Dark Mysteries by Jessica Gadziala Read Free Book Online Page A

and two pointed ears. Xander slid his fingers into the eye
holes and closed his fist. Sure enough, it was a weapon. The ears
could be used to stab at an assailant. Smart move.
    “I
need to get one of those,” the woman said, watching him. “Oh,
and sometimes she was holding something in her hand. A small bottle.
I don't know what it was. Maybe mace. Cant blame her. This is a rough
neighborhood.”
    Xander
grunted. It certainly wasn't a place he would want a woman in his
life to live alone.
    “I
dunno. I know this is presumptuous of me,” she started, looking
down at her feet, “but I get the feeling she was maybe abused
by someone once. Maybe a boyfriend or something. She was always just
so... aware of everything around her and nervous. I don't know if any
of this is helpful.”
    “More
helpful than you would think,” Xander said, slipping the
notebook into his back pocket. “Thank you for filling me in.”
God, there was nothing in the world more full of information than a
nosy neighbor.
    She
smiled tightly at him, moving back toward her door. “I hope it
helps her. She seems like a sweet girl.”
    Xander
nodded, reaching in his wallet for a card. “Here. If anyone
comes back here, call me immediately. Okay?”
    She
took the card, nodding and closed the door. Xander sighed, grabbing
the box and taking the stairs two at a time. He had a lot of thinking
to do on his stakeout later.

Five

    Ellie
locked the door behind him, watching the door for a minute as if she
expected it to burst open. She shook her head, moving to go sit on
the folding chair. She needed to calm down. So, he found her. He had
found her before. She would be fine. She was always fine.
    And
now she had Xander Rhodes on her side.
    She
leaned forward, elbows on her thighs and buried her head in her
hands. She felt the nausea rising in her throat. Out of guilt, she
realized with blinding clarity. She was literally sick with guilt for
getting him involved. Because if she had told him what she told the
other private investigators, there was no way he would want to take
the case. He would tell her to go to the cops. He would tell her he
couldn't put himself in that kind of danger.
    Especially
since she couldn't even pay him.
    If
he knew how dangerous this case really was...
    Ellie
jumped out out of the chair, feeling restless. She moved around the
office, straightening piles of paperwork. She peeked in and out of
cabinets until she finally found cleaning supplies. She spent the
next hour wiping down all the surfaces in the office with a rag and
multipurpose spray. She filled a bucket with hot, soapy water and,
not finding an actual mop, set off to scrub the floor on her hands
and knees.
    She
hadn't always been a neat freak. As a child and adolescent, she had
been quite a slob, throwing her clothes all over her room, books
scattered around everywhere, cobwebs hanging eerily in the corners of
her room like forgotten Halloween decorations.
    It
wasn't until... until him. In what it meant to be around him. The
utter powerlessness. She picked up cleaning, a small habit at first.
A need to have the surfaces in the bathroom clean. The dishes done.
It slowly evolved into an obsessive habit. A need to have every
surface spotless, every carpet vacuumed, every hard floor scrubbed.
Until her hands were raw from the hot water and bleach. Until she
wore holes in the knees of her pants.
    It
was the only thing she could control.
    She
got up a half an hour later, having backed herself into the hallway.
It was better, she thought, feeling the ever-present weight on her
chest slip slightly away. Moving into the bathroom, she repeated the
process. Spray, wipe, scrub. Spray, wipe, scrub. Until the skin under
her short fingernails was bleeding slightly.
    She
sighed, dumping the contents of the bucket and throwing away the
newly threadbare rag. She washed her hands, looking down at the tiny
hole she had worn in Xander's pajama pants. When she felt safe enough
to leave the office