conversation with Joyce when we were in the basement, I don’t know if Chief Schneider would have believed us. Joyce cast a strange spell over this entire town.”

  Sawyer was only half listening. She couldn’t stop thinking about Rebecca being trapped in the crawl space. She had talked to Aspen when he arrived with the chief. She’d made sure he knew where Rebecca’s bones were. Thirty minutes ago, he’d texted her to let her know the bones were being taken to the lab. It would be up to forensics to figure out whether or not it was Rebecca who had died there.

  “If Mom killed Rebecca, it would seem logical that she probably killed those other girls, including Isabella Estrada,” Harper said.

  “Do you think she was covering up for Dad?” Aria asked. “Had he touched them inappropriately at some point?”

  “I was eleven or twelve,” Harper chimed in, “when Peggy Myers was murdered. She used to come over to help me with my homework.”

  “What about Avery James?” Sawyer asked.

  Sawyer could hear Harper crying. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes,” Harper finally answered. “Avery came to the house too. Mom and Dad weren’t supposed to be home. But they were. I was only fifteen, but Dad asked me, begged me, to run something to the post office. Avery said she would do homework while she waited for me to return. When I came back, Avery was gone. Dad told me she’d gotten antsy and left. Avery treated me differently after that. She went out of her way to avoid me, but I never connected the dots until now. Dad must have taken advantage of her. That’s why he wanted me to go to the post office. He wanted to be alone with Avery.”

  “But you said Mom was home,” Aria said.

  “Mom did what she did best,” Harper said. “She turned the other way.”

  “And then she killed both girls to keep them quiet,” Aria said.

  “Even if that’s true,” Sawyer said, “we’ll never know for sure now that Mom’s gone.”

  Quiet fell around them. “We’re lucky we survived,” Aria said.

  “I read the letter you sent to Dad,” Sawyer told Harper. “I had no idea. I am sorry I’ve been so hard on you.”

  “We’ve all had a tough go of it,” Harper said.

  “It makes me sick,” Aria told Sawyer, “to think of you here all those years with Mom and Dad and Uncle Theo.”

  “If you had just stayed put and not run from the truck,” Harper said, her voice wistful.

  Sawyer had no idea what Harper was talking about. “Are you talking to me?”

  “Yes,” Harper said. “If you hadn’t jumped out of the truck and run back to the house as Uncle Theo was driving toward us, I might have had enough time to make you understand and convince you to come with us.”

  Sawyer swallowed a lump in her throat. “What are you talking about?”

  “The night Aria and I left River Rock,” Harper said.

  “I was in the
truck with you and Aria the night you escaped?”

  “You don’t remember?” Harper asked. “I never planned to leave without you. I kept you right there with me. Nate came as quickly as he could, but by the time he got there, we only had minutes to escape. I put you in the back seat of the truck, and then Nate had to help me get Aria from the house since Uncle Theo had drugged her. Earlier, before Uncle Theo left the house, I had to play it cool and pretend all was good; otherwise he might not have left. When we returned to the truck with Aria, you were crying and screaming, telling me you didn’t want to leave Mom and Dad. I told you it wasn’t safe at home, but you were furious. You started hitting Nate on the back of the head, so he put on the brakes. You jumped out and ran up the driveway, back to the house at the same time a car turned onto our road. Nate took off, and once I saw that it was Uncle Theo’s car, there was nothing I could do. If he’d caught sight of Nate or gotten his license plate number, game over. The police would have been called, and we would have been dragged back home.”

  Sawyer’s insides turned. She looked at Aria. “Why didn’t you ever tell me this?”

  “I was drugged,” Aria said. “I don’t remember any of it.”

  “I thought you knew,” Harper told Sawyer, “because you were there. I carried you from the house to the truck. I held you in my arms and told you how important it was for all of us to leave River Rock. You told me you didn’t want to leave Mom and Dad. You wanted to stay in River Rock, in your own home.”

  Sawyer swallowed a knot in her throat. “I have no memory of being in Nate’s truck. I only remember standing on the porch outside the front door and watching the truck disappear, knowing you were both inside. I never saw Uncle Theo pull into our driveway.”

  Aria spoke up then. “He never parked in front of the house because Mom yelled at him whenever his car got in the way of the garage. He’d made a habit of parking around back.”

  “He drove right past us that night,” Harper said. “I had ducked down the minute I saw headlights, and Aria was sprawled out on the back seat. Uncle Theo didn’t know Nate, and therefore he had no idea we were inside the truck.”