Shattered

Chapter 20 Mark

"It's no big surprise that I will wait for you, I will wait for no one but you." Dave Matthews Band

Phil: 911 @ EMMA's

Mark read the words in the text message over and over as he sat in his air conditioned Jeep waiting for Bradley to come outside. He had 11 text messages between Phil and Tommy. By the time he texted back, neither of them had answered. He was supposed to be heading to the cabin for a romantic weekend with Bradley and now his friends were desperate to see him. Something bad happened. Mark could feel it.

"Come on Bradley," he breathed tapping on the steering wheel. She had asked for five minutes to get Sean settled for bed. Seven minutes had gone by. In those seven minutes, they would almost be at Emma's. She walked out the front door a minute later, her gray leather Kate Spade bag across her body, a light pink cardigan in her hand, a huge smile spread across her face. Mark was about to ruin her excitement with bad news, the kind of news he didn't have details of, just yet. He reached over and opened the door for her.

"Thank you," she beamed as she slid in the car, catching his lips for a brief kiss. "Our adventure is about to begin." Her excitement should have made Mark's heart flutter, instead, his heart sank.

"What's wrong," she asked when he turned left on the main road outside of her neighborhood. It was the direction opposite from I-440.

"Something happened," his body tensed. "We have to go to Emma's."

"What is it?" there was concern in her voice.

"I'm not sure yet," he admitted.

"Mark?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm scared."

Mark brushed Bradley's hair back behind her ear and grazed his hand across her neck and shoulder before taking her hand in his. "It's going to be okay," he promised without any belief. He punched the accelerator.

A few minutes later they pulled on the street next to her driveway in front of Phil's red, four-door Jeep Wrangler. Mark was shocked to see Phil's car at Emma's. His car was so glaringly obvious that he hadn't driven at night much the last few months. It was much harder to hide in a red car. Emma's house sat on a corner lot, extremely exposed. The front yard, backyard, and side of the house were all highly visible from the street. Tommy's Mustang was in the driveway next to Emma's red Wrangler. Her Jeep was a much older model than Phil's and had two-doors instead of four. There was an unrecognizable Black Ford Explorer parked behind Tommy's car. Mark walked around to the passenger side and opened Bradley's door. She slung her arms around his neck immediately, shaking.

He quickly kissed her deep and hard. "We're still leaving," he promised. "In a few hours we'll be at the cabin. We can sleep in, go out for breakfast, go swimming and put all this stuff behind us for a few days."

Mark lifted her out of the car and grabbed her sweater off the seat. He wrapped his arm around her waist while they walked across the grass towards the back door. Tommy opened the sliding glass door the minute they stepped onto the brick patio.

"Don't freak out, but Detective Jones is here," warned Tommy.

Mark felt Bradley gasp. "It's okay," he whispered looking at Tommy for some sort of clue.

"Griswold and Pinky were murdered."

Griswold, Brody's elderly German Wirehaired Pointer, spent most of his days lazing on the dock. He never barked, he came inside only to eat and sleep at night, unless it was raining. Mark's body fueled with rage.

"How's Emma?" Bradley asked. "She loved that stupid cat."

"I think Brody's taking it worse than Emma. He actually found Griswold hanging from the tree. Emma wasn't home when her parents found Pinky, hung. It's pretty sick and cruel."