Under Dust Painted Skies
Chapter SixBianca Saxton had been missing since Friday night. Zac had no doubts she was the woman he, Taylor and Remy saw step out of his neighbor's car. Zac was also sure he never saw her leave the Cline house either. Not that he was some kind of a creepy peeping Tom that kept tabs on all of his neighbors or anything, but as far as he could remember no unusual cars or taxi had come to pick anyone up. Zac did, however, see the Cline guy leave his house in the dead of night. There was no beautiful, sexed up woman at his side, but Cline had been carrying what looked to be a trash bag. Even to his sleep-deprived mind, he knew something about this simply wasn't right.
Instead of sleeping as Remy had instructed, Zac spent the night scouring the Internet. He checked the news site first, looking up information on Bianca Saxton. There wasn't much more information offered than what they had already given on the television. However, while looking for information on the Saxton woman, Zac remembered seeing the missing woman on the morning news.
The two stories hadn't been mentioned as being related in any way. In fact, Zac was pretty sure he'd seen the stories on two different channels, though they were both local. Curiosity in peak form, Zac set to seeking out information on her disappearance.
Myra Barton. Age thirty. Auburn hair. Green eyes. Bookkeeper. Last seen at a concert. No real leads. Disappeared on March 5th.
As odd as the disappearance seemed, nothing about it resonated with Zac. At least not at first. Then he did a Google search for the month of March and something clicked. Days often seemed to blend into one another for Zac - especially when he wasn't sleeping well. March 5th fell on a Friday. He felt like that should mean something to him. Then slowly he remembered that had been the night he'd relived Kate's death in his dreams. That in of itself wasn't anything particularly new, as it was a dream that seemed to rotate often in his subconscious. That had been, however, the first night that week he'd had that particular dream, but that wasn't the important part.
He remembered trudging downstairs, half asleep to start a fresh pot of coffee. Then it clicked. He'd also seen Cline slinking through the darkness on that night as well, carrying something that Zac hadn't quite been able to decipher.
It was no smoking gun, by any means, and Zac really wasn't sure what he was trying to prove, but he did find it odd that on two separate nights when two women were last seen out in public places, the neighbor was moving about in the dead of night, moving items to his trunk and driving off.
Zac remembered the first time he'd witnessed such an act and had thought maybe his neighbor was heading out of town for business, but that second night, Zac remembered clearly seeing the shiny glimmer of the trash bag. Most businessmen were not inclined to travel carrying a trash bag. Yes, there was definitely something off about his early morning travels.
It wasn't until he heard the click of the locks on the front door that Zac even became aware of the time. When he glanced at the clock on the bottom corner of his screen, his eyes widened. How could it already be eight in the morning?
"Shit," he muttered, shutting his laptop quickly and hurrying from the room. He ran a hand over his tired face just as Remy and Luca met him in the hallway.
Luca smiled and greeted him with a hug around the legs while Remy simply stared at him. The way she was inspecting him made him feel slightly uncomfortable. Or maybe that was just guilt? He was sure she would disapprove of him staying up all night to research information on two local missing women - especially after waking her in the dead of the night. He hoped, though, that she would write the inevitable circles around his eyes off as a lack of sleep due to bad dreams.
"Who wants pancakes?" Zac asked, smiling down at Luca to avoid Remy's inquiring eyes.
"Me! Me! Me!" Luca squealed as he scooped her up.
"You wanna help?" he offered as he headed down the hallway. He could hear Remy's footsteps behind him.
"Yes! Can we add chocolate chips?" Luca asked, jutting out her bottom lip in her irresistible pout.
"Of course! What kind of pancakes would they be without them?" Zac chuckled.
"BORING!" Luca called. Zac cringed slightly as she shouted in his ear, but he smiled in spite of himself. At the very least, Luca would keep him awake this morning.
"So, what's on the agenda today?" Zac asked once they were in the kitchen and he had set Luca to work on stirring the pancake batter.
"I was hoping you could tell me," Remy replied from her seat at the table. "You're the boss, after all."
Zac rolled his eyes. Despite their business arrangement, he had never felt like Remy's boss. He wracked his brain, though. He knew Remy hated slow days. She complained that she felt like he was just paying her to sit on her ass, which in turn made her feel like some kind of a lazy leech, sucking money out of him for doing nothing. This was a never-ending argument, and he wondered if this had anything to do with her decision to look for a more normal job with set hours. He pushed this thought away quickly. He didn't want to think about that right now.
"I should probably do a quick inventory of my paints and stuff," he sighed as he spooned pancake batter on the griddle. Luca watched with enthusiasm. It was her job to tell him when the pancakes were done, which was good since Zac's mind was otherwise occupied. He really didn't want to spend his day down in the basement, figuring out which paints he needed more of. Not only did he want to continue his research on the missing girls, he wasn't feeling particularly fond of basements after last night's dream.
"What about groceries?" Remy wondered. Her chair scraped across the wooden floor as she stood and went to the refrigerator. "I didn't buy much last week. It is time to restock?"
Rather than wait for him to reply, she began looking through the fridge. "Looks like you could use more eggs," she murmured. With the refrigerator still open, she grabbed the pen from the notepad attached to the freezer side of the unit to begin a list.
"Done!" Luca exclaimed, calling Zac's attention back to the pancakes. He scooped them off with the spatula and onto a plate and added the next batch.
Remy made up a list of things Zac needed to replenish the kitchen. Zac threw in a few things off the top of his head that he wanted or needed, but for the most part Remy made the list herself as Zac and Luca tended to their breakfast.
Once the pancakes were finished, they sat down together to eat. Luca chattered away, recounting what had happened in the latest chapter from The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe that Remy read to her the night before.
Zac listened with rapt attention even though he'd read the book many times over in his youth. He peppered Luca with questions, laughing when she grew frustrated with them. "This isn't a question house!" she exclaimed.
Zac and Remy laughed heartily at this proclamation while Luca pouted as she speared the pieces of her pancakes.
After breakfast, Remy finished her survey of the pantry and with list in hand, she toted Luca along for the trip to the grocery store. Ordinarily, Zac would have offered to keep Luca, but his mind was too preoccupied. Remy seemed to sense this and made no mention of leaving Luca behind, but she reminded him to look through his stock of paints so she could go pick those up in the afternoon.
Since he didn't want to suffer the wrath of a bored Remy, Zac immediately went down to the basement after clearing the clean dishes from the dishwasher and replacing them with this morning's dirty ones. He felt somewhat ridiculous for feeling a bit of trepidation as he made his way downstairs, but he couldn't shake the surreal horror he'd felt last night.
However, the feeling of unease lent itself to hurrying Zac along. He checked his paints and even looked through his sketchbooks and canvases to take inventory, jotting down a list as he did so, and was finished in record time. With his list in hand, he returned to the main floor of the house and found himself again seated at his desk with his laptop open in front of him.
His eyes seemed unable to focus on the screen, though, and he realized he really was in need of at least a few hours of sleep.
Instead of trudging upstairs, Zac moved to the small couch pushed against the far wall of the office. It was a fold out that his mother had bought for the house, claiming it might be nice for when he had guests over. The concept hadn't made much sense to Zac considering he already had a nice furnished guest bedroom on the second floor. Zac had figured it had been an impulse buy on his mom's part as well as an excuse to come over to check up on him. Either way, he hadn't refused the couch but he hadn't put it to much use either.
Too tired to pull out the bed, Zac collapsed onto the cushions and balled one of the throw pillows - another of his mother's purchases - under his head and let his heavy eyes fall shut.
He was outside in the darkness again. Rather than feel exhilarated by the openness and fresh air, a thrill of terror seemed to shiver down his spine. He spun on the front stoop, facing his red front door. He placed a hand on the knob to twist it open, but it wouldn't budge.
Locked, he thought, but he couldn't understand it. He moved his hand to his pockets to find his keys but he couldn't locate his keys or his pants. He looked down at himself, shocked to realize he wore only his boxers. The rest of his bare skin pimpled up with gooseflesh as the night air whipped around him. Not only did he feel figuratively naked, he was practically literally naked.
Something in his mind told him to go to Remy's house. She had the spare key. She could help him get back in. It seemed to take longer than it should have for his brain to relay this message to his limbs, but when his feet finally did move, it was with caution.
Each step away from the front door seemed to weigh on him, making it more difficult to move away. When he reached the edge of his yard, he lifted his eyes to Remy's house. He could see light filtering out from inside, but the sight did not set him at ease as he might have expected.
Something squirmed in the pit of his belly. It told him to stop, that he shouldn't go any further. Just my stupid phobia, he told himself, but then his brain kicked in, telling him that this was something different. It had nothing to do with his usual fear of open spaces, but that there was something else entirely at play.
He shivered again, but shook it off. Even if he wanted to run away, he had nowhere to go. Besides, it was just Remy's home, where she took care of Luca. He'd never been inside before, but anywhere Remy and Luca were had to be a good place. He wasn't sure how or why he knew it, but, intuitively, he did.
Despite the weights that tried to hold him in place, he pushed forward. Heavy footed, his bare feet ached against the pavement of the driveway that separated his property line from Remy's. He crossed it, forcing his feet forward with each step until he found himself struggling to move up the pathway that led to the front porch.
Though it should have felt like a victory when he made it that far, there was no pleasure to be found. Only unease seemed to permeate throughout him. He clenched his eyes shut, trying to gather strength and courage. Even if something were wrong, he couldn't turn back now - not if Remy and Luca were inside.
He forced his feet to move forward as he forced his lids open. Three steps and he was standing on the porch. Four more and he was at the front door. He lifted a heavy hand to knock, but something inside him said, "No, don't do that."
Dumbfounded by his nerves and brain, he stood there for a moment, trying to sort out how he was supposed to make himself known if he couldn't knock at the door. But that was when he heard it.
It wasn't a scream or cry like in his previous dream. It was just a small whimper, but it was enough. Despite the fear that tried to freeze him, his heart was still beating. It was not the easy, steady rhythm, but it was still a good heart - as Remy had said - and it pumped his blood, fast and sure, allowing his limps to thaw as if melting away the weights that had bound him and tried to pull him back toward his front stoop.
His brain worked too, telling him he had to be careful and quiet, but it did not try to tempt him away. His heart and his brain were coconspirators that knew he had no choice but to continue on because he had heard Luca's whimper, and there was nothing in the world that could keep him from helping that little girl.
Carefully, he lifted up on his toes to look inside through the glass that ran the length across the top of the heavy wood door. His eyes shifted around, looking for signs of what lie within, but he saw nothing but an empty foyer.
Then he heard the whimper again. Even as his brain told him to proceed with caution, he reached for the doorknob. Unlike his own, this one turned easily. Despite the heavy weight of the door, it swung inward smooth and silently.
Zac held his breath as he stepped inside, his eyes wide and aware and his ears listening for the faintest of sounds that might alert him to Luca's whereabouts as well as the danger that threatened her.
He crept down a hallway soundlessly, but the house also seemed eerily quiet now. He peered around corners and tiptoed from room to room but found nothing. His heart did not stop racing; now it only seemed to pick up in speed. Where were they? What was going on? These questions tore at him, but still he carried on.
He found her by accident. He caught his foot on a rug in the dining room and he seemed to fall forward in slow motion, but somehow he managed to move his arms, catching himself with only the smallest of thumps. However, in the quiet of the seemingly empty house, he was sure anyone listening could have heard it. But before he could stand and move from the room in case someone came to find the source of the noise, he saw her tiny pink and silver shoelace peaking out from behind a closed door he hadn't noticed before.
Could be a trick, he thought, but still he got to his feet and moved toward the door. Carefully, he twisted the knob, pulling the door open. Despite the darkness his dark eyes found Luca's pale, tearstained face. Her mouth fell open in preparation of a scream, but he covered it with his hand before the sound came.
"Shh, Lulu, it's just me," he breathed, pulling her to him when he was sure she wouldn't make a sound. Her body shook in terror and he pulled back to look at her face and to ask what was going on, where her mother was, but when she lifted her head, her eyes went somewhere over Zac's shoulder and before he could turn to see what caused them to widen, her scream tore through the silent house.
"Zac! Zac! Wake up!"
Zac's eyes popped open and he tried to sit up but was shocked to find Remy seated along the edge of the couch, leaning over him. Her face was a mask of worry.
"It was just a dream," she said, softly and soothingly, and despite his muddled thoughts he had no doubt she believed he'd been having the typical nightmare where he relived Kate's death.
He nodded his head, trying to tell her he knew that, but he couldn't find his voice due to the pounding in his chest and heavy breathes bursting from his mouth.
What the hell had that been? he wondered as his mind ran back over the strange, yet terrifying dream. Even now it made no sense. There had been nothing there that he saw. It was only a fear for Luca that had his heart hammering because he worried for her safety.
As this thought crossed his mind, his eyes swept the room looking for the little girl, and while hoping she hadn't witnessed him having a nightmare, her absence also worried him. "Where's Luca?" he asked.
"She's watching TV," Remy said, frowning as she smoothed his hair back off of his forehead. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," he said absently, but it sounded like a lie even to his own ears. "It was just a dream." He shook his head, trying to clear his brain, as Remy moved her hands away from his face. Her eyes stayed on him, though, and even though Zac was avoiding her face, he knew he wasn't fooling her.
"How long have you been back?" he wondered to take the focus off of himself.
"Not too long," Remy admitted after a moment's hesitation.
"You should have woken me," he commented. "I would have helped you put things away."
"You needed the sleep."
Zac couldn't argue with that, so he didn't. They were quiet for another moment. Zac was still trying to get his bearings.
"What's going on with you, Zac?" Remy asked.
"Nothing," he frowned. "It was just another dream."
"What about last night?" she demanded. "What was that about?"
Zac looked at her then. Her eyes were locked on him in the way she often looked at Luca when she was ready to wait her out for an answer.
It made him uncomfortable, and even though this was something he wanted to discuss with her, he worried she wouldn't take him seriously if she knew he wasn't sleeping well.
Zac licked his dry lips and cleared his dry throat. "Did you watch the news last night or this morning?" he finally asked.
Remy shook her head. "You know I hate watching it. It's too depressing," she said.
Zac smiled a little at that. That, at least, was something they could both agree on. His smile faltered, though, when he spoke again. "Last night on the news they were talking about this missing woman. I thought she looked familiar for some reason. I couldn't place it at first, but then I realized it was because she looked just like the woman the Cline guy brought home with him on Friday night," he explained. "And I remember waking up early Saturday morning," he omitted that he'd had another dream that night, "and I saw someone moving around in the dark, and then I saw the Cline guy - what's his first name anyway?"
"Ted, I think," Remy supplied when Zac paused, waiting to see if she'd answer.
Zac nodded and then went on, " Anyway, I saw Ted Cline open the trunk to the car - that was how I knew it was him, from the light inside - and he was putting a trash bag in the trunk, and then he drove off."
Remy's eyebrows shot up. "So, wait . . . you think Mr. Cline, what? Brought home a woman, killed her, and then drove off with her in a trash bag?"
Zac did not miss the sarcastic tone to her voice, but he couldn't argue with her because, yes, though he had not verbally voiced these ideas, that was exactly what he thought.
"There's another missing woman. She's been gone for ten days now, and nine days ago, in the early morning hours, I saw Ted Cline leave his house, carrying something. He put in his trunk and then drove away," Zac stated.
Remy stared at him for several seconds. It was as if she was looking for something but couldn't seem to find it. He wondered what that was exactly.
"Zac," she finally said as she stood, "you can't be serious."
"Why not?"
"Because!" she exclaimed, crossing her arms defensively over her chest. He waited for her to give a better reply than that. He wasn't a child, after all, and 'because' was not going to satisfy his mind. Remy frowned at him, and Zac simply gazed back. After a moment, she sighed, dropping her arms. Her shoulders sagged a bit as she said, "Okay, I'll admit that it's a little weird that he was out on those nights, but the idea that he's some, what, serial killer . . . that's just . . ."
"Crazy?" Zac laughed bitterly.
"I don't think you're crazy, Zac," Remy glared. "You know me better than that."
"Then explain why the missing woman that walked into Ted Cline's house never walked out?"
"You don't know that she didn't walk out," Remy replied. "It's not like you sat at your kitchen window all that night and watched his door, right?"
"Of course not," Zac bristled at the implication. "But I also didn't see anyone come or go from Cline's house until he left in the dead of night."
Remy chewed absently at her bottom lip, as if chewing over what to say to that. Zac couldn't see how she could argue, unless she didn't believe him and thought he hadn't seen what he knew he saw.
Zac sighed, running a hand through his, no doubt, messy hair. After a moment, he swung his feet to the floor and stood. "Here," he said, walking to the desk where his laptop sat, "at least look at the picture of the girl."
Remy didn't argue, but her eyebrows did shoot up when she realized Zac already had a tab open with the girl's picture in it. Zac stared back at her for a moment, unapologetic, before he tilted his head toward the screen, as if to say, "Look."
Remy sighed softly and shifted her eyes to the laptop screen. She looked for a moment before leaning down to get a better look. Her nose wrinkled in that same way Luca's often did when she was really concentrating, but when she finally looked away, she shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know, Zac," she said. "I guess maybe it could look like the same person, but I really didn't get a good look at her." Zac looked crestfallen, but before he could speak, Remy went on. "I wasn't the one studying her assets. That was your brother, remember?"
Zac frowned and moved his eyes back to the laptop screen. He was certain this was the same woman he'd seen walking up the walkway with Ted Cline and then entering his house. How was it Remy couldn't see it? Maybe she was right, though. They'd been cooking and she was slightly distracted. Maybe she hadn't got the best look.
"Maybe I should call Taylor," Zac finally sighed. The thought of speaking to his brother for the third time in less than was a week was a little odd, but he wasn't exactly bothered by the idea.
Remy's nose wrinkled again, but Zac knew this time it was because there was something she was thinking but didn't want to say aloud. He gazed at her for a moment, wondering if she would crack if he tried to stare her down, but her face smoothed and she remained quiet.
"I'm going to go check on Luca," she finally said as Zac grabbed his phone.
He nodded absently as he dialed Taylor's number and licked his lips nervously as he brought the phone to his ear. Thankfully, he'd remembered to call Taylor's cell in order to avoid any awkward conversations with Natalie, but after three rings, Taylor still hadn't picked up. One more ring and the voice mail activated.
Zac grimaced. He hated leaving messages, but he figured he might as well get it over with. "Hey, Tay. It's Zac," he said steadily. "I know this is going to sound weird, but I was wondering if you'd seen the news any this week. There was a story about a woman who disappeared . . ." he trailed off for a moment, wondering how he should phrase the rest of his suspicions. Remy hadn't taken too well to the straightforward approach, but this wasn't exactly light conversation. Remy had guessed in jest at his suspicions about what had happened to the woman. He wondered if Taylor would joke about it as well. A beat too late he realized he needed to finish his message. "Anyway, I thought she kind of looked like that woman we saw go into my neighbor's house. I think you got the best look, so . . . anyway, just give me a call when you have a chance. Bye."
He fumbled with turning off the phone and had to fight the desire to slam the palm of his hand to his forehead. He wished he could blame his agoraphobia and lack of social interaction for his ineptitude on the phone, but he'd always been a bit awkward. Hopefully Taylor would recognize that rather than thinking he was nervous about talking to him.
With Remy doubtful about his suspicions, Zac figured it would be best to go about his day as if it were a typical one - at least until he heard back from Taylor, so Zac headed into the living room, where Luca was sprawled out on the couch watching cartoons.
"Where's your mom?"
"Making lunch," Luca replied without removing her eyes from the screen. Funny how she clung to him half the time but as soon as there were cartoons, he was about as interesting as cow dung.
"Kids," he muttered under his breath as he turned and headed back to the kitchen.
"Did you talk to Taylor?" Remy asked.
"Nah, got his voice mail, but I left a message," Zac shrugged. He looked over her shoulder as she chopped something at the counter. "Need help with lunch?"
Remy looked over her shoulder and smiled at him, and for a moment, all thoughts of a possible serial killer neighbor disappeared from his mind. "Sure," she said, but the words barely registered. Any time Remy smiled that way, she looked so young and carefree.
"You should smile more," he told her.
"So should you," she countered. Then she elbowed him the stomach as she moved around him toward the refrigerator.
It was only then that Zac realized he, too, was smiling. It was such an odd realization. True smiles were usually only reserved for Luca. Everyone else got the watered down version, but it seemed Remy was capable of drawing them from him as well. He tucked this information away to ponder over later.
--
Lunch was served at the table, much to Luca's distaste. She hadn't been pleased to be torn away from Spongebob Squarepants, but she tucked into her chicken salad sandwich without too much complaint.
Afterward, Remy decided that Zac needed to work on some paintings. Zac tried to beg off, claiming his head just wasn't in the game, but Remy stood firm and shooed him downstairs to the basement to get some work done. Zac suspected she was trying to keep him busy, but he couldn't figure out why.
Regardless of his initial claims, inspiration seemed to lie somewhere beneath the surface. He remembered the scenery from his earlier dreams and the next thing he knew, the canvas bore the picture of a dark and somewhat ominous landscape that only vaguely resembled his block of residence.
It wasn't until Zac heard a knock at the door at the top of the stairs that Zac snapped out of his work related trance. He frowned up at the door, wondering why Remy would knock rather than just come downstairs if she needed him for something.
"Be up in a minute," he called. The sound of his voice so loud was somewhat unsettling. He couldn't remember the last time he raised his voice. Even when fighting with his family members, his voice barely ever rose into what anyone would consider a yell. He coughed a little at the tickle yelling caused in his throat.
He washed and dried his hands quickly and then headed upstairs. He half expected Remy to be waiting for him at the doorway, but she wasn't there. He wondered into the living room, prepared to remind her that she was the one that sent him downstairs to get some work done and it wasn't fair of her to interrupt, but his comments died in his throat when he stepped into the living room and found Isaac and Taylor seated at opposite ends of the sofa.
Luca was curled up on the loveseat with Remy perched next to her. She was frowning, and it was such a stark contrast from her earlier smile that it caused his heart to ache a little as he wondered why she looked so uncomfortable.
That will have to wait, he decided as he shifted his eyes back to his brothers. He looked at Taylor as he spoke, remembering that he still wasn't feeling too kindly toward Isaac. "Hey, what are you doing here?"
"I got your message," Taylor answered slowly. He looked at Isaac out of the corner of his eye, like he thought Isaac might say something, and Zac followed his gaze to find Isaac staring at him.
"Oh, good," Zac nodded absently. His eyes flickered back to Remy and Luca's sleeping form. "Why don't we go to my office so we don't wake up Lulu," he suggested.
Taylor shrugged and rose; Isaac followed, moving stiffly, like he could physically feel the anger Zac still held toward him just beneath his skin. Taylor moved toward the office and Isaac followed, but Zac stayed rooted in place when he realized Remy hadn't moved. "Are you coming?" he asked, his eyes on her.
Remy looked pained, like she would rather be anywhere but in the same room as Zac and his brothers, but she stood and moved toward him. Zac figured it had something to do with Isaac's presence. Remy had seemed perfectly fine when Taylor was over the other day. Zac sifted quickly through his mind, trying to remember if he had ever seen Remy and Isaac talk and he came up empty. Huh, he thought, maybe she's not a big fan of the douche bag either.
Zac immediately felt bad for thinking of his eldest brother that way, but his anger over their last exchange had not ebbed much. Zac thought it was something about Isaac's self-righteous attitude. His intentions were always meant well, but it was hard to get past the fact that Isaac thought he always knew what was best for everyone. Arguing with Taylor was so much easier because Taylor usually knew when to back down and even when they couldn't agree, he typically let it drop, opting instead to agree to disagree.
The office suddenly felt cramped up when they were all inside the medium sized room. While Zac couldn't handle large, open spaces, he wasn't exactly fond of small closed in ones either. He was a hot mess if ever there was one.
Pushing his anxieties away, Zac turned to face Taylor. He noticed that Isaac had crossed his arms over his chest - his biggest tell when he was annoyed. Good, Zac thought, no one invited him into this conversation anyway.
"So, did you see the news?"
Taylor shook his head. "But you think the missing woman is the same one we saw on Friday?"
Zac nodded, but Taylor wasn't looking at him. He had turned to Remy. "Did you think it looked like her?" he asked.
"I couldn't say," Remy replied. Her voice was soft, almost apologetic and when her eyes met Zac's, she looked away.
Weird.
"Here, I've got the news site booted up," Zac offered, shaking off the weird vibe he was getting from Remy and crossed the room to his desk.
Taylor followed and then, reluctantly, so did Isaac. Taylor looked over the photo for a couple of seconds, running a hand through his hair. "Nah, I don't think so," he said.
"What do you mean you don't think so?" Zac demanded. He hadn't realized it until that moment but he had been counting on the fact that Taylor would back him up on this. "It looks just like her. Even the clothes they described her as last wearing were the same."
"I don't know what to tell you, Zac," Taylor replied. "It just doesn't look like the same girl to me, but then . . . I wasn't really looking at her face, ya know?" He smirked a little at this while Zac could only scowl.
"This isn't funny," Zac nearly growled. "There's a missing girl out there . . . and the neighbor left the house in the dead of night, carrying something in a trash bag . . ."
Before Zac could get too far into his rant, Isaac interrupted. "Wait, you think your neighbor took this missing woman out of his house in a trash bag?"
Zac looked away. Unlike with Remy, Isaac somehow managed to make his thoughts seems absolutely ridiculous. Even with five years between them in age, Zac wondered if he would ever feel like he and Isaac were on equal footing. Had they always been this unbalanced? He didn't think so, but he couldn't be certain.
"I don't know. Maybe," Zac said, but his words sounded weak to his own ears. He was sure Isaac, at least, could hear it too. "I just know that a woman is missing. I saw her go into that house," he jabbed his thumb over his shoulder toward the direction of the house across the street, "and she hasn't been seen since."
"Don't be ridiculous," Isaac said. "You can't even be sure it's the same woman."
"I know it's her," Zac nearly growled.
"How? How can you know and be so sure when even Taylor can't be certain?" Isaac demanded.
"Ike," Taylor said, placing a hand on Isaac's arm. This seemed to calm him slightly, but Zac's blood seemed to simmer beneath the surface.
"I'm not saying you're wrong, Zac," Taylor said, "but why would a man bring a woman into his house when anyone could see and then kill her? I mean, he had to know people might see."
"Probably because he got away with it before," Zac muttered.
"What are you talking about?" Taylor questioned.
"There was another woman who disappeared about ten days ago," he explained. "I saw the neighbor out in the middle of the night putting something in his trunk that night too."
"Are you sure?"
"Of course I'm sure!" Zac exclaimed. "Don't treat me like I'm stupid, Tay."
"I'm not," Taylor said a slight defensiveness in his tone. "I just don't know how you can be absolutely sure it was the same night."
"I know because I woke up in the middle of the night after fucking dreaming about watching my wife die in my arms," Zac seethed. "I came downstairs to make some coffee. I saw the guy walking around in the dark."
Taylor seemed shocked by Zac's words and his face softened a bit with what Zac had come to recognize as pity.
Before Taylor could speak, though, Isaac said, "Zac, how can you be sure what you saw? If you just woke up from a . . . ah, nightmare . . . then you could have been confused, imagined it or something."
Out of the corner of his eye, Zac saw Remy glare over at Isaac while Taylor simply looked back and forth between both brothers.
"I know what I saw," Zac said firmly.
"You know what you think you saw," Isaac corrected. "Have you been taking your sleeping pills? You still don't look like you've been sleeping well. That can't be good. It could be making you imagine things."
"I'm not imagining things."
"You can't know that," Isaac argued. "You're not sleeping well. You're shut in here all day. It's only natural that with your . . . illness . . . that maybe it's making you a little paranoid . . ."
"Ike," Taylor said, cutting him off. His tone was curt, but his eyes were on Zac, watching Zac's fists clenched in anger at his side. Zac knew that Taylor could see how close he was to losing his cool, and Isaac's words were not helping.
"Listen, Zac," Taylor said, using the tone he'd always adopted in the studio when he was about to try to persuade everyone else to see things his way. "No one thinks there's anything wrong with you, but Isaac might have a bit of a point. You probably can't even remember the last time you had a decent night's sleep . . ."
Zac hissed slightly at this. Taylor was wrong about that. Zac could remember precisely the last time he had a decent night's sleep. It was his last night with Kate. They'd made love and then cuddled together afterward, teasing about whether or not Junior might have been conceived. Kate had murmured she loved him, and he held her close as they both drifted to sleep. When they woke the next morning, after sharing a shower, they decided to get breakfast at IHOP and then go get groceries together. Kate had wanted to spend as much time together as possible before Zac had to leave town.
Zac's heavy glare and clenched teeth had Taylor faltering. Isaac, apparently unable to keep quiet, spoke up again. "Zac, it's a stressful time right now," he said. His tone was no longer superior but sympathetic. "The anniversary is coming up in a few weeks, which is probably making the dreams more frequent . . ."
"Kate has nothing to do with this," Zac said venomously as Remy crossed the room to stand next to him. She put her hand on his shoulder, and he glanced at her. She was glaring fiercely at both of his brothers, and Zac couldn't help but feel grateful that, while she didn't exactly buy his theory, she hadn't thrown around insults about his mental faculties.
Zac took a deep breath to calm himself before he said, "Get out."
"Wait, Zac . . ." Taylor began. Zac didn't want to hear it - especially if Taylor intended to defend or agree with Isaac.
"Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. My. House," he repeated. "Now."
Isaac and Taylor both stared at him with wide eyes, as if they couldn't believe or understand what he was saying. He mentally scoffed, And they think I'm the one who's not in his right mind?
Taylor blinked, then swallowed before tugging at Isaac's arm while saying softly, "Come on."
Isaac gazed at Zac for another moment, and Zac glared back, wishing that his glare could physically burn his pompous brother. Finally Isaac looked away and followed Taylor's lead out of the house.
Remy moved to follow them, but Zac stayed rooted in place. He listened, trying to hear past the Spongebob Squarepants theme playing in the other room, so he'd know when his brothers were gone, but the anger that seemed to vibrate throughout him made him feel like he had cotton in his ears.
Only when Remy reappeared before him moments later, the corners of her lips cast down and her eyes soft and concerned, did he finally begin to thaw from his frozen stance.
"Are you okay?" she whispered, as if afraid of the answer.
"Fine," he muttered. He shook he head for a moment and then turned back to his desk and pulled out his chair. He opened a new tab and quickly keyed in "background checks."
Fuck them, he thought. Maybe his brothers didn't believe him, but he was committed to finding the truth about what happened to Bianca Saxton and Myra Barton, and he figured the best place to start was by finding out more about Ted Cline.