Total pages in book: 185
Estimated words: 180510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 903(@200wpm)___ 722(@250wpm)___ 602(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 180510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 903(@200wpm)___ 722(@250wpm)___ 602(@300wpm)
“That’s a little extreme.” I roll my eyes. If I’m honest, I’ve thought of all of that, even worse.
“Colten. Fucking. Mosley.” She shakes her head and grins.
I chuckle. “Yep. I’ve said those three words just like that so many times.”
“Is your family excited? They have to be. What about his family?”
My lips corkscrew. I haven’t told anyone besides Alicia. And I assume Colten hasn’t either, but I’m not sure. “We haven’t shared the news. And maybe you should keep it to yourself until we do. Okay?”
Alicia’s grin swells. “Aw … I feel so special.”
“That was my goal.” I give her a toothy grin.
She laughs.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Colten and I don’t converse much on the flight to Nashville. It’s not a romantic weekend getaway. We’re not visiting family. It’s not even a funeral.
“Where to first?” Colten asks when we get into our rental car.
“Just … drive,” I say, feeling a little off. The visions in my head becoming clearer.
“Okey dokey.” He drives.
I scan the area for a few miles. “Turn right up here.”
Colten gives me a quick sidelong glance then turns on his turning signal. A mile or so down that road, I whisper, “Next right.”
He turns.
We take a left and one more right outside of the city.
“Stop!”
Colten slows and pulls onto the shoulder. I don’t wait for him to completely stop before I jump out and jog toward a house on some acreage.
“Josie!” Colten chases after me.
The property has a wood fence corralling several horses in a lush pasture that leads to a barn and a sprawling house. A mansion, really.
“Jesus, Josie … you’re trespassing. And running. You’re not supposed to be running.” He grabs my arm.
I rip it from his hold and continue running in the same direction, stopping under a large oak tree.
Breathless.
A little scared.
And tingly all over.
“This is the tree. The first tree I saw,” I say between labored breaths. “The day of the shooting.”
“How do you know? How can you possibly know this?”
“I just … do.”
I see the hair flowing in the wind, all tied to the same branch. Two shades of brown and the longest locks in a nearly white blond. The barn stands where the church used to be. A tiny brick church with a steeple-covered bell.
I run my fingers along the rough bark. “This tree has been here for generations,” I whisper. “Like every body that ends up on my table … it has a story to tell.”
“What’s the story?”
I ease my head side to side. “I’m not sure, but I feel it. I’m going to know.”
Colten walks around the tree, glancing up at the branches and flickering leaves. “When will you know?”
I close my eyes, letting my fingers slide down the trunk. “Soon.”
“Josie, we need to go.”
I open my eyes, following the sound of gravel crunching beneath tires. A white extended-cab truck rolls to a stop. A bearded man in jeans and a black button-down climbs out. He reaches behind the seat and retrieves a rifle.
Colten steps in front of me, putting himself between me and the man.
“This is private property,” the man says in a gruff voice while taking slow but long strides toward us, gripping the gun with both hands across his body.
“Our apologies. We were just leav—”
I shoulder my way past Colten. “Is this the tree?”
“I said it’s private property. It’s not open to sightseeing.” His grip tightens on the gun as the distance between us fades.
“Did Winston Jeffries tie young girls’ hair to this tree?”
The man slowly peels off his sunglasses, revealing his dark squinted eyes and leathery crow’s feet.
“Josie, let’s go.” Colten’s hand cuffs my wrist.
“Who wants to know?” the man asks.
“I do,” I say.
“Why?” He stops eight feet from us.
“Peace of mind.”
He chuckles, coughing several times. A smoker’s cough, wheezing and cackling. “Why on earth would knowing such a thing give you peace of mind?”
“Because I died eight weeks ago, and before they resuscitated me, I saw this exact tree.”
He slides his sunglasses back onto his stony face. “I’ll give you ten seconds to get the hell off my property, you crazy bitch.”
“Thank you for your time. We are leaving right now.” Colten grips both of my arms and guides me toward the fence and our rental car. “I think you’ve had your gunshot wound quota met for the year or, for that matter, this lifetime. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“It’s the tree. He all but said it. Did you catch that? It’s the tree, Colten.” I knew I was right from the second I saw it. I knew how to get to the tree without knowing where it lived. I feel vindicated and completely terrified.
Colten helps me over the fence and opens the car door. He doesn’t say a word on the way to our hotel. He stops by a burger joint and orders food, but he doesn’t ask me what I want. Maybe he thinks not talking about it will make it go away. I wish that were true.