Page 17 of Ghost Hunted

“Okay.” I’m terrified, suddenly, of ending this conversation on a negative note. What if…? “Okay,” I say again, trying this time to put a lot more warmth in my voice. “You’re going to be a good girl, Piper—”

“I’m not a child.”

“You’re going to be a good woman, Piper, and Quill is going to take good care of you, and everything will work out perfectly. Now, Everest tells me there are two houses here. That two-story stone cottage the woman gave you the address to, and a little cabin a few feet away. Probably some sort of gardening shed or something. I’m going to head out there, and then I’ll send you a text message as soon as I have a clear view of the house. If there’s no window, I’ll have to find some other place, but it’ll be on that side. See?” I point in the direction of the cabin Everest found on the map. “Don’t get out of the car until I text you. And don’t go inside the house. Draw whoever it is outside, so I can shoot if necessary.”

“It won’t be necessary. She’s my—”

“Shh, Piper. Just let him do this. Okay?” Quill murmurs the words in her ear while running his hand up and down her spine, and she sighs.

“Okay.”

I open the car door as quietly as possible and creep out, trying not to make any sound. But whoever is waiting must have eyes on us. Cameras, or armed men hiding. Goosebumps prickle over my back. I can’t even begin to understand this situation, and it’s freaking me out.

All I can do is hope that whoever set up the trap knew I would come. They must have expected it. If so, I’m their target. Not Piper.

That’s fine; I can handle being a target. I’ve been a target for much of my life.

I just can’t handle my daughter being one.

If Quill lets anything happen to her, I swear to god…

Fuck me. Why are there no trees in this godforsaken land?

I try to stay hidden, ducking under rocks, crawling through grass as I head toward the shed, but there’s just no way they don’t see me—if they’re watching.

Suddenly I feel something wet under my hands. Despite the vividly green, lush grass that tells me this place gets a lot of rain, today, the ground is dry. Except for the one spot right under my hands. I look down, and have to bite down on my tongue so I don’t let out a cry of surprise.

Rivulets of murky red trickle through the dirt, dyeing the grass a sickening shade of crimson.

Blood—that’s what it is. Blood.

And it’s coming from the shed.

What the fuck?

Still crouching, I grab the gun from my holster and angle it at the cabin. Despite the red tinging the ground, I try to lie as flat as possible.

Swallowing my nerves, I creep around to the other side, still on my hands and knees. Then I stand up and kick in the old wooden door.

It breaks in a loud cracking noise, splintering off its hinges and falling backward into the shed, stopped by some large object on the ground.

I don’t even have to look to know what kind of object it is.

A dead body, the source of the blood dyeing the Irish countryside red.

But what I don’t expect is the face that stares up at me unseeingly when I flip it over.

What… the… fuck?

She said she killed her father.

No. Impossible. It can’t be, and yet—

I turn to the window, and a strangled cry leaves my throat when I see Piper and Quill walking toward the cottage.

No! What the fuck? What about the plan? The message? I could strangle that girl. I could fucking strangle her. And him… I am going to strangle him.

They must think they’re invincible. They must think they’re on top of the world. Just like I did once, before it all came crashing down.