Whodunit

Chapter 12

Dmitri couldn't sit still. Pacing and palming his face seemed to be the only thing keeping him sane. Where were they? They'd been out in the woods almost thirty minutes. Anisa couldn't have gotten that far ahead of Nubia and Desi.

"Man, chill," Jordan called from the couch as he mashed buttons on the video game controller. Playing against the computer wasn't nearly as fun as playing online and cussing out strangers, but it was the only choice he had with no working WiFi. "You're making me nervous."

"You should be nervous." Dmitri threw his hands up then grabbed his forehead. "How are you not nervous?"

"Why should I be nervous?" Jordan squinted. "My sister is upstairs sleeping peacefully, and I'm chillin'. Nobody told Dumb, Dumber, and Dumbest to go out there and get lost and ate up."

Dmitri exhaled, not in the mood to argue with his best friend. The eerie silence in the tall home made his skin crawl, especially since it'd been so loud before. He silently wished Jordan would blast music on the radio. He almost missed Ximena's annoying laughter and over-the-top personality. He'd much rather deal with that then find out she was gutted and slaughtered like Tammy.

A soft giggle ripped through the air. Dmitri jumped as light steps hit the ground. Light but quick and fast. A loud crash rattled the air. Then, glass shattered.

Jordan shot straight up on the couch and narrowed his eyes towards the stairs. "Zaria?" he shouted and waited for her to make her appearance.

Dmitri glanced up the stairway and narrowed his eyes when he didn't hear steps.

Jordan grunted and marched towards the double staircase. As his foot touched the first step on the left, a breeze tickled his neck. He smacked the chilled spot. And turned to Dmitri with a scowl.

"Man, what you doing? Stop being weird."

Dmitri scowled back. "What you talking 'bout?"

"You breathing down my neck and—" Another giggle cut him off.

Their heads followed the echo of the laugh and ended up facing the back of the house.

"Did you see Zaria come back downstairs?" Jordan asked, the vibration of his voice low but ragged. He could barely hear himself over the beat of his heart.

Dmitri shook his head. "Nah."

"What the fuck, man?" Jordan started back up the stairs. "I'm going to check on, Z."

Dmitri stood in the middle of the open space. The silence from a moment ago had nothing on the exponentially eerier dead silence he stood bare in now that Jordan's presence couldn't be felt. He glanced around the room, determined to find something to keep his focus off the unnerving sense of being the only life in a room that should have been full of life. His eyes landed on the cross in the foyer. The upside cross. Why hadn't he realized just how unsettling that sight felt earlier?

He padded over in his sneakers and fixed the cross upright next to the mirror in the center. He wasn't the most religious person, but the symbol made him hope that there was some higher power out there keeping them safe and protected. As he stepped back, his reflection in the mirror hitched his breath. Bulging bags made the dark brown skin under his eyes deeper than the tan he got after too many days in the Louisiana sun. Red tinted the whites of his eyes like he had just finished a heavy smoking session to cope with a bad case of insomnia. The skin around his round nose and lips seemed to crease in areas it never creased before.

It was the first time he had really looked at himself since getting arrested months ago. During his most recent stint, he couldn't bear to look at himself in the smudged, water-stained prison mirrors. When he brushed his teeth, he would stare at the sink. On days that he cared enough to wash his face, he did so with a blind eye. He never needed a mirror to get dressed since he wore the same get-up every day and never felt the need to look good in it. Most of the time, he let his hair grow wild like an untamed bush. As he neared his release date, he let his bunkmate handle his hair and trusted his judgment. Every now and then, he'd catch a glimpse of his sullen face or unshaped afro. But he never really looked at himself. Because he knew he'd have to literally face himself and own up to his stupid mistakes.