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“Okay. What? What can a girl from Montana with highly respectable parents, siblings who are doing their best to make their place in society, and a typical midwestern upbringing hold as far as secrets? Granted, fleeing Seattle certainly adds credence to there being something that’s not quite right.”
Creed acted as if I’d insulted him, throwing open the back door of his Mercedes, yanking out a file and tossing it to me. “That’s putting it mildly. Her uncle is exactly like our father, or maybe you could consider him even worse.”
I caught it, refusing to look at it right away even though my curiosity was piqued. “What are you talking about?”
He leaned against the driver’s door of his vehicle, obviously pleased with himself. “The man is a grade-A bloodthirsty, manipulative serial killer. Tried and convicted as such. Now, I give her parents credit, especially Sara’s mother; they did their best to remove themselves from the situation, pretending the man was no longer part of the family once he was arrested. Yes, it came as a horrific shock to everyone, including what the police found lurking in the bowels of the man’s basement, outbuildings, and on his property. I can’t imagine the scrutiny the family went through right after he was arrested.”
“If this is true, why the fuck couldn’t I find this out?” I yanked open the file, flipping from page to page. Jesus. After the man’s arrest, he appeared happy, as if it was just another part of his scheme. While our father had rarely smiled, the eyes were the same. Hell, seeing Ronny Carlton’s arrest picture almost made me want to head to a mirror.
“The man was Sara’s mother’s half-brother, different father. From what I can tell from talking to my buddy up that way in Washington State, the press hounded the family at first, but the prosecutors managed to squelch a number of their leads, including names of Sara’s parents, because of threats received by the family and the fact too many details were being leaked to the press.”
“Shit,” I muttered. No wonder she was curious, not necessarily frightened of who and what I was. “She’s worried an apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
“There is some magic to that.” Creed was making light of the situation.
“Magic? There is no magic about brutal killers.”
“Even us?” Creed smiled as if catching me in a terrible lie.
“What a tragic thing for a family to go through. Huh?” Styx glanced from one to the other of us.
“Yeah. At least we were indoctrinated into understanding the reasons behind our father’s behavior. My guess is that Sara and her family had no clue who he was or what he was capable of.” Creed exhaled. “Maybe you’re right in that’s why she gravitated toward you, bro. She was trying to figure out how a member of her own family could possibly slaughter and dismember people.”
“Or maybe,” Styx interjected, “she simply has an excellent imagination, which will allow her to become an excellent writer. Either way, Easton obviously cares for her.”
“Maybe you’re both right.” I wouldn’t be able to deny it for long that she’d changed me, and in such a short period of time. I’d never thought it possible. What I had to admit was that I had it bad for the sweet and innocent girl, so much so I wanted this to be over with quickly.
The cravings I had for her were dark and some would say far too sadistic, but while I’d awakened or nurtured the dark part of her, she’d captivated the boy my mother had enticed and educated. However, what we shared could still be considered dangerous on multiple levels. Fuck. I had no idea what to say to her.
The silence and tension between all three of us was palpable.
“We need to get back to why we’re meeting. Who is this reporter?” I finally asked, although it was tough to take my mind off the complications knowing about her uncle could bring to the table. I had a feeling she was curious about the man, likely having spent at least some time with him when she was younger. Given her mother and father’s attempt at shutting out that part of her life, Sara had no method of coping with the situation.
How the hell was I supposed to help her given the man I’d been turned into?
“His name is Chase White. He’s a low-level player who was tipped off by someone. Now, if my sources are correct, he’s poised to present a news article that will attempt to lure the police back to this property. Someone has been providing him with enough feasible and plausible details I had no doubt if published, the Feds will be knocking at our doors.”
“And digging up your beautifully landscaped property,” Styx added.
The man had turned the hunting grounds into an oasis of sorts. “Will they find anything?”
Creed glanced toward the forest that we all knew so well. “No. Other than our mother’s shallow grave.”
“Whoa. Hold on. You dug up the bodies?” Styx asked, his face showing the same kind of shock I felt.
“By now they were mere bones and not tough to do since our father kept a fucking map of where he’d buried them like an idiot.”
“Where the hell did you find that?”
Creed snorted. “In a box in one of the attic compartments along with a hit list of sorts. The police would have had a field day.”
“He was keeping his own version of a trophy,” I mused.
“No, he had pieces and parts that only monsters enjoyed looking at.” Creed allowed the disgusting information to sink in.
“At least you handled the situation, but we would have helped.” Styx was being serious.
“There wasn’t enough time to coordinate a family operation. Bella was already getting far too curious about clues I’d dropped much like I take it you’re doing with Sara. I knew it was a matter of time before the scrutiny we’d face would ruin our lives. I couldn’t allow that to happen. What better opportunity to remove every aspect of the past than when designing a beautiful garden respite?” Creed grinned.
