Before I Go: A dark and tense psychological crime thriller. by Marie Reyes (reading strategies book txt) 📕

will check it out. Just me.” If this was going to happen, he might as well implement some damage control.

“I’m going with you,” she stated emphatically.

“One person would be less noticeable.” That wasn’t the reason he insisted on going alone, and he could tell she knew it too.

“Then I will go alone.” She opened the door and swung it open.

“Like hell you are.” He grabbed her shoulder.

“She’s MY sister.”

“It’s not like she’s going to be here. She’s long gone.” He shut up as soon as he saw her jaw clench.

“Oh so tell me, big strong man, if I weren’t a woman, would you have a problem with me going?”

“What are you even talking about? I don’t want Alex going either.”

“Woah. Cool it,” Alex shouted, as if addressing two children arguing over a toy. Michael half expected to be put in time-out. “I stay with the car. Just do it quickly. Have a look. Come straight back. I’ll be waiting.”

“Fine.” Michael conceded. “But there’s something I have to do first.

Chapter Twenty Seven

Alex watched Michael with curiosity as he loaded up the camera on his phone and pressed the record button.

“Hello. My Name is Michael Ashton, and I am here with Josie Quinn. If anything happens to us, we want the truth to be known. Josie’s sister—Tanya, was kidnapped in the Quinta Roo region of Mexico a year ago.” His dry throat felt like it was closing up, trying to stop him from continuing, but he coughed and carried on. “She was never found. I’ve been helping her sister try to find out what happened and here is what we know so far. We know the kidnapper was named Ismael Garcia, and that he was paid by Samuel Valentino Hernandez to do so. Why, this remains unclear, but we know it has something to do with someone nicknamed El Verdugo.” It just occurred to Michael he was speaking like a TV news-anchor, but somehow it seemed more fitting. “Samuel Hernandez attempted to kill us, but we got away with the help of Miguel Cuevas, whose wife was brutally murdered by Samuel. Miguel was with us when she was killed.” Michael didn’t know what else to say and looked towards Josie. “Do you want to leave a message for your family? Just in case?” He passed her the phone to hold, and she held it in front of her, pausing for a few seconds. Her eyes became glassy, as if it just hit her that she may never see them again.

“Hi mom. Dad. I know you said you didn’t want me to do this, and I’m so sorry if I don’t come back. I never meant to make this harder on you.” Her voice cracked, and she breathed in deeply before beginning her next sentence. “I hope you understand why I did what I did, and I’m still glad I did it. I am so close now to knowing what happened. I can’t give up now. I’m just imagining me home, maybe Tanya is even there. It’s Thanksgiving, and mom, you always insist on buying the biggest turkey you can find, even though we never get through all the leftovers. And dad, you always pass out with a glass of wine in your hand before midnight. It was always one of the few times in the year that Tanya would actually be at home, mainly because no-where else would be open.” She laughed for a second, then stopped herself, and passed the phone back to Michael without saying another word, and got out of the car. He saved the recording and messaged it to Alex.

“You know what to do. If anything does happen, don’t hesitate; get the hell out of here. Wish me luck.” They shared a heavy, half smile.

“You’re not going to need it,” Alex said with confidence.

Alex’s words bounced around Michael’s head as he went to follow Josie. ‘You’re not going to need it.’ Why the hell would he say that? Oh well. Fate had been tempted now, and there was no turning back.

The air was still enough that they could hear the rustling of grass underfoot as they made their way towards where Samuel had gone. Once over the first hump they tried to stick to dips in the bumpy landscape to avoid being seen. A row of trees provided them cover as they walked alongside the drive. It must have been a good half a mile before they could make out the house in the distance—a tall three story, reflecting the light with its pristine white walls, sparkling green pool, and glass doors. Modern—a miniature version of something you might see in the Hollywood hills, only instead of sprawling across the land, it towered up into the sky—a white beacon in this distance. The base of the house nestled in carefully manicured foliage and spindly palm trunks almost as tall as the building itself. As they got closer, they could make out two figures on the terrace.

Michael considered one last word of caution, but thought it best to remain silent.

As they waited in the shade of the palms, Michael pulled pieces of lint away from his pocket. It was a strangely calming activity, but he moved onto tearing the business card in his pocket into fours. Keeping his hands busy took his mind away from what was happening. Self-soothing.

“Give me that.” She took the pieces of torn card from his hand. “You know, tearing things up is a sign of sexual frustration.”

He couldn’t believe she was making jokes right now, but mustered a half-smile.

Josie laid the pieces onto the grass, placing them together like a jigsaw puzzle. “No way.” She got onto her knees and inspected the card closer.

“What?” He whispered. They were far enough away that he probably didn’t have to keep his voice down, but he wasn’t taking any chances.

“Didn’t Miguel say his business partner that Samuel hired to kidnap my sister was called Ismael?”

“Yeah, Ismael Garcia. Garcia like the ice cream.” He would