Nine Hours

Chapter 16

"Gods! Cassie! Talk to me!" I pound on the door as my heart pounds in my chest. What the hell has flipped the woman out? The journal? I explained it as best as I could at the time. Her sobs echo through the door. She's coming apart. Totally apart. As much as I want to, I can't get to her. It doesn't take much to figure out she's pushed furniture in front of the door, barricading herself. Whatever happened, whatever she thinks she saw, Cassie is completely terrorized by something, and I needed to know what.

Banging on the door isn't getting the results I need. For a good ten minutes I pace the hallway, listening to her cry and beg on the other side of the door. Frantic, I check my room and the living room for anything amiss, any kind of clue to what sent her reeling. After circling the living room three times, I stop at the window where she had been crouched.

Then, I see it. Hells.

My gut twists as if wound in barbed wire. Cassie saw me filling the hole. Puzzle pieces rapidly click into place, my own careless words haunting me. "I've taken care of Mario."

No. She couldn't have thought that. Could she? Yes. She could. Gods, what a mess.

In a heartbeat, I grab my phone. "I need you. It's bad. Very bad. Bring Karla." Minutes feel like hours until they walk through the front door.

"Ah, son. What have you done?"

I hug Pappa and and kiss Karla on the cheek. "Thank you for coming so quickly."

The moment I finish explaining the situation, Pappa goes from solemn to a full-on belly laugh.

"Pappa!"

"I'm sorry, son. We'll get it sorted out, I promise. There is no other option. However, I must say, I've never seen a man make such chaos out of the simple task of courting a woman." He shakes his head. "Karla, let's get her calmed down."

Before Karla moves, she glares at both of us. "You men are all alike. Idiots of the first degree. It's a wonder any of you find a woman who will stick with you." She swings on Pappa. "Your courtship with Britta wasn't much better. I seem to recall someone spending a night or two in the jailhouse."

I raise an eyebrow at Pappa. "Is that so? I'm just learning this?"

"Not now," he grumbles. "Karla, shall we?"

Muttering more words about stupid men, Karla leads the way to the bedroom and taps on the door.

"Cassie, dear. It's Karla. Can you hear me?"

A scratchy, scared, but calmer voice answers. "Karla?"

"Yes, dear. Come to the door so I can talk to you for a moment, please."

There are soft sounds of movement.

"Is...is Gunnar there?"

"Yes. Gunnar the fool is here, as is Lars."

"Lars? I thought..."

"His father is Lars, as well. Dear, I'm afraid there has been a tremendous misunderstanding today. I can't say I blame you, either." She narrows her eyes at me. I start to defend myself, but Karla shushes me with a mean stare. "Quiet, Gunnar. You've made enough of a mess for one day. Let me talk to the poor girl. Lars. Go make tea."

A stifled giggle comes from the other side of the door, easing my torment ever so slightly.

"Dear, I don't know how to say this delicately, but...Gunnar is under the impression you think he was burying a body in his yard."

A choked sob. "Mario..."

"Good lord, no. Thor. He was burying his dog. Thor."

"He doesn't have a dog. And, that was no dog. That was a person." Her voice cracks.