Sappy Heartwood

4. It Got Stuck.

Let your imagination set you free.

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Chapter Four

It Got Suck

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I couldn't stop the loud gasp leaving my throat or the tears forming in my eyes; I tried to hold them back, but they spilt down my cheeks like a river bursting its banks.

Mrs Smith is...I can't bring myself to say the word.

"No, no, no, no!" Stumbling backwards, my back hit a table on which Rachel and her mum used to make lamingtons.

My hands grabbed the corner for support, briefly closing my eyes. A headache engulfed me as images suddenly rushed through my head. I couldn't make sense of them at first. But I momentarily thought I saw Rachel being tossed over someone's shoulder like a doll, and her phone dropped under a bush somewhere in the backyard. Then Mrs Smith was stabbed in her abdomen, and I felt the excruciating pain.

It was intense, like no pain I had ever experienced from a vision or premonition before.

"Shit knuckles!" I rubbed my temples, and then realisation hit me. "Oh my god, Rachel!"

"How did you get in here?"

"Ahh!" I turned around so quickly that I almost slipped on the kitchen tiles, and my head still swirled with pain. My heart was already beating rapidly in my chest, and this person, I swear, was attempting to kill me. "Are you trying to give me a hea—"

Oh my.

Detective Dirty Daddy Daniels stood in all his glory at the doorway leading from the hallway where Mrs Smith lay motionless. His eyes were fixated on me, and not in a good way. "You!" It took him three steps to stand in front of me. I swallowed. "It's you!"

"Me?" I played innocent. "Why, Sir, I have no idea what you could mean."

For a moment, he seemed dazed. Straightening up, the detective took one step backwards. "Do not play games with me. What are you doing here?"

"That is none of your business." Technically, it is, I suppose. Sighing, I ran a hand through my blonde hair. "Because Mrs Smith is lying dead in the hallway out there! And her daughter, my best friend, is missing!"

"Missing?" He raised a brow, and I almost died. How is it possible that a simple facial gesture can make your heart skip a beat? "Rachel Smith is not missing; she is attending university. Now, explain what you're doing in an active crime scene?"

Is he deaf or what?

"I already told you, my best friend's mum was murdered, and her daughter is—"

"Detective? Shall I arrest her?" A male officer, whom I didn't realise was standing behind Mr Smarty pants, asked. The look the officer received from the detective said more than words. "I'll go see if they found any forced entry then." And he disappeared through the doorway.

The detective turned his attention back to me. "I'm waiting for an answer, Miss Summers."

"You'll be waiting an awfully long—how do you know my name?" I questioned, but my answer came from his eyes, which shifted downwards to my chest. Following his gaze, I mentally facepalmed myself. "Oh, that." Carefully, I unpinned the name tag from my shirt and placed it in my jeans pocket. "What did you say again?"