The Soul Hunter Read Free Page B

opportunity. I stepped into the tub and pulled the shower curtain closed. I felt like I could scrub forever and never get that blood off. Some redheaded woman’s blood.
    I couldn’t even stand to think about it, whose blood that might be.
    I worked up a good, thick lather, soaping myself generously and watching as the water went from pink to clear and circled into the drain. I was just starting to settle down when someone banged on the bathroom door, scaring me half out of my skin again.
    “Dylan?”
    “David? Is that you?”
    He shouted through the door. “The police are here, Dylan. They want you to get out of the shower immediately.”
    “Why?”
    “I don’t know, babe, but they don’t look to me like they’regoing to take no for an answer. Finish up and come on out, okay?”
    I rinsed off quickly and toweled off, hoping they weren’t waiting in the bedroom. I had nothing in here but my bathrobe and I wasn’t about to put that thing on.
    Steam curled through the doorway as I cracked the door and peered into my bedroom. It was uninhabited. The door was closed. I grabbed some jeans and a sweatshirt, threw them on quickly and went out to face the DPD.
    Two uniformed policemen were with David on the front porch. The front door was open, a police cruiser parked in front of my house, red and blue lights blazing. A white DPD van pulled up to the curb as I stepped into the hall.
    “Hello,” I said.
    Everyone turned to look at me.
    “Miss Foster?” one of the men said.
    “Doctor,” David said.
    “Dylan,” I said, extending my hand.
    The officer did not offer his in return. I dropped my hand back to my side, strangely hurt. I checked their name tags. Hernandez and Jones.
    “Step outside, please,” Hernandez said.
    “Can I just…?” I reached for the hall closet to grab a jacket.
    Hernandez stopped me. “Step outside, ma’am.”
    I obeyed—a rare instance of compliance on my part.
    “Can you tell me what happened, ma’am?” Jones asked.
    “Sure. I was in the bathroom getting ready for a date. A date with David.” I nodded at him. “And I heard something at the door.”
    “What time was this?” Hernandez asked.
    “I guess around ten after seven. Maybe seven fifteen? He was supposed to pick me up at seven thirty.”
    “Okay. Go on.”
    “So. I came to the door and opened it and this ax fell in.”
    “It just…fell in?” Jones said.
    I nodded. “And it was dark, because I hadn’t turned the porch light on and I couldn’t see what it was. So I picked it up and turned the light on.” I nodded at the light switch just inside the doorway.
    Everyone looked at the switch and then back at me.
    Officers Jones and Hernandez didn’t look like they were buying my story. My absolutely true story. It hadn’t dawned on me that anyone wouldn’t believe me. Why would I make something like that up?
    “Do you own an ax?” Hernandez asked me.
    “I don’t think so.”
    “But you don’t know?” He raised his eyebrows at me.
    I smiled weakly. “Apparently ax ownership is something most people document more carefully than I do.”
    Hernandez scowled. “It’s not your ax, ma’am?”
    “I’m not sure. I mean, I don’t think it’s my ax. If it is, I don’t know how it got onto the porch.”
    “What happened after that?” Jones said.
    “Well. So. Then, I realized it had something on it. I thought it might be paint. And then I looked at the blade and saw those—” I looked down at the blade, “—hairs.” I could barely say the word. “And I sort of freaked out.”
    “And then I walked up,” David said. “Right, honey?”
    He never called me honey. It sounded fake and sing-songy, like he was coaching me. We all glared at him to shut up.
    “That’s right,” I said. “I didn’t know it was him, though. I thought it might be the ax guy. So I slammed the door shut and locked it and turned off the light.”
    Hernandez walked over, stepping carefully around what I now realized was evidence