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Chapter 3

Author: Goodtale
Detective Wyatt's team moved fast.

Two officers stepped into the bedroom. The lead cop pulled a spray bottle from his kit, misted a circle around the center of the floor, and flipped the light switch.

A sliver of gray light filtered through the gap in the curtains, cutting across the floorboards.

When the UV light clicked on, the bedroom plunged into a purplish darkness, casting a cold glow over everyone's faces.

The floor began to luminesce. A few scattered, irregular specks of light glowed a faint blue.

Isabel's crying cut off instantly. She was crouching by the doorway with her mouth still open, but no sound came out.

Henry's Adam's apple bobbed twice. His hands clenched tightly against his thighs, and his knuckles turned white.

Detective Wyatt turned to look at them.

The bedroom stayed dead silent for about ten seconds.

Then, Isabel spoke. Her voice was raspy but unnaturally steady. "It's cat blood."

She let go of the doorframe and stood up. Her knees seemed to buckle for a split second, but she quickly found her footing.

"We used to have an outdoor cat. Someone hurt it, and when we brought it home, it was covered in blood. Lea held it in her arms and cried for the longest time. It got all over the rug."

Henry quickly chimed in, "Yeah. The cat didn't make it. We got rid of it and threw the rug out too. This was months ago."

Detective Wyatt frowned and jerked his chin at the forensic examiner.

The examiner squatted to take a sample, sealed it in a vial, and walked over to the portable analyzer in the living room to run it.

Everyone filed out into the living room, and the bedroom lights flickered back on.

Through the crack in the front door, the hushed murmurs of the neighbors in the hallway drifted in.

As the minutes ticked by, a cold sweat broke out across my back. My fingers wouldn't stop shaking.

When the examiner finally stood up, he handed the report to Detective Wyatt. "Feline-canine reaction. It's not human."

Detective Wyatt stared at the paper for a couple of seconds, folded it, and slipped it into his pocket.

When he looked back at me, his expression hardened like frost on a window pane. "Do you have anything else to—"

Henry didn't let him finish. He lunged from the bedroom. His heavy footsteps thudded hard against the floorboards.

Before I could react, he grabbed me by the collar.

The fabric choked my throat as he shoved me back. My head hit the corner of the shoe rack, leaving my ears ringing.

"Are you happy now?"

Henry's face was inches from mine. His eyes were bloodshot, and the edge of his mouth twitched into a chilling smirk.

"My daughter is missing, and you've been messing with us all day! Ripping up floors and looking for blood! And it turns out to be her dead cat!"

He let go of me and took a half-step back. "You see that? Cat blood. It was a cat. The cat Lea loved died. Do you have any idea how long she cried over that? And now you drag it up as murder evidence!"

Behind him, Isabel was sobbing. Tears and snot smeared her face. Her shoulders shook violently as she gasped for air.

Eleanor tugged at my sleeve. Her voice was low and trembling as she said, "Devan… maybe we should… just go…"

Detective Wyatt zipped up his jacket and glanced at me. "You're coming back to the station with us. The false report…"

I didn't move because the bedroom had spoken.

It was barely a whisper, like someone mumbling in their sleep. A few fragmented words escaped into the air. "Hide-and-seek… She said she didn't want to play… but they stuffed her in anyway…"

I snapped my head around.

The bedroom door was wide open. The bright overhead light flooded the floor and the massive wardrobe against the wall.

My eyes locked onto the wardrobe.

Henry followed my gaze. The smirk vanished from his face, and every drop of color drained from his skin.

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  • Real Estate Agent Who Hears Murdered Ghosts   Chapter 8

    Eleanor called me later.Her voice was utterly ruined. When she spoke, she sounded like she had a mouth full of sand. A long pause stretched between her words.I thought she had hung up, but after a long while, her voice drifted through the receiver again. "Devan, I keep dreaming about Lea peeling oranges for me."I never ate the orange she peeled for me that day. I left it on the coffee table. When Henry broke the lease, I forgot to clean it up. She wasn't even theirs, but when she peeled that orange for me, she held her hands up so high."She finished speaking, leaving nothing but the hiss of static on the line."Eleanor," I said, "it didn't hurt when Lea passed. She didn't struggle much."A long silence followed on the other end.Finally, she offered a faint murmur of acknowledgment and hung up.The next morning, Detective Wyatt asked me to come down to the station.When I arrived, he was standing in the main lobby, talking to a man and a woman.The man was in his early 40

  • Real Estate Agent Who Hears Murdered Ghosts   Chapter 7

    Detective Wyatt stood at the far end of the hallway with his back to me. He held those two DNA reports in his hand.Someone reached out and handed him a pen. He scribbled a few words in the blank space of one of the sheets and passed it back.The next morning, he pushed open the door to the office I was sitting in and tossed a stack of photocopies onto the desk."Ten years," he said, sitting on the edge of the table. His voice was laced with the scent of cigarette smoke. "At least five kids across four states."I looked down at the photocopies. They were yellowed newspaper clippings, blurry surveillance stills, and the police report from the neighboring state three years ago.The columns for the reporters' names read "Harren Johnson" and "Irene Martin". Attached was a one-inch photo of a child with two small braids, grinning at the camera.However, right after the date of the report, there was a handwritten note. "Case withdrawn. Missing child returned home on her own.""He with

  • Real Estate Agent Who Hears Murdered Ghosts   Chapter 6

    The interrogation room light hadn't been fixed. It was the same broken bulb. The light flickered erratically.I sat in the observation room next door, watching Henry through the one-way glass. Detective Wyatt sat across from him.When Henry dragged his iron chair forward, the legs scraped against the concrete floor with a long, grating screech."The child in the wall… I'm telling you again, the wall was like that when I moved in. The building is old. It has cracks everywhere."Henry placed both hands on the table. His fingertips tapped the surface in turn. "Eleanor knows. The exterior wall of her place cracked too. A chunk of plaster fell off the neighboring unit last year."Detective Wyatt flipped open a statement and propped it up, turning the page toward Henry. "Last fall, you told Ms. Eleanor Wilson the place was damp and paid out of your own pocket to tile the living room and bedroom."The place had bare concrete floors when you moved in. You laid those tiles yourself. The w

  • Real Estate Agent Who Hears Murdered Ghosts   Chapter 5

    When the tech team pried open the third block of concrete, the forensic examiner's breath caught.The beam of the flashlight probed into the breach, scanning the narrow cavity inside the wall.Where the light stopped, a small, curled-up silhouette emerged.Her head was pressed against her knees, and her arms were wrapped tightly around herself. She lay curled against the curve of the inner wall, looking almost as though she were asleep.Everyone fell silent at once.Even the rustling murmurs from the far end of the hallway were instantly choked off.The forensic examiner crouched there, keeping the flashlight trained on the spot. His other hand fumbled through his kit for a long while before finally finding a mask.He put on his gloves slowly, and his knuckles were strained tight.Detective Wyatt stood just outside the bedroom door. His gaze cut over the examiner's shoulder to land on the edge of the breach. He pressed his lips into a hard line."Based on the initial assessmen

  • Real Estate Agent Who Hears Murdered Ghosts   Chapter 4

    I squatted in front of the wardrobe and ran my fingertip along the grout lines between the tiles.A few of the tiles were lighter in color, as if someone had scrubbed them clean."Were these tiles replaced?" I asked.Eleanor replied, "Last fall, Henry said there was dampness coming up, so he bought some tiles and laid them in the living room and bedroom himself."Detective Wyatt waved an officer over to scan them.The numbers on the LCD screen flickered for a moment before the forensic examiner shook his head. "They're from the same batch. No signs of individual replacements. The color difference is just uneven wear and fading from cleaning agents."Henry straightened up from the doorframe. He let out a short, casual laugh. "Hear that, Mr. Spence? You trashed the place all day, going on about floors and blood, all to prove some poorly wiped cleaning solution damaged the tiles? You just want to keep our security deposit!"When he turned to Eleanor, his voice suddenly became dread

  • Real Estate Agent Who Hears Murdered Ghosts   Chapter 3

    Detective Wyatt's team moved fast.Two officers stepped into the bedroom. The lead cop pulled a spray bottle from his kit, misted a circle around the center of the floor, and flipped the light switch.A sliver of gray light filtered through the gap in the curtains, cutting across the floorboards.When the UV light clicked on, the bedroom plunged into a purplish darkness, casting a cold glow over everyone's faces.The floor began to luminesce. A few scattered, irregular specks of light glowed a faint blue.Isabel's crying cut off instantly. She was crouching by the doorway with her mouth still open, but no sound came out.Henry's Adam's apple bobbed twice. His hands clenched tightly against his thighs, and his knuckles turned white.Detective Wyatt turned to look at them.The bedroom stayed dead silent for about ten seconds.Then, Isabel spoke. Her voice was raspy but unnaturally steady. "It's cat blood."She let go of the doorframe and stood up. Her knees seemed to buckle for

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