of need. Suddenly I’m angry, but that’s
irrational. Jonah might not have been there at the time of my father’s murder.
Maybe he was in the cabin?
“Fine, but if I catch you upstairs near my room I’ll-” my
insult is cut short by the gleam in Jonah’s eyes, and I realize that I’m not
speaking with that side of him anymore. This is the most frustrating thing I’ve
ever gone through in my life. “Look, I get it. You come out when he’s
stressed. But this seems like a split personality disorder. How can he actually see you when you’re inside of him?” It all comes out in one
breath, and I have to inhale afterwards. A confused and strange look comes over
Jonah’s face.
“What did you say?” I blink a few times, and shake my head.
“Never mind.” I can tell by the way he’s looking at me that
he has no idea that Tom is showing through the surface. I really wish I could
be inside his head right now so I could understand this better, but I guess I
ought to talk to a shrink about it. That is if I want to get some actual
answers and not just a few odd looks.
Our way back down to the house is pretty uneventful, and as
soon as May sees that the flames are gone she seems a little more relaxed. I
let her into the house first, and deem it safe when she doesn’t bark or growl.
Then I head up the stairs to my own room and grab my clothes from a duffle bag.
It’s not until I’m tearing off my shirt in the bathroom that I realize my entire
arm is on display. Each reminder of how abnormal I used to be is staring me
right in the face.
I shouldn’t be so judgmental.
My shower is not as warm as I had hoped for, but it does the
trick. I’m clean and relaxed by the time I get out. I’ve also had a lot of time
to think in there. I run over the facts in my mind. Jonah Quinton, aka Tom, has
been here for a while. If he’s the farmhand my father told me about, over the
phone, two and a half years ago, he has been here that long. If he is a prime
suspect, I’m sure that the police would have arrested him by now. But sometimes
the police are wrong.
Then again, I can be wrong a lot too. There’s just not
enough evidence that this guy did it, and I don’t see why he would kill the
only man in this town who allowed him to stay. What doesn’t make sense is why
he would want me gone, too. Unless he’s afraid that I’ll kick him out. I mull
over that thought as I blow dry my hair and tease it into some curls around my
face.
While I’m applying my makeup, I run over what the police
told me about my father’s murder. Someone broke into the home, but they’re not
sure when. That person then proceeded to tie my father up like a pig and put
him on his own bed. He, or she, had a twelve gauge shot gun. I don’t know much
about guns, but I know that a shot gun is hard to trace when it’s full of shot
and not an actual bullet.
Then they shot him in the face, leaving me with a corpse
that has to be cremated when the investigation is over. His body has not been
released to me, and that all in itself makes me want to find out who did this.
But first, I have to go hear his Will.
I pull on my shoes as I descend the stairs and almost run
into Jonah with a glass of tea in his hands. May is by his side again. She’s
abandoned me for the crazy man. That’s not very comforting at all. “I’m going
into town now, do you need anything?”
“I don’t think so. Do you want me to come with you?” I
narrow my eyes at the dark look on his face and shake my head. It’s not as if
someone’s going to shoot me in broad daylight. Someone who burns down another
person’s barn is pretty cowardly.
Without another word to one another, I slide behind the
wheel of my silver rental. I can’t help it. I glance in the rearview mirror.
Unsure of what I expected to see, my eyes return to the dirt drive in front of
me, and I push the car into third when I get out onto the pavement. It’s a
twenty minute drive into town.
I pull up to the
irrational. Jonah might not have been there at the time of my father’s murder.
Maybe he was in the cabin?
“Fine, but if I catch you upstairs near my room I’ll-” my
insult is cut short by the gleam in Jonah’s eyes, and I realize that I’m not
speaking with that side of him anymore. This is the most frustrating thing I’ve
ever gone through in my life. “Look, I get it. You come out when he’s
stressed. But this seems like a split personality disorder. How can he actually see you when you’re inside of him?” It all comes out in one
breath, and I have to inhale afterwards. A confused and strange look comes over
Jonah’s face.
“What did you say?” I blink a few times, and shake my head.
“Never mind.” I can tell by the way he’s looking at me that
he has no idea that Tom is showing through the surface. I really wish I could
be inside his head right now so I could understand this better, but I guess I
ought to talk to a shrink about it. That is if I want to get some actual
answers and not just a few odd looks.
Our way back down to the house is pretty uneventful, and as
soon as May sees that the flames are gone she seems a little more relaxed. I
let her into the house first, and deem it safe when she doesn’t bark or growl.
Then I head up the stairs to my own room and grab my clothes from a duffle bag.
It’s not until I’m tearing off my shirt in the bathroom that I realize my entire
arm is on display. Each reminder of how abnormal I used to be is staring me
right in the face.
I shouldn’t be so judgmental.
My shower is not as warm as I had hoped for, but it does the
trick. I’m clean and relaxed by the time I get out. I’ve also had a lot of time
to think in there. I run over the facts in my mind. Jonah Quinton, aka Tom, has
been here for a while. If he’s the farmhand my father told me about, over the
phone, two and a half years ago, he has been here that long. If he is a prime
suspect, I’m sure that the police would have arrested him by now. But sometimes
the police are wrong.
Then again, I can be wrong a lot too. There’s just not
enough evidence that this guy did it, and I don’t see why he would kill the
only man in this town who allowed him to stay. What doesn’t make sense is why
he would want me gone, too. Unless he’s afraid that I’ll kick him out. I mull
over that thought as I blow dry my hair and tease it into some curls around my
face.
While I’m applying my makeup, I run over what the police
told me about my father’s murder. Someone broke into the home, but they’re not
sure when. That person then proceeded to tie my father up like a pig and put
him on his own bed. He, or she, had a twelve gauge shot gun. I don’t know much
about guns, but I know that a shot gun is hard to trace when it’s full of shot
and not an actual bullet.
Then they shot him in the face, leaving me with a corpse
that has to be cremated when the investigation is over. His body has not been
released to me, and that all in itself makes me want to find out who did this.
But first, I have to go hear his Will.
I pull on my shoes as I descend the stairs and almost run
into Jonah with a glass of tea in his hands. May is by his side again. She’s
abandoned me for the crazy man. That’s not very comforting at all. “I’m going
into town now, do you need anything?”
“I don’t think so. Do you want me to come with you?” I
narrow my eyes at the dark look on his face and shake my head. It’s not as if
someone’s going to shoot me in broad daylight. Someone who burns down another
person’s barn is pretty cowardly.
Without another word to one another, I slide behind the
wheel of my silver rental. I can’t help it. I glance in the rearview mirror.
Unsure of what I expected to see, my eyes return to the dirt drive in front of
me, and I push the car into third when I get out onto the pavement. It’s a
twenty minute drive into town.
I pull up to the
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