I kept going through the pictures, stopping on an older one of Blake’s father. I could see the resemblance in the easy smile and hazel eyes. The man next to his father looked oddly familiar. He shared some of the same features as Blake’s dad, but his face was rounder. Some of the pictures had captions below, but this one didn’t. I went through the next couple of pictures greedily, and then I stopped on one that looked like a family reunion taken around the holidays.
Leaning closer, I set the cup down before I dropped it. A sharp pang sliced my breath as I got a real good look at the guy who’d been in the picture with Blake’s father.
The man had his hand clamped on the younger Blake’s shoulder and was smiling at the camera from beneath a wiry, light brown mustache. The caption below listed him as Brian Vaughn.
Thoughts warred in my head as I quickly clicked on the obituary again, skimming for surviving family members. Brian Vaughn was listed as a stepbrother of the deceased—of Blake’s dad.
My surprised laugh came out strangled, and I stood, looking around the room expectantly, although I wasn’t sure what I was looking for. Shock beat at me, struggling to keep the rising tide of anger at bay.
Blake was related to a DOD officer.
How…coincidental.
I started to pace the length of the living room, my breath coming out harsh and fast. The illogical part of my brain was trying to convince myself that it was just a coincidence, that it was another Brian Vaughn who looked like the DOD officer. But the harsh reality of being fooled…of allowing myself to be played right into the DOD’s hands beat at me.
His relation to the DOD explained how Blake knew so much about the Luxen and mutated humans. Why he’d asked so many times about who had healed me. How reckless and dangerous he’d grown in his training sessions. I didn’t even know where Blake lived.
But I knew where Vaughn lived.
I stopped myself before I reached for my car keys. There was no way I was going to Vaughn’s house. What would I do? Bust up in there? That was worse than Daemon’s typical plans.
Torn between wanting to talk to Daemon and letting the issue drop until I knew what I was dealing with, I sat back and pulled my knees to my chest. Could I have been fooled this badly? This entire time working with someone who was tied to the DOD?
Anger and fear kept alternating, gripping me for several minutes, then letting go and allowing the other emotion to take hold.
My eyes found my car keys. Vaughn hadn’t been home, and Blake claimed he’d be out of town until school picked up, visiting family with his…uncle. And this would be the perfect opportunity to see if I could find any undisputable evidence that would point to Blake working with the DOD.
“Dammit!” I exploded, jumping to my feet.
Fury became a living, breathing entity inside me, coloring everything in a reddish-white light. Some of it was directed at me, but most of it had a target. Blake had been in my house, talked to my mom, earned my trust, and kissed me. That kind of betrayal ran so deep it left a permanent mark on my soul.
Daemon was the last person I needed to go to right now. If Blake was working for the DOD, I needed to keep Daemon far away from this. At least until I knew he wouldn’t fly off and do something even dumber than what I was about to do.
Done thinking, I snatched my hoodie and tugged it on over my head. Grabbing my keys and my cell phone, I left the house.
I’d done an incredible amount of stupid things in my life. Petting the baby opossum was one of them, walking out in front of the MAC truck was another. I’d even gotten pissy once about the pirating of books and had posted this manifesto on my blog that hardly made any sense.
This, though, probably topped the list.
But as I hit the highway, hands clenching the steering wheel, I was a much different person now. I could kick major ass if need be, and I wouldn’t let Blake get away with this.
I parked my car two roads down from where Vaughn lived and stepped out into the frigid air that smelled of snow. Tugging the hood up over my head, I shoved my hands into the middle pocket and hoofed it back toward Vaughn’s house. The irony of bitching out Daemon due to his lack of plans didn’t pass me by, but now I understood that sometimes certain situations called for well-thought-out stupidity.
This was one of them.
Vaughn’s house looked empty as I approached from the rear. Luckily, the two houses closest to his were spaced out. One had a foreclosure sign, and the other was just as dark. Little flakes of snow started to fall as I crept around to the front. My breath came out in puffs, hanging in the air like clouds.
The driveway was empty.
Knowing that didn’t mean the house was completely devoid of people, I debated what to do. I didn’t come all the way here to stare at the outside of the house. I wanted in there. I wanted to find evidence linking Blake to Vaughn, and I wanted to see if there was anything on the location of Dawson and Bethany.
I went to the back of the house and tried the door. It was locked as expected, but I remembered both Daemon and Blake mentioning how easy locks were to manipulate. It should be a piece of cake.
An alarm system would be a whole different story.
Pressing against the door, I closed my eyes and pictured the lock. The rush of static crept down my arms, jumping from the tips of my fingers through the wood. The click of the lock turning sounded like a nuclear bomb going off in my head.
I took a moment to prepare myself for what could be waiting on the other side of the door. If someone were in there, I’d have to defend myself. The idea of hurting someone, possibly killing him or her, sickened me, but I knew whoever it was wouldn’t stop twice from locking me up in a cage.
Telling myself I could do this, I opened the door and slowly stepped into the kitchen. A light was on above the stove, casting the room in soft light. I shut the door behind me and drew in a deep breath. This is insane. I crept forward, grateful for the thin soles on my boots.
Timid Katy no more…I’d moved onto good old B&E.
Balling my hands up under the sleeves of my hoodie, I moved down the hallway. The dining room was empty with the exception of a rolled-up sleeping bag on the floor. Two couches were pressed against the wall in the living room. There wasn’t a TV. It reminded me of a model home where everything was fake.
It gave me the creeps.
Holding a breath, I went upstairs slowly. Nothing about this house seemed real. It had no homey smells like leftover food or perfume. It smelled vacant. At the top of the stairs, there was a bathroom that had clearly been in use. There were hair products on the sink—gel and two toothbrushes.
My stomach tightened as I left the bathroom. All the bedroom doors were open. Each of them just had a bed and a dresser. All were empty.
The last room at the end of the hall was an office of sorts. A large desk sat in the middle of the otherwise empty room. There was a monitor on the top, but no hard drive. Moving around the desk, I pulled out the center drawer. Nothing. I checked the side drawers, becoming frustrated when they were all empty. I yanked open the last one.
“Jackpot,” I whispered.
I pulled out a file folder that was thick and heavy at the bottom. Lifting the file out carefully, I laid it on the desk and flipped it opened. There were pictures, hundreds of pictures.
My hands shook as I went through them. A buzzing filled my ears as I turned over picture after picture.
One of me walking from my car to the front of school in short sleeves. There were several from outside the Smoke Hole Diner, and I could just make out Dee and me sitting in front of the window, then one of us walking out the door, my arm in a splint and Dee laughing. Several more photos showed us together, at school, on my front porch, and in her car. There was one of us hugging in front of the FOOLAND, the first day I’d met her.