Page 41 of The Vanishing Wife

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Page 41 of The Vanishing Wife

Friday, September 20

10:40 a.m.

She was almost finished.

By the time she was done, there wouldn’t be a single piece of evidence left behind to place her in this house. Elyse swiped her forearm against her cheek, catching sweat in its track down her face. Then checked her watch. Samuel Thornton hadn’t come home last night. Another upset in his routine. Though this one was significantly different than staying up past his bedtime. Giving her the opportunity to scrub every surface in this house clean of her DNA. Leigh had once told her suspects always left pieces of themselves behind at a crime scene, and they ended up taking a piece of the scene with them. Locard’s exchange principle. When she was finished, police would never be able to connect her to what was about to happen in this house.

But Ruby Davis wasn’t here.

She’d searched the entire property. Multiple times. Each attempt more desperate than the last, and she wasn’t sure her heart could handle another disappointment.

Hints of vinegar and lemon essential oil tickled the back of her throat. In her experience, the odor wouldn’t stick around long. She finished wiping down the fireplace mantel, crouching to get better leverage at the bottom. To find her phone cast among the ashes behind the glass. A disbelieving laugh begged for release as she shifted her weight to get a better view. The son of a bitch must’ve seen her bury it on Tuesday morning. Unearthed the evidence she was sure to use against him. He’d recognized her. Known exactly how to mess with her head.

It was fitting, really. The phone almost represented everything she was before this family vacation. Straight, narrow, reliable. Now it was nothing more than a charred brick of hard angles and eroded insides. Raw and used. Something foreign he hated. And all Samuel Thornton had done by destroying it was condemn himself farther.

A thud registered from outside, shocking her system back into the moment.

Elyse shoved to stand, the spray bottle in one hand and a damp rag in the other. Maneuvering to one of the windows over the driveway, she took in the red pickup truck. And the man of the house. Her nerves threatened to get the best of her, but she’d thought every detail through.

Samuel Thornton hid his face underneath a ball cap she hadn’t seen him wear until today. He rounded to the back driver’s side door of the pickup. Effectively blocking her view of him for a moment. She could just make out his outline through the tinted window and the curve of the door.

To watch him pull something large and heavy from the backseat.

Black tarp fluttered with the constant breeze coming off the water. Samuel Thornton took the brunt of the tarp’s weight, stumbling back. And for just a moment, Elyse could’ve sworn she saw a hand slip free of the plastic cage.

In the next second, it was gone as Thornton disappeared beneath the house. Vibrations shook through the kitchen floor. Directly over the storage room.

“Ruby.” She shoved away from the window. Her timing had to be just right. She couldn’t waste any of it, or the plan wouldn’t work.

Elyse set the homemade cleaner in the cabinet underneath the kitchen sink and bagged the rag she’d used to clean every other surface of the home. In seconds, she was back in front of the hidden closet by the stairwell, unpacking everything she needed to make this as quick as possible.

Footsteps pounded up the outer staircase then across the deck.

Kicking the duffle bag into the closet, she followed after. And closed the door behind her. The swish of the double glass door weatherstripping whispered through the thin closet door. Elyse breathed through her mouth in an attempt to let her heart rate catch up to the rush of adrenaline.

She could do this. She would do it. For Ava. For Ruby. For Poppy. Getting to whoever was downstairs would have to wait for now. She would come back. When the deed was done and Samuel Thornton’s body was decomposing in the marsh, she would come back. She would let the girl out of that small, dark room and get her home to her family.

Elyse tightened her grip on the nasal sedative. She just had to time it right. Her heartbeat echoed in her ears. She mentally tracked Samuel Thornton through the living room, into the kitchen. Her skin was hot. Uncomfortably so, but she wouldn’t let it distract her. Not from this.

But then it was quiet. Three seconds. More.

He wasn’t the type to take his boots off when he came home. Which meant he’d stopped moving. No other sound penetrated through the closet door. She couldn’t surprise him if she didn’t know where he was. Elyse waited, but patience only lasted so long when determined to kill someone.

“I know you’re here.” His voice didn’t match anything she’d expected in her head and their limited interaction in front of Detective Moore. Like he’d swallowed gravel. Possibly sold his soul to the devil. “You would’ve been better off using one my cleaners instead of your own.”

Elyse backed deeper into the closet. And knocked into a metal coat hanger. The hook disengaged from the bar and hit her in the face. Automatic reaction had her trying to catch it with two full hands, and her knee rammed into the closet door.

Giving away her position.

“Did you really think I didn’t notice you’ve been watching me?” His boots reverberated through the floor. He was on the move again. Hunting for her. “I know who you are. And that you stole my photos of Ruby.”

She stilled.

“I know where you live, Elyse Portman. I know what kind of car you drive.” The volume of his voice warped, growing distant. “You’re married. You have a daughter. Ava, right? Beautiful name.”

Blood drained from Elyse’s upper body. She raised the other item she’d brought into the closet with her. More effective than a nasal sedative, but far deadlier. A backup in case Samuel Thornton turned out to be stronger than she’d estimated.

“We’ve gotten to know each other. But you know that already, don’t you?” It sounded like he’d taken to the stairs, his words an echo rather than something solid. A creak registered from the ceiling overhead. From the second living room upstairs.




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