Addison pushed the attic door open and stepped inside the room, the slats of old wood creaking beneath her feet as she crossed to the window and glanced outside. In the daylight, the view was much different. Looking down, it was easy to see just how far of a fall it was. How terrified the girls must have been.
Not wanting to catch her finger on another fragment of frayed wood, she kept her arms folded in front of her. Looking at the window frame, she noticed something. The wood slat lining the window was only splintered in one place, the area around the rusty nail. She bent down. Not only was the wood splintered, a chunk the size of a nickel was missing, and what she’d previously assumed was rust on the head of the nail now didn’t look like rust at all. It was brown and dark, almost like a stain. The nail’s head was sharp and gnarly, the metal looking like it would leave a lasting impression upon contact. A lasting impression. Possibly even a scar.
Addison took out her cell phone and dialed.
“I’ve been meaning to call you all day,” Lia said. “About Milton, I’m sorry. I tried. I really did.”
“I know, and it’s okay. Listen, I have a question.”
“Shoot.”
“If a person cut themselves forty years ago on a nail, what would the blood on that nail look like today?”
“I’d have to see it to be sure, but it would be brown in color and have the appearance of dirt or rust.”
“Could it be tested for DNA?”
“If the blood has decayed, then no, it can’t. To test blood from the seventies, it would depend on how well it was preserved, protected from the elements. Addison, what have you found?”
“Possible blood on a nail in the Clarks’ attic—a nail on the window the girls fell from.”
“Then it’s probably their blood. I can come over, see if I’m able to extract any usable DNA. I’ve always hoped one day I could reprocess the attic.”
“I think I know who did it. I think I know who’s responsible for killing Vivian and Grace.”
The attic door creaked open. Addison turned around. A man walked in. A man she hadn’t seen before. He was bald and muscular, like a heavyweight boxer. In his right hand, he held a pistol.
“Put the phone down.”
Addison lowered her arm, but kept the phone in her hand.
“Don’t be stupid,” he said. “End the call.”
She didn’t move.
For the second time in this room, a gun was pointed her direction. Through clenched teeth, the man said, “End. The. Call.”
Voice trembling, Addison replied, “Why? You’re going to kill me anyway, aren’t you? Isn’t that why you’re here?”
The sound of his thick, black boots boomed across the room. He snatched her phone and dropped it on the floor, smashing it beneath his foot.
“You Addison?”
“Yes,” she squeaked. “Where’s Rose? Where’s Luke?”
“Don’t worry about them.”
“How did you know where to find me?”
“Been tailing you all day.”
“Who are you?” she asked.
“Don’t matter.”
“Why are you here?”
“Why you think?”
“To clean up.”
“Clean up. Yeah, somethin’ like that.”
“Why send you? Why not do it himself?”
He roared with laughter. “Squeamish, I guess. Don’t wanna get his hands dirty.”
“People hire you to kill other people?”
“I’m hired for a lot of things. Like you said, when there’s a mess, I clean it up.”
“And how many messes have you cleaned up for him?”
“A few. This is the first time he’s asked me to kill for him, though. I usually just intimidate, break a few bones.”
“Do you even know why he hired you? Do you care?”
“Look, lady. What’s done is done. Turn around.”
“What?”
“Turn your freakin’ head around and face the wall, or I’ll shoot you in the face.”
Vivian and Grace appeared, one on each side of Addison. Their mouths opened, and in unison, a chilling scream was emitted into the air. The windowpane shattered, then burst shooting fragments of glass throughout the room. Addison dropped to her knees. The floorboards beneath the man’s feet came unhinged, and he lost his footing. The pistol slipped from his hands, skidding across the floor. They both scrambled for it, Addison almost grabbing hold before the man snatched it up again. He whirled the pistol toward her and fired.