Page 30 of Sinister Secrets

“You too, Cassie.”

“It’s Cassidy.”

“You have a great place here, Cassie.”

She ignores the correction. It shouldn’t be a huge deal, but it is. Only Jake calls me Cassie. No one else, no matter how close we are, does.

But why is that? Is it just one more defense I use to keep people at a distance so I don’t make a mistake trusting them? I hate that this case has me questioning everything now.

“I’m just so excited.” Chelsea gives a small squeal, bouncing up and down on her toes. “This couldn’t be better timing. I’ve been stuck in a really bad living situation. I don’t think I could have taken one more day of it, to be honest. It’s such a relief to leave. I’m just so, so grateful to you both.”

She throws her arms around my neck, giving me a tight squeeze. A lump rises in my throat, putting pressure on the tears I’d worked so hard to push down. Her hair tickles my chin, fills my lungs with the scent of her strawberry shampoo and a strange mix of loss and longing. She presses a kiss to my cheek before releasing me.

“I have all my stuff in my car. Where will I be staying?”

I give Jake a concerned look. What exactly did he tell her? He widens his eyes at me, giving me a small shake of his head.

“I think that there’s been some kind of misunderstanding,” I say slowly. “The trailer isn’t ready yet.”

“What?” She looks absolutely stricken.

“I’m very sorry. The date of availability on the posting is the twenty-fourth. That’s two weeks from now.”

“But I just gave up my room. Where am I going to stay until then?”

“Maybe it’s not too late to get your room back. They couldn’t have found someone new so soon.”

Although in all fairness, it’s been less than six hours since I put the notice on the board and we already found a tenant.

“You don’t understand. There’s no way I can go back.”

“Maybe if—”

“No, they told me. My roommates said that after giving them such short notice, there’s no way I can ever go back.” Her voice hitches, face turning red, eyes gone liquid as she says, “What am I going to do? I’m homeless.”

Something in my heart wrenches. I’m not what you’d consider a touchy-feely person. Or a hugger. I like my physical boundaries drawn deep in the sand—preferably the quick kind—between me and whichever stranger intends to cross them. But I find myself putting an arm around this woman whom I’ve just met to comfort her.

Exchanging a look with Jake over her head, I say, “Maybe we can put you up somewhere while we’re waiting for the plumbing to be finished in the trailer.”

“Plumbing? That’s all that’s not ready?” she asks, lifting a hopeful expression through her tears.

I nod.

“I don’t need plumbing.”

“There’s no way to shower. Or use the toilet,” I say.

“I can use the shower at the gym. And I’ve been camping before, if you don’t mind if I use the woods. Please… I won’t be any trouble, I promise. All I need is a safe place to sleep.”

The words I don’t think so are on the tip of my tongue. I feel bad for her, I really do, but this is a horrible idea. So why is it that when I open my mouth, okay comes out instead?

“Oh, thank you, thank you!” she exclaims. “You won’t be sorry.”

But a part of me already is. It feels like a rash decision. Things are moving too fast. Why did I say okay?

Running the conversation back through my mind, I realize it was the word safe that got me. She’d said that all she needed was a “safe place to sleep,” which implies that at some point in her life, she slept somewhere that wasn’t, and while it probably wasn’t a serial killer’s basement, I can’t help but empathize. I just hope her past doesn’t still haunt her, because this place is already full with my own ghosts.

CHAPTER 18