The Vanishing Girls Of Willow Creek (Willow Creek, #1)

Chapter Nineteen

Best friends are the people you can do anything and nothing with and still have the best time. - Unknown

As I walked up the steps of Jon's grand Victorian-style house, my heart raced with excitement. The conversation I had overheard between the two officers earlier that day echoed in my mind, urging me to share it with Jon.

Esmeralda greeted me warmly at the door, her kind eyes filled with familiarity and warmth. She had been a constant presence in Jon's life since he was a child, and her love for him was evident in every word she spoke.

"Ms. Harley, how nice to see you," Esmeralda said with a smile as she welcomed me inside.

"Hello, Ms. Esmeralda. Is Jon awake? I need to talk to him," I replied eagerly.

"He's been waiting for you all day. He's upstairs in his room," she informed me before bidding me farewell and returning to her duties.

I made my way up the grand staircase, each step echoing through the quiet hallways of the house.

The walls were adorned with mahogany panels, their glossy finish reflecting the soft glow of the afternoon sun streaming through the window.

I could feel the plushness of the furry crimson carpet beneath my feet.

Reaching Jon's room, I knocked softly on the door before entering.

There he was, propped against his headboard, engrossed in the book about the Black Dahlia murder that I had lent him. His eyes flickered up as I entered, a warm smile lighting up his face.

"Ahh. How's my favorite little Hufflepuff? You finally got around to reading it, I see," I teased.

"I'm good my second favourite Ravenclaw," he quipped back with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Second favourite? Whose your first?" I asked playfully, grabbing a pillow and pretending to attack him.

"Luna of course," he said with a grin before retaliating by whacking me back with a pillow of his own.

After our playful scuffle, in which Jon pleaded for forgiveness, I leaned down to give him a hug, when he whacked me with the pillow I'd just let go of, before quickly wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into a hug, dragging us both down.

Jon resumed reading while I snuggled closer to him, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my cheek.

Suddenly, Jon jumped up from the bed with an urgent expression on his face. My heart leaped into my throat as I followed his gaze intently.

"What is it?" I asked anxiously.

Jon placed the book aside and turned to me with furrowed brows. "You said you wanted to tell me something before you came over."

My mind raced as I recounted my visit to the police station earlier that day and what I had overheard about Miranda's gruesome fate – her face burned by some unknown chemical by someone filled with hatred towards her.

I nodded slowly. "While I was at the police station..." I began hesitantly.

"The police station? Why were you there?" Jon's brows furrowed in confusion.

"The Sheriff wanted to ask me some questions about Miranda," I explained. "But that's not what I wanted to tell you."

Jon gestured for me to continue, curiosity evident in his expression.

"While I was waiting to be questioned, I overheard these two cops talking," I recounted. "They said that Miranda was burned."

"Burned? How?" Jon's eyes widened in shock.