to Turtle Creek. “Where are we going?” I bark.
Ares clears his throat and says, “I got a hit on the security system, I wanted to go check out the camper and see if anything is out of place.”
“Well, what did the video show?” I focus on Ares’s profile as he grips the steering wheel.
“Nothing—there was interference. Whoever was there knew there was surveillance equipment, or they took precautions in the event there was. That’s why I wanted you to take a look around, to see if you notice anything. And I want you to talk to Mark, learn if he saw who was there.”
I nod my head and bite my lip, eager now that I have something to focus on other than Dante and Delaney. It’s not long before Ares turns into the front drive of Turtle Creek. I haven’t been here in a few days, but everything looks exactly the same.
There are a few long-term trailers parked around the pond, along with Mark’s mobile home. We creep past the front area slowly, taking the narrow drive toward the back where my mom parked. I didn’t complain—never did—when she wanted to be as far away from others as she could be. I was just happy we weren’t too far from the bathhouse.
We pass by the storage lot where local people stow their trailers and campers for the cooler months, or if they don’t have the room at home, and I spot our old motor home. The yellowish paint has faded into an off-white, but the stripes of orange and brown are still vibrant. I notice nothing out of place as we slow to a stop a few feet from the rear end of the RV. I never mastered backing the thing into these narrow spots, but Mom didn’t care.
“You good?” Ares asks when I make no move to get out of the SUV.
“Yeah, it feels like it’s been longer than a few days since I’ve been here. The RV feels empty, like it’s been out here for years.” A few weeds around the blacktop pad we parked on are rising up to the underside of the motor home. Usually they’d be matted down with my comings and goings, between trips to the grocery store and the laundromat, but the motor home hasn’t moved in at least two weeks. That only adds to the abandoned feel.
Grabbing the door handle, I purse my lips. Should I ask Dante to stay outside? It makes little sense to deny Ares entrance. He’s been in there several times already, but Dante hasn’t. There’s no real reason he needs to now. I also don’t want to issue him an order, especially after what we were just talking about. I don’t really want to talk to him at all. Not to mention, Ares has probably already told all of them or showed them the inside of the camper with his cameras.
Dante opens the rear door and exits, so I do the same. Ares comes around to our side, and we all just stare at the only home I’ve ever known. When I take a step forward, Ares grabs the back of my neck. “We go in first, but I want you to really look around. Someone has been here—we need to know who it was, and what they were doing here.”
I nod, falling back behind them as they approach the door. “Dante, anything?” Ares asks, looking over the screen door like it might be booby-trapped. Dante’s shoulders hunker down low as he closes his eyes and inhales deeply. His nose pinches up in a sneer as his head moves to the left, and then to the right.
“There’s something there, but it’s just on the edges—like I get a hint of it, but not the entire profile. I’d know it if it were someone familiar, or if I smelled it again.” Dante opens his eyes; they’re more golden than normal, and the pupils have shrunk down to a tiny pinprick. “Whoever it was tried to cover their scent, and I’m only getting one,” he adds letting his eyes fall closed again.
“Maybe it was my mom?” I ask, a hopeful note in my voice.
“I would know if it were her; she’s all over everything inside,” Dante answers, taking a few steps closer to the door.
“Wait, you’ve been inside?” I shuffle my feet. My worries about him seeing how I lived are needless now that I know.
Dante looks over at me, his eyes squinting a bit. “Yeah, we helped Ares