Chills & Thrills Paranormal Boxed Set by Connie Flynn Read Free Book Online

didn't betray it. She just
did as he suggested and the door swung open.
    She took a step forward, then stopped. "Oh."
    Zach's nerves were already primed for danger, and he
instinctively nudged Liz out of the doorway and entered in front of her.
    He'd expected mayhem. Instead he saw a typical Cajun living
room. The furniture had changed since he'd last been there, but not much—just
different patterns covering the plump cushions on the cypress sofa and chairs,
and a recliner he didn't recall. The crucifix still hung over the simple oak
mantel, and the wrought-iron rack that held the fireplace tools was the same
one Frank himself had welded almost twenty-five years before.
    Liz squeezed past him. "Goodness, Zach. You act like
you were expecting an ax murderer." Inside, she turned to look back.
"I'm sorry. I meant it as a joke. It's only . . ."
    She swung her arms helplessly.
    "It's only—the tortoise-shell table is gone. And
where's the oak sideboard Mama kept the dishes in?" She gazed around
wistfully. "Silly isn't it? How could I expect everything to be just the
way I left it?"
    "In case you haven't noticed, the kitchen's moved,
too." He glanced at an archway leading to another room. He moved to enter
the curved opening, then stopped. "Uh-oh."
    He turned to look at her, hoping his expression didn't
reveal his shock. But she looked as unflappable as ever, merely quickening her
step and peering around his body.
    Another quiet "Oh," left her mouth, but other than
that, and the faint tightening of her jaw, she calmly surveyed the mess.
    The sideboard was still around after all, but overturned,
and its shattered doors lay open. Blue pottery dishes were spilled on the
ground, some so badly crushed, they'd turned to rubble. And there were jars,
dozens and dozens of clear glass jars, many of which were also broken. Crumbled
leaves and twisted roots mingled with the pottery dust.
    Liz walked slowly into the kitchen, crouching beside the
pile of glass Zach stepped in after her, his toe brushing an unbroken jar. It
rolled, struck another jar, which also rolled to strike another, which struck
another. The floor became filled with rolling jars, clicking and clanking in a
crazy domino effect. One of the larger ones tumbled like a hamster's wheel,
then came to rest at Liz's feet. She looked down at it dispassionately.
    "Who on earth could have done this?" she asked.
Softly, unemotionally, completely without feeling.
    "I expected you to be more upset by finding your folk's
place trashed," he said. "Most people would be."
    She looked up, her eyes clear. "It is what it is.
Nothing I can do now, except clean it up. I learned that lesson a long time
ago."
    If Zach had harbored any hope that Izzy still existed, this
response wiped it away completely. Izzy would have burst through the front door
the minute her father hadn't answered. She would have wailed out her despair in
the face of this destruction. Izzy wouldn't have talked business on a cell
phone at her mother's wake. She would have stayed at the cemetery, throwing
herself on her mother's rain-wet vault, pounding and sobbing loud enough to
wake the dead.
    Maybe your pa did it, Zach thought. Maybe your pa killed
your ma, your grandma. Maybe he even killed my funny, loyal,
too-courageous-for-his-own- good kid brother and that poor sonuvabitch whose
biggest crime was holding an ounce and a half of cocaine. Maybe there is an ax
murderer, and maybe his name is Frank Deveraux.
    Some part of him wanted to say all that, and if he'd had
more booze inside his belly, he might have. But he didn't. Could be that he was
too good an investigator to forget you couldn't judge a man by how he reacted
to tragedy. Could be that some of his early optimism about people had survived
the loss of Jed. So he kept his peace. But that didn't change the connection
between Frank and his brother, and someday he might be forced to speak those
words, regardless of his present restraint.
    He remained silent as Liz picked