Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 68736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Behind, I hear the sound of tires crunching into the lot. I whip around, seeing cop cars approaching, but I don’t stop. I just need to get to my boys.
The sounds of a foot on metal rings out. As I round the trailer, I find Sawyer and Cary disappearing into the trailer, and I follow, but as I get there, I hear Scott say “He’s not here,” and I have to grip onto the side of the trailer to stop my knees from going out beneath me.
Cary emerges into the sunlight, blinking as he sees me. “They’re already gone,” he says. “Seems like they packed up, although it’s hard to tell, it’s such a shit hole in there.”
“We’re going to find them,” Sawyer says. “They can’t have gotten far.”
“They don’t have to have gotten far,” Scott says. “Just far enough that we won’t know which way to go.”
“They have a cousin over in Coldsville,” a woman’s voice says from the other side of the trailer. I immediately make my way around, finding an older woman leaning through the window of her trailer. “I heard them saying they’d take the dog over there. They’re planning on asking for money before they return him.”
“Do you know where in Coldsville or his name…anything?” I’m panting, resting my hands on my legs to try to breathe deeply.
“No, but he’s probably as big and ugly as those assholes. Shouldn’t be too hard to find.”
Her grin is kind of wicked looking and then she slams her window closed as though she doesn’t want to be seen talking to us.
When I turn, the Bradfords are behind me, and then two police officers.
“They’ve taken the dog to Coldsville,” I say breathlessly.
“Where?”
“I don’t know. A cousin.”
“Listen, I want you to go with one of the cops. Go back to the house and show them what’s missing,” Scott says to me. His eyes flick away from my face quickly, settling on the nearest police officer. He’s young, maybe around the same age as me. “Melanie will talk you through the theft.”
He nods and jerks his head to tell me to accompany him back to his vehicle. We’re passed by Cary, Sawyer, and Scott, who jog back to their truck, closely followed by the other police officer.
I know what Scott’s doing. He wants me out of his car and out of his hair. He can’t even bear to look at me. My throat is tight with unshed tears, but I’m going to hold it together because that’s all I can do right now.
There will come a time later when I can cry, when I’ve left Hard Valley Ranch behind.
30
Back at Flint house, I show the officer everything, discovering just how much damage Jethro Flint and his brother have caused. The front door, which was beautiful, old, solid wood, has been hacked open. I don’t think there will be any chance of saving it.
So much is broken in the kitchen that I’m barely holding it together, and when we walk past Big Boy’s empty bed, I start to cry.
“I’m sorry.” I swipe at my tears with my sleeve, mortified to crumble in front of the officer who already looks uncomfortable being alone in my presence.
“It’s okay. Just try to stay calm,” he says, jotting things down in his little notebook. In the den, so many picture frames have been swiped from shelves and knocked from the walls. There are glass shards everywhere. The TV has been smashed with something sharp-ended. The couches were slashed with a knife. Literally, everything is damaged.
Upstairs, it’s just as bad. Mattresses have been flipped, laptops are missing, and my phone is gone. Thank goodness my photos are backed up to the cloud, or I’d be devastated. What am I saying? I am devastated. Our home has been vandalized and violated. This place, which was such a sanctuary just this morning, has been ruined.
And it’s not just about the possessions. It’s about the severing of the connections between us all. Connections that had just started to fuse. I slump onto the chair in my room, looking around at the mess of my underwear strewn across the floor. I don’t even have the energy to blush when I catch the officer looking at my panties and bras. This is so beyond childish shame. It’s so far beyond that I feel the crazy urge to laugh.
My life has become a rollercoaster of highs and lows. It’s gone from one that is predictable to one that is filled with excitement, drama, and devastation. Everything is so out of control, including my emotions.
“Is there anything else you know about?” the officer asks.
“No, that’s it as far as I know. It’ll be worth talking to Cash later about the paperwork and if any hidden valuables are missing. I only know so much about the house. I haven’t been here long.”