Don't Scream

Chapter 49

For some reason Brian expected a dilapidated, ghost like Victorian structure on a hill like the Bates Hotel. Not at all. Brandon had grown up in a quaint, two story home nestled in the woods, probably built just after the depression. It had a big front porch, and remnants of flower beds along the walkways. The property was over grown, but in its day,  Brian thought with surprise, It might have been a lovely home.

Inside the same, neglected now, but once a home. Damien had sold off most of the furniture and any belongings that might have gave him a few dollars. But shadows of a family's life remained. There was a broken wooded table in the kitchen, and curtains still hang in the living room windows. Closet and drawers were empty. A couple of ancient receipts, A spare button a few pennies, and three rusted paper clips Brian found in one kitchen drawer.

Brian unfolded the receipts. One was for gas at Garner's he could barely make out the price of the gas, in the faded ink. The other receipt was for a package of cloth diapers.

He put the receipts back into the drawer and moved on. The only bathroom sat on the main floor. and three bedrooms two dormers upstairs  and one down stairs, they were empty except for a few pieces of furniture that had been not in so good shape to sell. Half the basement had looked to be finished off to be another bedroom, the floor had carpet  with indention's where a double bed had sat, and a broken nightstand was sitting against the wall. Grandpa's room. Brian thought, but wasn't sure why.

"Phil wandered in as Brian tugged open the nightstand drawer. An old bible sat inside.

"Anything?" Phil asked.

"Not really." He said picking up the bible.

Phil let out a long breath. "If Brandon was gonna come here, he would have done it already. When he  killed  Damien. Maybe. He wouldn't come back now."

"Unless he is planning to bring Sarra here."

Phil shook his head. "He's gotta know we were watching it."

Brian thumbed through the pages of the bible. The first page was missing, torn out. He frowned, trying to think what was on the first page of the bible... an inscription or dedication, maybe? Owners name?

His phone rang. "Fuller", he said setting down the Bible.

" Hey this is Gonzo." The Panama city agent  with the skinny glasses. "Where are you?"

" Over at the house Brandon James lived in. Damien's property."

"Good sheriff Parker just put me on a lead  a guy who knew Brandon back when. Wanna come?"

"Say where."

Where was a nursing home home ten miles from where they were on the way toward panama city.

"Its Tim Watts, the guy who was sheriff whe Brandon's little sister disappeared." Gonzo said. leading them down a wide sterile hallway. In the last room on the right Tim Watts sat in a wheelchair his fingers tapping on the arms. A big man once upon a time he had lost his bulk to inactivity of the chair. His jaws hung empty, his skin blue veined.

"Don't underestimate him." whispered Gonzo, giving the old man a wink. "He will chew you up and spit you out."

Brian smiled Sure enough the old sheriff's eyes were sharp as tacks. "Sheriff Gonzo," Brian said and shook his hand. He was surprised by the strength in it.