Page 79 of Unpacking Secrets
Bysomeone,I realized with growing horror.
“Help!”
I shouted the word as loud as I could, over and over until Sally’s face appeared at the kitchen window. She raised a finger to signal she was on her way, then disappeared from view.
If Gramps had been like this for long, Juliet would've found him when she came outside and called for help. There wasn’t a chance in hell that she'd have left his side willingly.
Unless she was forced.
“You’re okay, Gramps,” I said, pulling out my phone to call Chief Roberts’ cell. “Chief, it’s Henry. I’m at the inn. We need an ambulance. Right now.”
“Slow down, Henry. Tell me what happened.”
The words tumbled from my lips. “I found Gramps in the garden. He’s bleeding and Juliet is gone. She wouldn’t have left the grounds on her own. Whoever did this took her.”
Roberts sucked in a breath. “Heller?”
“It has to be him, but where the hell would he take Juliet?”
Think.
I knew this area better than anyone, had grown up playing on this property and spent hours exploring the woods with Aaron after school.
Where would a killer with a long-standing grudge against the family take her?
My grandfather locked a hand around my wrist just as Sally and Mrs. Gregson reached us, dropping to the ground beside me.
“Woods,” he rasped. “To the woods. Go. I’ll be . . . fine. Go.”
The woods.
“He took her into the woods. Nan’s clearing—that has to be where they went.”
“Henry, I’ve got officers on their way. Stay where you are, do you hear me?”
I didn’t bother to respond, just ended the call and looked at the women next to me. “The ambulance is on its way. I’m going after her. Will you stay with him?”
They nodded, their shock swiftly giving way to efficient action as they dabbed gently at my grandfather’s bloody temple and began asking him questions.
I looked toward the woods as I rose to my feet, my mind racing. The police were on their way, but I was closer. Juliet couldn’t have been gone more than a few minutes before I got outside.
Choking back the panic, I took off at a dead run. I slowed only once I reached the treeline behind the cottage, pausing to listen for anything beyond birds singing and leaves rustling in the breeze.
“I’m coming, Red,” I whispered, wishing the vise grip on my heart would ease. “I’m on my way, just hang in there.”
As I strode deeper into the trees, I forced myself to focus. Heller had Juliet, but I’d read those articles. He didn’t kill his victims in a hurry. He must have something planned, some sick game in mind for her. But how the hell was I going to get her safely away from him?
I would find her. There was simply no alternative that I could live with.
Thirty-Two
Juliet
Thechimesanddancingcolors in Nan’s clearing lost their charm as I stumbled and fell to my knees beneath them.
My sketchbook, the one I lost at Cooper’s Point, lay open on the grass to my left. I blinked away the haze of tears to see a sketch of my mother—the vivacious, healthy version of her from my childhood, before illness robbed her of that. It was the last drawing I did during my final day in her house, a farewell to everything I was leaving behind to come to Spruce Hill.
“I hoped you would come down the path to me that day,” he said from behind me, “but the sketchbook was a nice consolation prize. It kept me company while I waited, along with her note to you.”
