The Death Series: A Dark Dystopian Fantasy Box Set: (Books 1-3) by Tamara Rose Blodgett Read Free Book Online Page A

6
     
    Garcia pulled the patrol car into my driveway. “That's unique.”
    My house was a ranch style with cream-colored arches across the facade. The outer walls were stucco, really different for rainy Washington.
    Garcia got out and opened the back door of the car. As John and I climbed out, Mom came out the front door of the house.
    Garcia raised his hand out in an inoffensive way like, everything’s okay.
    She walked through the open courtyard that separated the driveway from the front door and came to stand in front of Garcia.
    “The kids aren't in any trouble, Mrs. Hart.”
    Mom told him, “Ali's fine.”
    “Okay, Ali. I’m Sergeant Garcia. The boys witnessed a vehicular accident in which a dog was hit, and I need to take down their statements with an adult present.”
    Mom's face looked relieved that some catastrophe (she was always ranting about my safety, which got to be annoying) had not befallen us.
    With Mom leading the way, we plodded inside. The house smelled like cookies and bread. John gave the air an experimental sniff, too.
    The Appetite Beast was alive and well.
    Garcia sat down on our couch with a psychedelically colorful afghan spread over it.
    “Would you care for anything to drink, Sergeant Garcia?” Mom asked.
    Garcia seemed surprised. “Ah, sure, thanks.”
    Mom went into the kitchen and came back with a glass of water that she handed to Garcia. Then she perched on the armrest of the couch. Mom usually made cookies once a week. Jonesy liked to show up just as they came out of the oven.
    As if I had just conjured him up, he walked through the door.
    “Hey, Caleb. What's with the cop car outside?” he asked loudly so there was zero chance to deflect it. His question landed like a bomb in the middle of the room.
    John cringed.
    Garcia turned to Jonesy. “Caleb witnessed an accident so I’m taking his and John's statements.”
    “No kidding? Well, I'm going to stay for this!” Seemingly unfazed by the cop in our living room, Jonesy asked Mom what she'd made.
    “Peanut butter chocolate chip cookies.”
    “Yes!” Jonesy pumped his arm up and down.
    Garcia smiled.
    For Jonesy, Garcia just happened to be in my house where Mom made cookies and there may be a cool story as a bonus.
    John glanced at me and shrugged.
    Garcia took a long gulp of water, then turned to John and me.
    “Okay, boys, let’s go over what happened.” He glanced down at his notepad. “You heard a screeching sound, then you saw Mr....” He tapped the notepad. “Mr. Smith's 2023 champagne-colored Ford Grun strike a dog.” He looked at me then at John.
    “Is this accurate, boys?”
    I was opening my mouth when Jonesy busted in with. “Did the dog die?”
    I gave an inward grown. Getting Garcia away from thinking about the strangeness of the dog was epic fail with Jonesy bringing attention to it. John was trying to alert Jonesy to shut up. That never worked. Jonesy was happily stuffing cookies in his mouth and slurping milk.
    “Yeah, that's accurate,” I replied.
    Garcia gave me the cop stare. Adults wanted kids to fill those awkward silences. That was where I'd get tripped up. Mom looked puzzled.
    “Now, it's interesting that you mention the dog,” Garcia said, “because Mr. Smith said that he was certain the dog had been killed.”
    My heart rate sped up, and my palms got damp. We'd already been over this. But here he was, bringing it up again. “No... no, he was still alive, barely.”
    Garcia smiled. “Okay, Caleb. There were some witnesses who said that you”—he glanced down at his notepad—man, was I beginning to hate that thing—“ laid hands on the dog, and it began breathing again.” He pierced me with eyes where the irises blended with the pupils, and I was suddenly reminded of Brett.
    “Maybe he was dead for a minute,” I said, choosing my words slowly, “but he must have revived or something.”
    Garcia didn't even pause. “One witness said when you touched the dog, there was an