The constant crying of Biscuit woke me up. My head throbbed painfully, as did my jaw, and my stomach rolled violently. I was barely able to shove my head over the side of the bed before vomiting.
Groaning, I sat up and tried to remember how much I’d had to drink. Things were missing, though. I had a great memory, so not being able to remember anything after meeting Mack’s friends caused me to panic. I forced my eyes open and a scream ripped from my throat.
The excruciating pain in my head cut it short, but internally, nothing would stop the scream and fear bouncing around my head.
I was lying in a pool of blood. My hands and arms were covered, as was the sheet that was over my naked body. Next to me was the back of a man. From where I was, I could see at least six deep stab wounds puncturing his flesh.
I scrambled from the bed and edged my way around it to see his face. More stab wounds met me and I raised my hand to cover my mouth, but it was covered in blood. His face was mostly unharmed, but I didn’t recognize him. His eyes were wide open, the look of death frozen there, while his mouth was open, like he’d gone in the middle of a scream.
I stumbled backwards and caught myself on the doorframe, leaving a bloody handprint. Frantically, I tried to force back the memories from the night before. I couldn’t remember drinking. I couldn’t remember anything. It was like someone had cut out that part of my brain.
Another roll of nausea hit me and I tried to make it to the bathroom, but failed. Leaning against the doorway into the bathroom, I shook my head. Nothing was right. I didn’t even know the man in my bed. What was going on?
I forced myself to move through the pain in my head and searched the rest of the house, trying to figure out what was happening. There was no sign of anyone else. The door was locked, my phone was resting on the kitchen counter, the coffee maker even chirped to its timed life while I stood in the living room, staring around.
My panic grew as Biscuit’s crying increased from outside. I suddenly felt like a child, lost and confused. I knew what I was supposed to do if I was a cop, but as a civilian, standing in a bloodbath, my brain wasn’t working.
I grabbed my phone from the kitchen and dialed Ramsey. I needed help.
After four rings, he picked up. “Rain? What the hell? It’s six in the morning.”
“There’s a dead man in my bed. I don’t remember anything, Captain. I don’t know what to do.”
Instantly, his voice was clearer. “Call the cops, Rain. I’m on my way. I’ll bring your lawyer, too.”
“I don’t have a lawyer.”
He swore as he said something to someone in the background. “You do now. Ginny will help you with whatever you need through this.”
I closed my eyes and failed at keeping the tears out of my voice. “Thank you. I don’t know what happened. I think I was drugged.”
“If they try to take you into the station, demand that they take you to the hospital and preform a rape kit. Have them test you while you’re there. If they don’t take you in, we’ll have it taken care of when we get there. I’m not sure how hands on I’ll be able to be, because of the job, but Ginny will help.”
His wife was one of the best defense attorneys in Texas, which had caused problems for them at times, but it would really help me out in that moment.
“I’ll call the cops now. I’m sorry, James.”
“I’d say it’s just one of those things, but I think we both know that’s a lie. You’ve had an especially bad range of luck lately, Rain. We’ll figure it out, though. I know you didn’t do this.”
I’d needed to hear him say that. Sobs shook my body for a few seconds before I could get it under control. “See you soon.”
He hung up and I called 9-1-1 to report that I’d just woken up and found a body in my house. The operator’s voice didn’t change, but I couldn’t help but read into the silence as she arranged for police to come to my house.
I’d just become a Law and Order case. How common was it for someone to wake up next to a dead body and have no memory of it? On TV, it seemed like it happened once a month, but I couldn’t help but feel like that number was hugely exaggerated. Otherwise, I might be able to find a support group for my situation close by the island.
I hung up after the operator assured me the cops were on the way and forced myself to pull on a robe that Kevin had left behind. Oversized and smelling like something I recognized from a calmer time, it let me calm down enough to look around.
I didn’t move anything, but I forced myself to look at it through a detective’s perspective. I’d worked alongside some of the best people in Texas. I knew what I was doing.
I leaned over the bed as far as I could and looked at the wounds. The wounds on the front of his body matched the ones at the back, probably all made with the same weapon. There were no wounds on his arms or hands, making me think that he’d either been tied up or unconscious when the wounds were delivered, because there didn’t seem to be a struggle, despite the horror that his mouth proclaimed. Probably tied up, then.
My phone rang and it was the same 9-1-1 operator. “Ms. Willows, the cops are trying to get to you, but the road across to your house seems to be flooded. The cops are going to be there as soon as they can.”
The tide must’ve still been across the road. I heard Biscuit’s whimpers increase and guilt ate at me. I took pictures of my hands with my phone and then washed them before going outside to sit with Biscuit. He’d destroyed every toy he had out there and part of the fence. He seemed more agitated than ever and I realized he’d dumped his food and water bowl over in the chaos.
“What happened last night, Biscuit?”
He burrowed his face in my robe and whined, his little heart pounding against my hand as I petted his chest.
I pressed my face against his neck and breathed in his scent. I had to be able to think if I was going to figure out what had happened. I hadn’t killed the man in my bed. I wasn’t a murderer. And with the way I couldn’t remember anything, I knew I’d probably been drugged. I’d worked enough cases to recognize the signs.
While I was glad to know that I hadn’t blacked out and killed someone, the alternative left me shaking. Someone had been in my house. Someone had murdered a man right next to me in bed and covered me in his blood while I was naked.
The thought sent chills rolling up and down my body. It didn’t make sense. Why go through such an elaborate set up? If it was Sallisaw, why not just take me or kill me? I’d been asking that since the beginning, though.
While he’d been running around, killing my witnesses, why not just kill me? In a previous life, I would’ve thought it was because I was such a good cop that I couldn’t be captured, but I’d been corrected in that thinking the hard way.
Had it been Sallisaw? I hadn’t seen a murder weapon. Was it a large piece of broken glass?
Movement from down the beach caught my attention and I saw Mack staring out at the ocean. I cuddled Biscuit to my chest harder and then blew out a rough breath. I was going to need someone to watch over the puppy.
I was lucky enough that whoever had killed the man in my bed hadn’t hurt him while they were in my house. Looking at Mack, standing there with his cane, I felt lucky that they hadn’t hurt him, too.
I strode down the beach and cleared my throat.
Mack jumped and looked over at me. His eyes went wide and he took a step towards me. “Rain… What happened?”
I kissed Biscuit on the top of the head and pushed him into Mack’s arms. “I don’t know. Do you know what happened to me last night? I’m sure the cops will ask you when they finally arrive, but I’d like a head start at filling in the blanks.”
He frowned at Biscuit and lightly touched the side of my head. “You’re all banged up. You disappeared last night. You went to the bathroom and then never came back. I was worried about you, but the bartender said he’d watched you take a call and leave. I was going to come pester you about it this morning. You don’t remember or…”
I shook my head. “Mack, something happened. I don’t remember anything and I woke up next to a dead man.”
He quickly dropped Biscuit into his yard on the other side of the fence and marched towards my house. “Come on. The cops will be another half hour or so before the road clears.”
Instincts kicked in and I hurried alongside him. “Mack, you can’t go in there. It’s a crime scene.”
He scoffed. “Cop for fifty years, remember? I know not to touch anything. Chances are I can identify the man if he’s from the island, though. I want to know what we’re dealing with.”
“I don’t think you do.”
He looked at me and frowned. “Got an unsavory perp you’re running from, huh?”
I bit my lip and watched as he let himself in the back door and hurried towards the bedroom. “Something like that.”
He looked into the room and swore. Moving carefully around the bed, he looked up at me with a frown on his face. “That’s the bartender from the bar, Rain. I saw you have one beer last night while I was watching. You were driving us, so you wouldn’t have more. There’s no way you were drunk enough to not remember last night. That beer must’ve been drugged. Naturally, I’d assume that this piece of shit drugged you, but normally, the man who does the drugging isn’t the one who ends up looking like a pincushion.”
My brain worked. “Do you know him from around town?”
Mack nodded. “Enough. Billy Flowers. He wasn’t high in moral standing. He’s known to pull anything for a few extra bucks. He nearly killed himself, stealing copper from a telephone pole, a few years ago. Never known him to try to drug a woman, though. Susan, the bar’s owner, wouldn’t have let him stay on if there was even a whisper of a rumor.”
I didn’t like it. “So this was out of character for him and he likes easy money.”
Mack nodded. “Someone else would’ve put him up to this.”
I swallowed. “And then killed him to tie up loose ends?”
“If this is about messing with you, Rain, I’m sure that whoever did it probably already had this little shit show planned out.” He met my eyes and shook his head. “It’s a lot of trouble and risk to go through for a grudge. You okay?”
I heard the sound of sirens and ushered Mack to the backdoor. “Doesn’t seem like it, does it?”
He patted my hand. “I’ll talk to Mrs. Miller about getting you moved to another house when you’re free. She’s married to a cop. She’ll understand.”
I shook my head. “Maybe I should go back to Dallas.”
Mack rolled his eyes. “Don’t like that quitter talk. Hurry up and get this sorted out. I don’t have enough underwear left to keep Biscuit for longer than a couple of days. This works, though. I can Skype with Karen and show her the damn thing. She’s been suspicious that I gave him away.”
“You did give him away.”
“And that’s our little secret.” He winked at me, never seeming to be bothered, no matter what was thrown his way. “You get up to the front door and look at upset as you feel. A little hysteria never hurt anyone.”